A Thousand Li- the First Step

by Tao Wong

  This morning saw Wu Ying seated on his bed, expanding his awareness as he cultivated. The awareness portion of the exercise was actually somewhat easier than he had expected. Between the lessons that Tou He had imparted on the Two Minds process and his practice while moving, Wu Ying found that he had inadvertently learned how to split his consciousness sufficiently that he could feel and sense his chi as he cultivated. As he cultivated, Wu Ying finally began to understand what the manual had actually discussed about the chi field and dispersal.

  To Wu Ying, it was like a canal system fielding a series of fields. His meridians were the canals leading from the river—his dantian—while the chi was the water. Right now, his canals were made of packed earth. A simple and functional method of directing chi to the fields. But because they were made of packed earth, some water escaped, soaking into the earth around the canals.

  This “soaked earth” could then be noticed and sensed by other cultivators who had the requisite skills. The cultivation exercise basically taught Wu Ying how to strengthen his canals to reduce the amount of chi that soaked out. Of course at this point, the entire metaphor broke down.

  Because the exercise focused more on strengthening the aura around his body—not strengthening his meridians—while restricting his aura to his skin itself. By doing so, he kept more of his chi within his body, rather than radiating it out like most others. This ensured that others could not sense his cultivation when it ran—or even during normal times. It had the additional advantage of decreasing the speed with which he lost the chi his body stored. While the amount of improvement was minimal, Wu Ying had to admit that the amount of chi he needed to progress was tiny—at least in comparison to old monsters like the Elders. So any gain was important.

  Perhaps the greatest frustration for Wu Ying was that while he could slowly develop the strength of his aura while cultivating at a standstill, it was a completely different matter when he did so while moving. Added to his frustration was now, Wu Ying could sense the way his chi continuously leaked from his body. He felt as though he were waving a beacon each time he cultivated while moving. Thankfully, the ability to sense such changes was something only the most astute Seniors and the Elders had on a conscious level. Otherwise, Wu Ying would have died from embarrassment.

  The toll of the bell indicating the start of breakfast time interrupted Wu Ying’s slow, meandering thoughts. The cultivator slowly exhaled and stopped cultivating, consciously releasing the lock he had placed on his aura. He held still for a few seconds as he watched his body unconsciously take up the slack of holding his aura tight. Satisfied that his efforts were holding—at least for now—Wu Ying stood and stretched, allowing blood to flow back into his peripheries, before departing his room for breakfast.

  The rest of the morning exercises were routine, almost boringly so. By now, the entire group could lap the mountain in half the time it had taken them to do so the first day. Chi Sing, the sadist that he was, had just doubled their running. All of their exercises had increased significantly to balance out the group’s increasing competence.

  Halfway through the time that would normally be allotted to studying forms, Chi Sing called a halt to the activity. When he had everyone’s attention, the cultivator spoke.

  “Good. Now that you all have the basics down—and have been religiously practicing the forms I’ve taught you—you are ready for the next, most important, portion. The sect has no use for those who cannot fight. To preserve our morality, we must have the strength to do so. As such, from this day onward, you will spar with your sect-mates. At the end of this coming winter, you will take part in a martial tournament which will determine your ranking in the sect,” Chi Sing said. “Now. Pair up.”

  Tou He and Wu Ying blinked then grinned at each other awkwardly as they automatically sought each other out. Standing a short distance from Tou He, Wu Ying could not help but wonder how good his friend was. As a monk who had studied martial arts since he was young, he certainly had had more time to devote to the development of his ability.

  “Good. Found someone you’re comfortable with, have you?” Chi Sing’s grin widened. “Now look to your left. Switch with them.” As everyone looked around, slightly confused by the change, Chi Sing added, “The last pair to find a new partner will be the first to demonstrate their grasp of the martial arts.”

  His words jolted everyone into movement. No one wanted to be the pair forced to showcase their abilities. After all, it was a duel. Someone was going to lose—and thus lose face in front of everyone. Wu Ying found himself paired up with Yin Xue.

  “I heard you visited the library. Hoping to stay in the sect?” Yin Xue sneered.

