by Wong, Tao
“Mistake,” Wu Ying said, watching as she backed off.
“Oh?” Fan Yi asked, curious.
“Tou Hei’s offense is his defense,” Wu Ying said.
As if to highlight his point, Lan Ying hit the edge of the stage. Unable to retreat, the large woman blocked desperately, even going so far as to deflect with the palm of her free hand. Tou Hei stopped, standing just within his range but not hers. His staff kept moving, striking at her, bouncing from one deflection to the next as he wielded both ends of the staff. Overwhelming her thin defense.
“Now…” Wu Ying breathed.
As if on cue, the staff stopped and stabbed out, just once. It slipped past Lan Ying’s hasty defense to land on her chest. It was a gentle push and the woman caught herself as she fell, flipping over to land gracefully.
But off the stage.
“You know his style well,” Fan Yi said, glancing at Wu Ying.
“We’ve fought often.”
“That’s one,” Lei Hui called, crowing his victory even as Tou Hei walked back to his side of the stage.
Once he arrived, Tou Hei turned around and stared at where his opponent would ascend the staircase, his breathing quickly regulating itself. It helped that there was an argument going on among the wandering cultivators are they discussed who would take the next battle. Yu Kun had made his way over to that side of the arena, egging them on as he attempted to take more bets.
“I noticed you did not place a wager,” Fan Yi said to Wu Ying.
“True.”
When she realized that Wu Ying was not going to explain further, she prodded. “Is there a reason?”
“I’m a poor peasant. Ex-peasant,” he corrected himself. “I don’t exactly have the spirit cores to lose.”
“Even for a certain win?” Fan Yi asked, eyes glinting with amusement.
“As my father used to say—in gambling, a certain bet is a fool’s bet.” Wu Ying pursed his lips before he added. “Though he only ever said that when we were racing grasshoppers. Just before mine was blown off course…”
Wu Ying’s eyes narrowed at the memories. A niggling suspicion bloomed as he considered how chi—sword chi or just energetic chi—could be projected. His father might have been at the Body Cleansing stage, but he could easily project enough energy to push a grasshopper off course mid-jump.
“That cheating… cheater!” Wu Ying shouted as suspicion became certainty. “He always took my share of the tang yuan[21]!”
Quite a few faces had looked at Wu Ying at his first declaration, eyes narrowed in suspicion at Tou Hei. Then, realizing he was shouting about sweet desserts, their interest disappeared. All but Fan Yi, whose eyes crinkled in amusement.
“That damnable, cursed man. How could he do that to his only child!” Wu Ying complained to her, even as Tou Hei faced his new opponent. This one wielded a jian like Wu Ying, and while Wu Ying would normally be interested, this time he had a bigger concern that had to be vented.
“My sister would tell me my parents were calling for me when the long xu tang[22] hawker came by the house,” Fan Yi offered, making a face. “Then she’d buy and eat my portion before I got back. And said it was for my own good, so that I didn’t get fat.”
Wu Ying looked at the slim martial artist.
She grinned at Wu Ying’s incredulous look. “Oh, my sister is Fairy Xi.”
Wu Ying blinked, then his jaw dropped. “Oh, I didn’t… well. I…” He drew a deep breath. “I never had many chances to eat long xu tang. It was too expensive.”
“Understandable,” Fan Yi said.
While sugary products were not impossible to purchase, they were expensive. The sugar canes that one had to purchase often came from farther south, so blocks of sugar would be transported, raising the overall price of the commodity.
Wu Ying sighed and calmed himself. By the time he paid attention to the fight above, it was over. The wandering cultivator was walking away, his sword sheathed as he cradled his injured hand. Wu Ying winced, knowing it was likely from a simple strike to the top of the hand. It didn’t take much force to crack the bone in the hand connecting wrist to thumb. As he well knew.
“Hun dan,” Wu Ying cursed. “I missed the fight.”
“Well, maybe you should have considered shutting up and watching.” The voice that spoke behind them was curt and irritated.
Wu Ying turned around and glared. But he had to admit, the man had a point.
Having been told off, Wu Ying fell silent and paid attention. Fan Yi, noticing his change in demeanor, also kept silent as she watched Wu Ying and Tou Hei at the same time.
