A Thousand Li- the First Step

by Tao Wong

  “For free. Of course a cheap, unscrupulous merchant like you who cannot even afford guards would suggest that,” Yi Ru said with a sniff. “Cultivator Long, I would be honored if you will allow me to hire you.”

  “Hire?” Wu Ying said, tilting his head curiously. Not that he would take them up on it. He still needed to make it to the city in time.

  “Yes. How about five taels for the journey?” Yi Ru said.

  “Five! You call me cheap and offer my benefactor only five tael. I never mentioned money because such a hero would not lower himself to such a thing. But, benefactor, I once came across this pill. Perhaps it could be of use for you,” Xi Rang said, pulling forth a small pill bottle. He pushed it toward Wu Ying, who automatically took hold of it but stopped himself from opening it.

  Wu Ying left the pill bottle on the table. “This… thank you for your offers. And your kind thoughts. But I fear, I cannot take either request on board. I need to arrive before the twenty-third of this month at Hinma city.”

  “The twenty-third?” Yi Ru said slowly as he leaned back, a frown tightening on his face. He looked at Wu Ying then sighed, standing. “Well, enjoy the wine. It is a pity. It would have made the trip safer with a cultivator of your ability, but I will not be traveling to Hinma till later.”

  “Of course. Thank you for the wine,” Wu Ying said with a bow. The action also allowed him to hide the slight quirk of his lips as the merchant abandoned the conversation. Yi Ru was obviously not one to pursue losing conversations.

  “Har. Yi Ru is always like that,” Xi Rang said as he watched the man walk away. He smirked, shaking his head before he turned back to Wu Ying. “Keep the pill. You saved my life and my servants. It is the least that I can offer.”

  Wu Ying paused, then nodded and kept the bottle. Rather than insult the man and open it now, he stored it away to check on the contents later. “Thank you then. It seems you and Yi Ru are well acquainted.”

  “We work the same circuits,” Xi Rang said. “Though lately it has grown significantly more dangerous. My wife kept pestering me to hire more guards, but I never got around to it. Remember, always listen to your wife!” Wu Ying offered the older man a strained smile while Xi Rang continued. “As for the ones we hired, they all left, the damn rat bastards, when the rumors started that Ji Ang and his people had stopped raiding the river.”

  “They did?” Wu Ying said. That was not what he had heard.

  “Ever since the merchants started running convoys, the pickings have been slim. Of course it was only a rumor till now,” Xi Rang said. “Now all of us on the road will either have to risk running with fewer guards and being attacked or turning around.”

  Wu Ying winced slightly, sipping on the cup of wine as a tinge of guilt flashed through him. Not that he could protect all the merchants. And if he tried, he would definitely be late. The merchants would travel at the slowest pace. Once again, Wu Ying felt the helplessness of his position, of his inability to alter the world or choose what his heart desired. Once again, he was forced to choose between his own future and the well-being of others.

  “Do not worry, young man,” Xi Rang said, clapping Wu Ying on the shoulder. “Some things we can only leave to our fate.”

  Wu Ying looked at the smiling man then nodded. Too true. Some things only the heavens could dictate. It was not his place to choose for Xi Rang or any of the merchants. He could only live the life he had, doing the best he could. To cut short his own journey now for others would be a betrayal of his destiny.

  “Come. Let us drink, rejoice at new friends, fateful encounters, and a brighter future tomorrow!” Xi Rang said, waving to the barkeep. “I will order us some good wine.”

  Dismissing the deep thoughts, Wu Ying gratefully accepted Xi Rang’s words. Yes. Drink now, worry tomorrow.

  Wu Ying set off early the next morning, intent on making up for the lost time yesterday. A part of him worried as well that the bandits would find their boss. Even if he had progressed to another tier in his cultivation, Wu Ying had to admit that his actual martial arts proficiency was not up to par. Only time and practice would take him to the next stage. For a moment, Wu Ying lamented his inability to be a genius—an individual who could glance at a single performance of a form and grasp its fine points. No, Wu Ying was a plodder, someone who could only develop through repetition and hard work.