  Wu Ying grunted and turned away from Yin Xue, his attention drawn to the poor couple who had been instructed to move toward the first landing to showcase their fight.

  Once they were ready, Chi Shing raised his voice. “All right, even though you are dueling, we do not need any deaths. So no fatal strikes. Fight at seventy percent of your strength. Do not speed up just to land an attack. You are dueling to gain experience—cheating now will not allow you to learn anything properly. And most importantly, if I or your opponent calls stop, you stop immediately. Any blow landed after a stop is called is liable to be punished. Understood?”

  “Yes, Senior,” the group answered.

  “I said, understood?”

  “Yes, Senior!” the group roared.

  “Good. Ready yourself.”

  The two opponents faced off against each other, falling into stances. The larger of the opponents, standing just over six feet tall and well built, took an orthodox position with one hand in front and the other behind, resting his weight on both feet. His opponent, a young lady whose head only reached her opponent’s chest, took a different stance, dropping lower with one foot extended before her and a palm upward as she waited.

  “Begin!”

  The man rushed the girl, a looping overhand punch coming in to crush her light defense. Rather than take the attack straight-on, the girl dropped her extended foot and shifted forward blindingly fast, her hand folding as she struck with her elbow as she entered the man’s guard. A loud “oof” resounded through the courtyard as the pair met, the air within his chest driven out.

  The girl twisted in that low position, using another elbow strike as she spun around. The attack sent the man spinning, a motion that the girl exploited to strike him again and again with short, sharp attacks. But it was not all going her way. The man shrugged off the blows and pushed back against her, shoving her aside and sending her spinning away with sheer force.

  Resetting themselves into stances, the pair dashed forward again and exchanged another series of blows. Wu Ying watched, his eyes narrowed as he gauged their ability. The large man had little technique, his style a mixture of what the sect and the kingdom had taught and something very similar to both—all of which focused on large, powerful attacks. While he did not connect often, when he did, his greater strength blew past the girl’s defenses.

  On the other hand, the girl had an interesting and unique short-range style that required her to get within her opponent’s reach. It featured a low stance, sharp blocks, and power generated from the twists and turns that she used to evade and close in.

  The battle raged on the platform, the pair working to exploit each other’s weakness. In time though, a punishing blow caught the girl on the top of her head, sending her sprawling. Before she could recover, a kick came, taking her in the stomach and sending her sliding along the ground.

  “Hold!” Chi Sing said as the man rushed forward. “Rest, then begin again. Here or below, I do not care.” When he confirmed the pair had understood him, Chi Sing turned and glared at the gathered group below. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  Everyone turned to their opponent. Before Wu Ying had fully turned, a punch caught him on his cheek, sending him sprawling backward. Before he could recover, strikes came one after the other, forcing Wu Ying to cover up and ride ou
t the flurry of attacks. He groaned slightly as a punch caught him on his cheek, another his exposed lower ribs, then a solid punch to his stomach. As he fell backward, a kick sent him to the ground.

  “Useless.”

  “You cheating hún dàn[16]…” Wu Ying snarled as he scrambled to his feet, his body throbbing.

  Yin Xue had stepped back, smirking at his opponent. “Cheating? Senior said start. But come. See if you can land a blow against me. Peasant.”

  Wu Ying gritted his teeth and strode forward, falling into his newly learned Northern Shen stance outside of Yin Xue’s reach. Drawing a deep breath, he calmed his emotions as he had learned to do and considered what he knew of Yin Xue’s style.

  Fast.

  A quick slap-and-retreat allowed Wu Ying to deal with Yin Xue’s sudden attack. The follow-ups were dealt with in similar manner, though Wu Ying circled so as not to run into others. Wu Ying quickly found himself pressured, Yin Xue’s strikes coming from multiple directions, switching forms within seconds. Unfortunately, not knowing Yin Xue’s forms, he knew not the names or the rhythm that he fought in. Forced to rely on his intuition, Wu Ying stepped forward, letting a straight punch skim across his shoulder.