Over the next few fights, Tou Hei acquitted himself well. It was the fifth opponent who pressured him at first before he slipped and fell. The sixth fight was a hard-fought battle of whirling spears and staff, of hard strikes and close misses, all peppered with weapon intent and chi infused strikes and defenses. And so, as the seventh round began, the inevitable occurred.
It was something Wu Ying had been concerned about since the beginning of the game. Tou Hei’s smaller-than-normal dantian ensured he’d have less chi than his opponents. And while some of the fights, like the first, had little use of the energy, others, like the sixth and fourth, were almost exclusively fought using sword and staff projections. Even in the easiest encounter, a couple of chi blasts would be released, pushing Tou Hei to protect himself by imbuing his own aura.
Wu Ying had noticed the signs after the fifth fight. Tou Hei had managed to hide it from everyone else, Wu Ying figured. At least, those down here. No guarantees with the Elders above. But Wu Ying knew his friend, had fought him enough to know when he was flagging. Now, everyone else did as Tou Hei leaned against his staff and breathed deeply in the wake of his sixth fight.
As Tou He’s latest opponent strode up, Wu Ying winced at the man’s weapon. He wielded a ji—an axe-halberd, which was a long polearm with a small axe-head on the side and a dagger affixed to the top. It could both cut and stab with lethal results. Like the spear, it removed Tou Hei’s reach advantage while adding a lethality his simple staff missed. More so, the wandering cultivator proceeded to extend the dimensions of his weapon by another foot with his chi once the normal salutations were given.
Rather than wait, Tou Hei leapt into action. He jumped, twirled, and blocked with his staff, using the full length of the stage to his advantage. Wu Ying noted the way the ex-monk attempted to avoid the attacks with his body, utilizing his physical prowess rather than his chi aura to guard himself.
Even so, Tou Hei’s attempts at defense were being beaten aside, overpowered as he was slowly cornered, forced to block and utilize the remnants of his energy. Each strike sent flurries of dust and chipped stone across the stage, sparked gold and red auras. Each second saw Tou Hei stagger, his attacks growing ever sparser.
Behind and beside Wu Ying, the crowd was screaming, the bettors teasing Lei Hui, goading him about his future losses. The thin apothecarist quivered, hands held by his sides as he took the abuse from the other sect members.
“It seems your friend will not last,” Fan Yi said. “A good thing then that you did not bet. But a pity that you did not have confidence in your own friends.”
“I trust Tou Hei when it matters,” Wu Ying replied.
As if to punctuate Wu Ying’s words, the axe-halberd wielder released a loud cry from the stage. “The Light of the Heavens—Twice Sown!”
As the ji-wielder spoke, light collected around the already glowing edge of the weapon. Light in the dull, black color of good soil drank in nearby light, absorbing it and seeming to cut apart the natural world. The axe grew in size with each word, deepening in color. At the end of his cry, the wandering cultivator brought down his raised polearm.
Tou Hei, cornered, exhausted, and without a place to dodge could only block the attack. He angled his staff, filling it with the flames of his own chi. But his fire chi was a weak thing in comparison to the earth-generated axe that plowed into his conjured defense. Hasty d
efense was shattered, broken, and buried under the dark, loamy soil of his opponent’s chi. Wind and dust kicked up, shrouding the stage and hiding the individuals within.
“No!” Wang Min cried, moving toward the stage.
Wu Ying did not move, instead tilting his head from side to side, surreptitiously sniffing the air as he tested what his extended aura had told him. When he confirmed his senses, he relaxed, even as Wang Min finished dismissing the defenses. Covered in dirt that slowly faded as the chi holding it in reality dissipated, the ex-monk allowed himself to be brought down from the stage by the worried female cultivator.
“That was… surprising,” Tou Hei said. His eyes were a little glassy, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.
“That was dangerous!” Wang Min snapped. “This entire production is dangerous. What use is there in this if you are too injured to continue the expedition?” Wang Min turned and glared at the wandering cultivator. “And you! Unleashing such a powerful attack in a sparring match was irresponsible.”