  As he ran, Wu Ying touched the pouch inside his robe. That morning, in the privacy of his room, Wu Ying had had the time to view what he had received from Xi Rang last night. The simple seal that denoted Xi Rang’s favor had been quickly viewed and put away. In the future, it might be of use if Wu Ying ever needed the merchant’s help. The pill, on the other hand, was surprisingly another Marrow Cleansing pill. This one brought less of a refreshing fragrance, a simple indicator that its quality was lower than the previous one. Of course, Wu Ying knew the real pill-makers, the alchemists, would have better ways of telling the quality. But that was another area of study he had no access to.

  Even then, the fact stood that the pill was free—a gift. And a single pill would have cost at least a month’s contribution points if Wu Ying had purchased it. Even if the efficacy of the pill was not as high, he would need to consider carefully how best to use it. After further thought and more li, Wu Ying came to a simple conclusion—use it later. The hardest time for a cultivator to progress was not in the beginning but during the process of breaking through to another level. The cleansing process required sufficient chi within an individual’s body. However, the process of breaking through was wasteful and spent the gathered chi within a cultivator’s dantian like water in a dry field. Rather than use it now, Wu Ying would wait until he was ready to attempt another breakthrough. In that way, he would guarantee his progress and make full use of the gift.

  Pill issue settled, Wu Ying settled more comfortably into his run. The only concern for him now was to cover the missed distance, which meant he needed to run one and a half times farther than before this day. That way, he would be able to find a place to camp during the night, letting him skip the expense of staying at a rest stop. Thankfully, the increase in his cultivation had led to a corresponding increase in his physical strength and endurance. As such, the harder pace he was setting was viable.

  Once he’d settled into his new running pace Wu Ying turned his attention to his aura. While having a reduced presence had some disadvantages, Wu Ying still felt that practicing the cultivation exercise was important. As he studied the cultivation exercise, Wu Ying further understood some of the implications of its ability. Being able to suppress all information about one’s cultivation could provide significant benefits during a fight. Of course, there was some slight concern that such activity could be considered inappropriate for a martial artist—after all, at the apex level, the goal was a complete suppression of his aura, making him effectively invisible to spiritual senses. That was something only an assassin would do.

  Then again, Wu Ying chuckled to himself, the idea that he could ever achieve an apex understanding of any cultivation method was inconceivable. He was but a rice farmer from a small village. That kind of training, of ability, was something only the heroes, the geniuses, and the carefully guided members of sage clans could expect.

  But at least, Wu Ying thought, he had one thing and that was the discipline, the earth-deep stubbornness that made up the caretakers of the land. Drought, flood, pestilence, and sun, you worked the earth. Day in and day out, because there was no other choice. And so, Wu Ying worked the exercise, trained himself as he ran. Even if he only was half, a quarter as gifted as those heaven-blessed individuals, he could still move forward. And that, in itself, was sufficient.

  Day. Then night. Then day again. Wu Ying ran, covering li after li of ground, his feet pounding flattened earth, worn cobblestones, and sometimes even wooden planks as he crossed the numerous streams and rivers that dotted the countryside. He covered the ground he needed and made up the lost time. That moment of enlightenment and a s
ingle good deed had done wonders for Wu Ying. It would almost make up for the trouble it brought to him right now.

  “This the one?” The bandit who asked the question was, surprisingly, small. Barely over five feet tall, he moved with a limber litheness and a predatory grace that set Wu Ying’s teeth on edge. Wu Ying also noted that he wielded a jian, as well as the deference the bandit group showed him.

  “Yes, leader,” a familiar-looking bandit said as he eyed Wu Ying. The last time Wu Ying had seen the bandit, it had been holding on to the merchant’s horses. The bandit ex-ambusher sneered at Wu Ying, his lip curling up as his mustache trembled. “He’s the one who killed our men.”

  “My men. Which you uselessly got killed,” the short man said. “You did well, guessing he’d go ahead.”

  “Thank you, honored leader Ji Ang,” the ex-ambusher said with a relieved smile.

  The smile stayed on his face even when the infamous bandit spun around, his sword unsheathing before it slashed across the ex-ambusher’s neck. The smile stayed until frantically firing nerves and reality hit and the ex-ambusher staggered backward, clutching at his bleeding neck. The bandit’s mouth moved, as if trying to ask why, but no words came from his destroyed throat.