  Wind steps got Wu Ying in. A low crescent kick, focused on his raised knee, looped around Yin Xue’s front leg and kicked it on the back. Balance disrupted. Then Turtle takes the Leaf to grab the exposed neck with a striking hand. After that, finish by turni—

  Before Wu Ying could complete his attack, his hand was stripped from Yin Xue’s neck. A second falling palm struck his nose, forcing Wu Ying back and making his eyes tear up. Before he could recover, multiple attacks fell on him, pushing Wu Ying backward. Again, Wu Ying found himself defending, attempting to dodge and position himself. But this time around, the strikes were harder, stronger. If not for his new Body Cleansing Level of six, he would have been seriously injured.

  “Enough!”

  Suddenly, the onslaught stopped.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  Wu Ying looked up, blinking around an eye that had turned red from dripping blood. He spat blood, lips cut open as Chi Sing held Yin Xue in a casual arm lock.

  “That peasant dared touch me!”

  “And so you broke my rules by speeding up,” Chi Sing said, disdain in his tone. “You there. Change with this idiot. And you, pass me your sect stamp.”

  “Why?”

  Chi Sing casually slapped Yin Xue’s face at his question. When Yin Xue stared at Chi Sing, he received another slap, making his face grow redder.

  “Hurry up.”

  “Here!” Yin Xue offered his stamp from within his robes, anger making his entire face and neck flush red.

  His disrespectful tone earned him another casual slap. As Yin Xue finally learned his lesson and ducked his head, he glared daggers at Chi Sing from under his brows. Finding Chi Sing entirely ignoring him, Yin Xue turned his ire on Wu Ying, who was openly smiling.

  “I am removing twenty of your contribution points. Any objections? No. Good,” Chi Sing said, tossing back the sect stamp. Chi Sing looked around at the group staring at Yin Xue’s punishment. “Go ahead. Please. Break my rules. I do require more contribution points.”

  With a rustle, all the watchers turned back to their opponents to continue sparring. Those who had begun to speed up slowed down, some doing so even further than the recommended amount as fear of losing their precious points pervaded the courtyard. Chi Sing smirked before he turned to look at Wu Ying, who still sat on the ground, with disdain.

  Wu Ying scrambled to his feet and bowed. “Senior!”

  “Useless. Learn to guard better.” Chi Sing turned away, leaving Wu Ying to face his new opponent.

  The tubby cultivator who stared at Wu Ying offered him a half-smile, though a little malicious light glinted in his eyes.

  Of course the nobles were going to blame him. Forcing himself not to sigh, Wu Ying readied himself for another round.

  “Well, that could have gone worse,” Tou He said as he found Wu Ying lying on the ground after class had finally ended.

  Thankfully, Chi Sing wasn’t a complete sadist and had allowed everyone to actually sit during this morning’s cultivation. If not, Wu Ying would never have managed to make it through the day. As expected, his next five opponents had taken the opportunity to lay into Wu Ying for his presumptuous behavior of getting beat upon in front of Chi Sing. The only reason he was not further bruised was due to the nobles taking care to only hit him at full strength when they were sure Chi Sing could not see.

  “Really?” Wu Ying said as he took the offered hand and stood stiffly. Thankfully, cultivating had the side effect of refreshing his body, reducing the injuries that had accumulated over the last couple of hours.

  “You could have lost all your duels,” Tou He said with a chuckle.

  “You are not as funny as you think,” Wu Ying said as he limped toward the dining hall. “How did you do?”

  “Adequately.”

  “Senior monk, will we see you later for training?” another cultivator said, looking at Tou He imploringly.

  “Yes, of course. I promised.”

  At his words, the cultivator bowed low and hurried off to join his friends.

  “Just adequately, eh?” Wu Ying said.

  “You could join us,” Tou He offered.

  “I need to work on the style I purchased.” Wu Ying rubbed his ribs. “I’ve got a long way to go before it’s useable in sparring practice.”

  “Yet you used it,” Tou He said.