“I was careful!” the axe-wielding wandering cultivator protested, then quailed as she released Tou Hei entirely and stalked over, scolding him. The wandering cultivator shrank back a little, but Wu Ying could see a little glint in his eyes as she continued to scold him.
“Some men, they’ll do anything for a woman’s attention,” Fan Yi muttered. Wu Ying glanced at her and she made a small gesture to the pair. Wu Ying felt a wry smile cross his face, while Fan Yi turned her attention fully to Wu Ying. “And some are just oblivious.”
“Hmmm?” Wu Ying frowned, already looking away as he spotted Tou Hei getting mobbed by other cultivators. He wanted to make sure his friend was really all right, but from the way he was smiling and replying while drawing in the ambient chi, it seemed so.
A look to the side, where Lei Hui and Yu Kun were being mobbed by another set of cultivators for a very different reason, made the slight surge of happiness at seeing his friend’s lack of injury disappear. Voices were raised as they demanded payment, along with the incessant teasing that made his friends grit their teeth. Wu Ying could only shake his head at their actions.
“It seems you have lost much on this bet,” Fan Yi said.
Wu Ying shrugged. “That’s Lei Hui’s problem. He should have known not to bet. And Yu Kun I’m sure has done well on taking the bets...” Or at least, he thought he did. That was how the brokers made their living after all. Not on expecting one side or the other to win, but on the margin between bets.
“I told you the Verdant Green Waters Sect is nothing,” Lu Ren said, raising his voice enough that it managed to quiet the crowd.
Fan Yi placed a hand on Wu Ying’s, but then removed it when she saw that the youth was not making any motion to accept the challenge. On the other hand, Lei Hui finally had enough.
“As if you know any better! You bet and lost at two opponents,” Lei Hui snapped.
“Perhaps I underestimated him, but it was because I had not realized how poor the competition would be,” Lu Ren said, sniffing and raising his nose. “He would not have lasted even three real opponents.”
“Three!” Lang Ying roared, the woman stomping over. Tou Hei’s first opponent glared at Lu Ren, who turned to face the female wandering cultivator and the other, enraged wandering cultivators who had arrived behind her. “Say that again, I dare you!”
“I dare. Three real cultivators would have beaten the monk,” Lu Ren sneered.
The attention of the group turned toward Tou Hei. The ex-monk blinked as he gulped down the mouthful of meat he had been provided. He tried to hide the meat skewers that had found their way into his hands behind his back as he offered a guileless smile. “Yes?”
“You can fight again, right?” Lei Hui said, gesturing at Lu Ren. “He’s saying you can’t even beat three sect cultivators.”
“Don’t change the subject. I want this skinny, pimple-faced nobleman to back up what he’s saying!” Lang Ying snapped. “We are just as good as these sect cultivators.”
Yu Kun eyed Tou Hei, noted his situation, and shook his head. “No. He can’t.” Yu Kun straightened up. “I can fight in his stead.”
At the chorused shouts of no from both wandering and sect-based cultivators, Yu Kun ducked his head.
“Of course you’d turn down a real challenge. As I said, you Verdant Green Waters cultivators are nothing,” sneered Lu Ren.
“A little far, do you not think so?” Shen Wei said.
“Not far enough,” a smaller man with a cut that extended across his left eye, making him look like a true ruffian, snapped. The eye itself was unharmed, though its surroundings were bloodshot. When he spoke, even Lan Ying stepped back.
“And who are you?” Shen Wei said. There was no antagonism in his voice, just curiosity.
“Wo Chi Yun,” the ruffian announced. “Tell me, do you dare bet that you can beat a Verdant Green Waters Sect opponent faster than us? Seven opponents, was it not?”
Fan Yi, who had been silent thus far, snorted.
But already Lu Ren was leaning forward, almost snarling his reply. “Of course!”
“Then show me this bet,” Chi Yun said. “And I’ll match it.”
Lu Ren reached into his storage ring and extracted a fist-sized beast stone. Even from where Wu Ying was, he felt the chi it emanated. “This is the core of a Twice-Born Metal Commorant. Core level creature.”
“A good start.” Chi Yun turned his hand around and showed a beast core of his own. “Jade Mountain Goat from the Qu Yi passes. Core level.”