  “But you lost my men. After I told you not to take them,” Ji Ang said. “Failure after disobeying orders is not acceptable.”

  Wu Ying watched Ji Ang’s ruthless action silently, flicking his gaze around the group that surrounded him. There were easily over twenty bandits, more than enough to deal with a cultivator like him. They had come out of the woods on the trail as he turned a corner, surrounding him before he could escape. Now, all Wu Ying could do was wait with his hand on his sword, hope to take as many as possible if he was forced to fight, and search for a way out.

  “Well, now, what do we do now?” Ji Ang walked forward, his eyes raking over Wu Ying’s body. “You’re not bad. Well built. Decent cultivation.” Wu Ying shifted uncomfortably, waiting. Ji Ang’s smile grew wider. “Ah! I have it. I have a newly opened position. Join me.”

  Wu Ying’s jaw fell open slightly, the offer the last thing he had expected. A way out was mildly tempting. When he glanced at the former occupant of the position, what little temptation there was disappeared. Better to die now, honor intact, than at the whims of an insane, corpse-loving bandit. Even Wu Ying knew that the chance of him running away if he agreed to join was highly unlikely. More likely, they would watch him closely and give him a “test” soon after.

  As Wu Ying’s jaw firmed and he settled into a stance, Ji Ang’s smile widened. “I thought so. You cultivators are all the same. Always concerned about your honor. Well then. Die.”

  At the bandit’s command, his men surged into action. Bows which had been pointed at Wu Ying twanged, loosing a trio of arrows at the already moving cultivator. Since there were two bows pointed at him from the right and one on the left, Wu Ying went left. In the time Ji Ang had taken to show off, Wu Ying had pulled his bag off both his shoulders so that he could sling it in front of him as he rushed forward. Stuffed full of hard food, his clothing, bedroll, and his cooking implements, the bag managed to stop the single arrow coming from the left. Of the other two, one missed entirely while a second scored his back, tearing a line of blood.

  No time to worry about that as Wu Ying threw the bag at the first bandit that came at him, side-stepping around him as he blocked a spear thrust from another with his forearm. That action brought another spike of pain as skin and cloth tore. Yet Wu Ying refused to slow down, knowing that he stood no chance if he did not break through. Block finished, he stabbed the sword at the bandit’s face as he ran pass him, barely scoring his opponent and not caring.

  A dao came cutting down, fast and savage. Wu Ying spun out of the way, kicking once he’d finished. The attack threw his new opponent off balance enough that Wu Ying could grab him by his throat and shove him backward. His sword sliced at the bandit’s flailing hand, cutting off fingers and forcing the dao to drop aside even as Wu Ying rushed to the edge of the treeline. There might have been twenty bandits in all, but they had circled him at a distance, ensuring there were only a few in any one direction.

  “Kill him!” Ji Ang snarled.

  Acting on his command, spears lashed out. One caught the hapless bandit in the back, pulling the bandit out of Wu Ying’s grip. An axe cut into Wu Ying’s side while a dagger halberd cut into his leg. Focused on the archer ahead of him, Wu Ying ignored the injuries as he ran forward. Instinct made him cut upward, catching an arrow that he barely saw release and deflecting it high. Other bows twanged behind him, but a scream of pain from another bandit indicated how successful firing into the melee was for the bandits.

  And then Wu Ying was in the trees, running past the archer who threw himself out of the way. Behind, free to shoot at Wu Ying now, the other archers launched more arrows.

  “You won’t get away,” Ji Ang called, anger lacing his voice.

  In the distance, Wu Ying heard the man running, the tramp of his feet surprisingly loud even amidst the clatter of weapons, harsh breathing, and grunts of the other bandits.

  “I’ll try,” Wu Ying muttered as he ran, weaving between tree trunks. Thankfully, the same undergrowth that had hidden the bandits so well in their surprise of him proved a blessing for Wu Ying now as the archers fought to see the disappearing cultivator.