  “I learn faster that way,” Wu Ying said. Balancing the use of what he knew, what he was trying to apply, and not getting hit had taxed Wu Ying’s mental processes to the maximum. Which obviously meant that he was slower than ever to react to attacks. “At least when I kick their ass in the tournament, they’ll be surprised.”

  “Good,” Tou He said, clapping his friend on the shoulder and eliciting a wince. “Perseverance is important for a cultivator.”

  “As is a high pain threshold,” Wu Ying added.

  That evening, Wu Ying stood in a small clearing halfway down the hill. It was one of many small parks that dotted the mountain, but this one was rarely used due to its location. Between the distance from the residences and the lack of sect-provided lighting, few outer sect members felt the need to visit. For Wu Ying though, the privacy was a boon. It allowed him to practice the Northern Shen martial style without interruption and, as importantly, without embarrassment.

  “Four inches.” Wu Ying groaned out loud as he dropped lower. The damn stance with the leg outstretched hurt. That he was meant to be able to lower his body all the way to the ground with one leg extended and the other tucked beneath him before shifting smoothly and twisting was ridiculous.

  The footwork in the Northern Shen Kicking Style was both esoteric and angular, requiring him to shift his body with each step to evade attacks. Unlike some styles, the focus was more on evasion than blocking attacks, allowing the fighter to close the distance on evaded strikes before countering. It also meant that, among other things, it required a greater degree of flexibility than any other style that Wu Ying had ever practiced.

  “Then… Swallow Greets the Crane.” Transfer weight and kick. As much as Wu Ying would prefer to complete this portion slowly, he had neither the strength, flexibility, nor balance to do so. Yet. The front kick flashed upward before he pivoted and dropped his foot to the side, landing to the side and shifting his body again.

  Hours of practice. Each step followed by a movement. Sometimes a block, sometimes a punch. A warding gesture, a gentle plucking motion. Kicks. So many kicks. And interspersed, the locks, throws, and upsets that made up the core of the style.

  In truth, Wu Ying knew, at a certain point, his lone study would have to end. Grips, locks, and throws just couldn’t be practiced well without a partner. The question was, who could he work with? Thinking back to his humiliating defeats, Wu Ying knew that he would need to keep at least a p
ortion of his form hidden if he were to have any chance in the upcoming exams.

  Deep in thought, Wu Ying spun and turned, the guttering flame of the lanterns he had brought slowly darkening as the night faded.

  Chapter 10

  A week later, Wu Ying found himself standing before Elder Huang once again, his work done for the day. Wu Ying offered the Elder a tentative smile while he gestured to the sect stamp in his hand.

  “Rubbish! You think I’ll spend my time filling your contribution points for you every day? What do you think I am? So free to do this kind of work?” Elder Huang scoffed. “Go see the administrative office and do it yourself, you lazy trash. And run another delivery for me for wasting my time.”

  Wu Ying bowed low even as he took Elder Huang’s chiding in good grace. The Elder was not incorrect—he should have known better than to bother the Elder with such a trivial thing. No one in power wanted to be questioned over minor things. Turning around, Wu Ying took off down the mountain, a portion of him daydreaming about the kinds of things he might purchase with his new contribution points.

  Hours later, Wu Ying found himself outside a large administrative building that was but a stone’s throw from the library itself. While Wu Ying had seen it before on his—only—visit to the library, he had not paid much attention to it. Now, washed and clean, Wu Ying found himself dreading his visit to the administrative building as he recalled Liu Tsong’s earlier vague comments. Thus far, most of his interactions with others had been less than stellar.

  Built on a slope on the hill, the building required one to ascend a series of stone steps to reach the door. The building itself showcased the wealth of the sect, with its intricately decorated columns and carved edging along the sloped, tiled roof. Even the pair of large, double-doored entrances were carefully decorated with mother-of-pearl inlays highlighting memorable acts by the sect’s founder. Within, a series of long counters faced the entrance, where severe-looking attendants worked. Small, discreet plaques indicated the locations that outer, inner, and core members were to line up. Not surprisingly, the line for outer sect members was the longest, with the fewest attendants waiting on them. Seeing the line continue to grow as he looked around, Wu Ying hurried to get into line and wait his turn.