“Good,” Lu Ren said, his eyes flicking over the core.
But before he could agree to the bet, Chi Yun continued. “Yes, it is good. To see how little the honor of the sect cultivators really is worth.”
“How little!” Lu Ren bristled.
“You want more?” Shen Wei said, rumbling, and strode over. He made a scroll appear, dropping it onto Lu Ren’s hand. “Spirit level movement skill—The Whistling Grasshopper.”
“This is the Gold Protection Necklace of the Third Princess of the Hanju tribes. It will stop a single strike from a Core level cultivator.”
“Ever-Returning Throwing Knives forged by Master Yu.”
“A blade control exercise. It will double your sword chi projection distance if trained well.”
Wu Ying shook his head as one after the other, the two groups of cultivators stacked beast cores, enchanted equipment, cultivation and aura training exercises on top of the two speakers’ arms. It quickly overflowed, at which point another cultivator was brought out to carry the items. Yu Kun, beside the pair, was scribbling desperately, his actions copied by the other two betting agents.
At a certain point, as nearly everyone had placed their contributions and it had started devolving to Body Cleansing level spirit stones, Fan Yi raised her voice. “But who will fight on the Verdant Green Waters side?”
Both groups froze as they realized the issue. They looked between one another, eyes landing on Lei Hui, who shook his head furiously. Then they turned to Wang Min, who offered them a small, mysterious smile. As if in silent agreement, the group turned away from her. It would be unfair to choose either cultivator—both of whom were quite clearly not martial cultivators. After all, Tou Hei was a strapping, powerful young man. And the pair were not.
Yu Kun was soiled, as both a wandering cultivator previously and now a Verdant Green Waters Sect cultivator. He could not be considered a proper cultivator of either kind.
Eventually all eyes landed on Wu Ying.
“No.”
“You refuse!”
“Coward,” Lu Ren spat. The crowd rumbled in agreement.
“I promised my martial sister I would not get into any more trouble,” Wu Ying said. “And this looks like trouble.”
“Now, Wu Ying,” Yu Kun wheedled, “she can’t really blame you for this. It’s for the Sect’s honor!”
Wandering cultivators and sect cultivators nodded in unison.
Wu Ying snorted and turned
his head upward, to where Elder Yang was staring at the crowd with the other Elders. “You tell her that.”
His actions and words made the group freeze. It was one thing to have their fun. Another to bother the Elders. Still…
“Surely a small series of duels would not cause too much anger,” Shen Wei said.
Wu Ying hesitated, then shook his head. “I have no reason to do this.”
Disappointed groans rose from all around.
Fan Yi leaned over to Wu Ying, having caught his words. “And what if we gave you a reason?”
“Like?”
Fan Yi shrugged and looked at the pair of ringleaders.
Chi Yun caught on faster, eyes narrowing, making the scar on his eyebrow pucker, before he grinned. “Fine. I’ll give you a lesson. In my Seven Star Sword Style.”
“I have a sword style,” Wu Ying said.
“Not like mine!” Chi Yun puffed out his chest. “I killed the bandit Frog-Leg Xun with it.”
There were a few muttered words of awe, though Wu Ying had not heard of him. Still, from the reaction, it seemed to be a decent name.
“And I’ll train you in my family’s fist art,” Lu Ren said.
“Your family?” Wu Ying said.
“The Chan family Thrice-Struck Nerve,” Lu Ren said.
“Oh.” Wu Ying sighed, then looked between the group before he glanced up at where his martial sister was looking down at them. He met her imperious gaze for a second then exhaled heavily. “Fine.”
Muted cheers rose up as Yu Kun ushered the group to a table that had been located for them to deposit the bets. At the same time, another argument had arisen among the sect cultivators, all of them wanting a place in the lineup. Almost all of them wanted in, which raised the hubbub again.
In the meantime, with the stage empty, a pair of wandering cultivators had gone up and fought one another—to the boos of the mortal crowd who’d gotten used to the more spectacular fights between the Energy Stage cultivators.
Amidst all that, Wu Ying nearly jumped when a voice spoke into his ear, the words almost a caress. “I expect you to make it up to me.”
“What?” Wu Ying blurted, turning to look at Fan Yi.