by Wong, Tao
Now, hands beneath the water, cradling the large lotus pad, Wu Ying readied himself to send a surge of chi into the plant to extract it from the water and deposit it into his ring. It would be the largest outflow of his energy since he had entered the water, which should not matter. He was only taking one of dozens of plants. And thus far, the carp below him was placid, rising up only twice to snap at larger-than-normal insects.
Inhale, exhale. Then, inhale again. On the exhale, Wu Ying sent his energy through the plant, wrapping it around leaves and flower all at once. He strained, expelling chi in greater quantities as he realized the enormity of the task. Uncontained by the ice jade boxes, the Sun Lotus fought his acquisition, refusing to allow him to send it into another dimension.
His breathing grew short, his legs kicked harder as he fought the plant. Long seconds, an eternity of struggle, and the plant disappeared with a plop. Water flowed into the gap and he breathed in relaxation and enjoyment. For a second.
For something had changed.
The moment Wu Ying took away the Sun Lotus, the fish all around him had begun moving faster. Deep in the water, Wu Ying felt a shudder tear through the environmental chi as Core-stage carp pushed against the music lulling it to rest.
“Wu Ying!” Wang Min cried. The fear that laced her voice was a clear indication of the trouble he was in, even as she poured additional chi into each note to combat the struggling monster.
Making a quick decision, Wu Ying stroked over to the nearest lotus leaf. He channeled chi through his body, triggering the Twelve Gale Steps cultivation exercise, and placed a hand on the leaf. His actions drew the nearby carp to him, and they bit at his body, drawing blood as they unleashed their anger at his theft.
A surge of energy, and Wu Ying pushed down on the leaf, leaping out of the water. He flipped, landing on a nearby floating plant, then kicked off again. He dared not stay long, even as he burnt the chi within his body, as he manipulated both his own and the water and wood chi around him to lighten his steps and increase his speed.
He raced across the many floating plants, feet touching against leaf pads, brushing against burning petals and scalding his skin. His clothing stuck to his body, in parts wet but slowly drying amidst the intense heat that emanated from the flowers. Carp, agitated by the expulsion of chi, by his presence, threw themselves into the air, attempting to bite him, knock him aside. The rope played out behind him, pulled in by Tou Hei as the ex-monk mouthed encouragement.
Beneath him, another shudder.
This was followed by a scream as Wang Min rocked backward, blood erupting from her nose and mouth as her enchanted tune was broken forcefully by the spirit carp. Wu Ying sensed beneath him the agitated, moving fish as it neared.
A hundred feet and he would be safe. Only seconds were required to run that distance. Wu Ying poured energy through his body, feet pushing against yielding green fronds. Bare feet rubbing against petals and burning. He felt the movement, a flicker of energy, smelled the wave front of expanding water chi.
He dropped low. Not daring to stop, Wu Ying shifted chi to his arms, pounding forward on all four limbs, brushing against petals that seared and made him scream.
Above him, the graceful lunge of the spirit carp. Jaws opened then clamped shut on open air, missing him by inches as he’d dropped. He continued to run, bounding onto his feet as momentum overtook balance, forty feet to shore. Landing in the water, plunging deep, the large fish disappeared with a flick of its tail, splashing Wu Ying and shifting floating vegetation with casual ease.
Trouble came next in the form of a school of flying fish, all of them smaller than their behemoth relative. But angry still, intent on bowling Wu Ying over. Hands held up to his face, protecting his body, Wu Ying ran as creatures clamped on, tore at skin.
Only to realize, through the gaps between his arms, that there was no more vegetation as he neared the edge of the lake. With no choice now, he took one last flying leap, twenty feet left. Just water and fast-moving flashes of spirit carp, some clamping onto his body, wearing away at his skin. Their attacks buffeting themselves against his aura.
Feet landed on water. They pushed against the water, allowing him to keep moving. Chi flowed, reacted against water chi in the waves, solidifying the water briefly as he ran. Desperation gave him energy, gave him strength, clarified understanding. What had eluded him before worked now.
Eight feet.
Five.
Then, the water before him opened up. Water parted, and for nearly a foot beneath his feet, there was but air. He stumbled when his foot met air instead of water. Pace disrupted, Wu Ying pitched forward as he sought purchase.
Tumbled. Into the water.
He surged upward, tried to push against the shallow water here. So close. But the smaller carp swarmed, tore away at his control of the water, refusing to let him solidify it as they attacked him. They weighed him down, tearing at his aura, his skin, and his muscles. Blood flowed as Wu Ying struggled, drowning in a few feet of liquid.
Then the tug at his waist increased. Pulled, drawing him forward. Another heave, and suddenly, the water that had been like mud gave away, throwing his body onto cool, dry land. Threw him and the squirming carp that refused to give up their prey. A wave, coming from the depths, rushed out, splashing and battering the pair of cultivators, throwing them farther from the lake. As if it was casting them out like a pair of ungrateful guests, arriving with ang pow or mandarins at a banquet.
***
Wu Ying lay beside a crackling fire, Lei Hui wrapping his numerous but shallow wounds. He groaned again as he felt the warmth reach up to him, a sharp contrast to the cream slathered across his extremities that pulsed with cold. Above, the nearly full, risen moon and its companion stars illuminated the lakeside camp.