  As the initial rush of adrenaline faded, Wu Ying felt the pain from his numerous injuries. He gritted his teeth as he ran, feeling his blood fall beside him. He couldn’t outrun them all, not injured. But having no other choice, Wu Ying kept going. Behind him, the howls and shouts from the bandits slowly changed from surprise to glee as they began to have fun.

  “Come on, boy. Run.”

  “Oooh, you’re bleeding. Bleeding real good.”

  “You should have stood and fought. Better than to run and die tired.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a head start.”

  Wu Ying’s breathing grew ragged as he grew tired. The pain in his body expanded, encompassing his world even as the bandits behind closed in on him. A stumble sent him sprawling, desperately grasping for something to hold him up even as an arrow flashed overhead to slam into a tree. Pushing with all his might, Wu Ying stood again and staggered forward.

  “Almost got him!”

  Of course, whether it was true or just another taunting shot, Wu Ying didn’t know. Thunder drummed in Wu Ying’s ears. Thunder from the labored beating of his heart. Thunder from the footsteps coming for him. Thunder from the falls ahead.

  Falls?

  Wu Ying’s head came up as hope sprang in his chest. It was insane. It was cliché. How many heroes threw themselves from the falls to come back later, stronger than ever? But, perhaps… well. It was better than running aimlessly. Wu Ying found his feet picking up as he angled toward the waterfall. Perhaps knowing what he intended, the bandits sped up behind him.

  Faster. Wu Ying ran faster, heading for the loudest parts of the falls. Faster. He could even hear the water running now.

  A hand fell on his shoulder, twirling Wu Ying around. Wu Ying reacted automatically, using the spin to lash out with his jian. The light double-edged sword caught the bandit high on his head, tearing off skin and sending him sprawling backward. But not before he planted a knife in Wu Ying’s stomach.

  Back.

  Wu Ying gripped the dagger in his body with one hand, his sword in the other, and turned back around to run. The fleet-footed bandit staggered around, blocking his friends as he screamed. If not for Wu Ying’s higher cultivation and their earlier playing, he would have been caught already. But Wu Ying knew he was slowing, slowing.

  The water was his only chance, so Wu Ying ran. Another ten feet, then suddenly, he was there. At the banks of the river. The river and the waterfall that crashed down into it, generating the thunder in his ears. With a groan, Wu Ying stumbled forward, realization hitting him. Of course the loudest part of the river was where the falls fell.

&
nbsp; Hope disappeared as Wu Ying stared at the water. In the foaming white beneath the waterfall, directly beneath the thundering cascade of liquid, he thought he saw something. But another shout made him turn around to face his assailants. Tired, bleeding, and bereft of hope, Wu Ying raised his weapon. Better to die standing.

  “Sorry, Papa. Sorry, Mama.”

  Chapter 14

  The bandits slowly exited the dense undergrowth, no longer feeling the need to run as they cornered the bleeding cultivator. Wu Ying slowly looked across the group, his chest heaving as he sucked in air and his blood slowly mixed with the water lapping in the river.

  “Finished running, have you?” Ji Ang said when he sauntered over. “I told you there was nowhere to go.”

  “Leader! He blinded my brother. I ask that you let me kill him,” a particularly tall and gangly bandit snarled, showing the hooked sword that he held. “I’ll kill him slow for making us run.”

  “You’re not his match, Ko Yan,” Ji Ang said, shaking his head. “I’ll finish him myself.”

  “No! He hurt my brother. I will kill him,” Ko Yan said, moving forward with a snarl.

  Ji Ang rolled his eyes and flicked his hands, allowing the other bandit to go forward.

  Ko Yan grinned as he stalked forward, leering at Wu Ying. “I’m going to make you hurt and cry.”

  “You said that already,” Wu Ying said softly. “At least your brother was better at getting things done. When he could see.”

  The goading worked, making Ko Yan rush forward, his sword rising above his head. Wu Ying waited, watching, then moved, his sword speeding forward as he used the Sword’s Truth. The strike took Ko Yan in the throat, tearing through cartilage and bone and nearly decapitating the man. The next moment, as Wu Ying’s weight came fully down on his leg, the cultivator stumbled, nearly falling from a sudden lack of strength. He pushed himself upward with the help of his sword, his head spinning.