Wu Ying shifted, feeling soft sand beneath his back, silk robes laid across his legs and waist.
“Don’t move. Cultivate if you are bored. I just stopped the bleeding and won’t have you moving further,” Lei Hui said.
Wu Ying complied, though he found it hard to concentrate. There was a delectable smell in the air, rising from the numerous carp being grilled near the fire. Others had been filleted and set aside to be smoked. As always, Tou Hei worked the fire, checking on the food while he continued to strip and clean the last few fish that had followed Wu Ying to shore. All in all, Wu Ying spotted at least a dozen of his assailants.
“When…?”
“At least another twenty minutes, he says,” Wang Min said from where she sat near the fire. Fingers played across her pipa, idly strumming the instrument as she watched the meal and the rice pot hung over it.
Wu Ying yelped as a bandage pulled around his body roughly. “Not so tight!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe if I didn’t have to work around the remnants of your pants, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Sorry.” Wu Ying grimaced.
As the apothecarist continued his ministrations, Wu Ying tried to return to cultivating. It was difficult, especially when Wang Min kept looking over—he was somewhat less dressed than he would prefer. On the other hand, her attention was mostly focused on Lei Hui.
His musings were interrupted as Tou Hei, oblivious to the interplay—or playing at oblivious—walked over to Wang Min with a leaf plate of fish fillets. Tempted by delectable smell, she placed her pipa aside and ate. In short order, Yu Kun managed to make his way back, lured by the promise of food.
“So did you get it?” Yu Kun asked as he took a seat beside Wu Ying.
“I did. We’ll escort Lei Hui to the nearest road and begin the next steps.”
“Already?” Tou Hei said, frowning at Wu Ying’s injuries.
Wu Ying shook his head, even if it made his neck ache. He must have pulled a muscle—or had one bitten—during his flight. “It’s mostly superficial. My pants took more damage than my body.”
Lei Hui’s lips thinned, but he reluctantly nodded in agreement. Wu Ying kept his face turned from Wang Min, though he
smelled the shift in her chi, the way it flared as his words spoke. It had been rather embarrassing when he realized exactly how much of his clothing had been torn aside.
“No need to be ashamed. You have a nice buttocks,” Tou Hei said.
Another flare of chi and Wang Min turned even redder.
Lei Hui spoke up, his voice angry. “Stop it. We’re not discussing Wu Ying’s buttocks.”
“Or his tendency to take off his shirt?” Yu Kun said teasingly. “Not that I mind, mind you.”
Wu Ying growled, eyes narrowing at the ex-wandering cultivator. Did he have to have words with the man? It was not a major issue, especially since they were all cultivators and thus not expected to advance the family line directly. But seeing that the other man was only joking, Wu Ying relaxed and watched the byplay between the group as they burnt off excess adrenaline by joking.
“Maybe we should focus on our preparations?” Lei Hui said, rising to the bait.
“It’s okay, your buttocks are quite nice too,” Yu Kun said. “Isn’t that right, Wang Min?”
“You… you… you don’t ask a lady that!” Wang Min flushed even more.
Wu Ying was amused to note that she glanced at Lei Hui’s bottom involuntarily at Yu Kun’s teasing. And that she grew even redder when they caught her looking. Lei Hui looked conflicted, his face warring between embarrassment, anger, and a little pride.
“Enough,” Wu Ying said, his voice cutting through the group. He eyed the rising moon, wincing as he felt the sunburn on his face pull against his body. “We should rest soon. Once we’re done eating, cultivate and get ready. Yu Kun, we’ll be relying on you to watch for a little more. We have what we came for. We leave the lake tomorrow morning.” Wu Ying met each of the now-sober group members’ regard. “The next objective will be even more difficult.”
Chapter 29
“Remember, keep the box closed. I’ve watered it and made sure it’ll survive. But it won’t last forever, not without care. This has to reach Elder Li within the next two months,” Wu Ying said, reiterating the point as he held the ice jade box out to Lei Hui.
The apothecarist rolled his eyes, tugging the box from Wu Ying’s hands. “Enough. I know how to take instructions. I am an apothecarist. I have written down all you have said that was relevant. It is a simple matter.”
“As for the spirit stone—”
“Don’t take it out of the spirit ring. But don’t keep the ice jade box inside the ring with it.” The apothecarist rolled his eyes again. “I am no fool. Now, stop with this. Or do you really wish me to go?” Lei Hui’s eyes narrowed, and he shot a glance at Wang Min, who stood by their sides. “I can stay…”
“No. You should go.” Wu Ying pointed down the road. “The village should be just a few li down the road. You should be able to buy or rent a boat to reach a major canal. From there—”
“I know.”
Wu Ying clamped his mouth shut. Lei Hui sounded truly irate. Still, Wu Ying could not help but open his mouth to add another warning, only for Wang Min to grab his arm and pull him back.
“You’re done. Let the rest of us speak with him,” the musician said, pushing Wu Ying out of the way.
Forced back, Wu Ying glared at the back of her head, even as the musician led Lei Hui a short distance away. To his surprise, a moment later, a sound barrier enveloped the two. Wu Ying frowned, fists clenching and unclenching in agitation as he stared at the pair.
“You’re acting like a worrying new mother bitch,” Tou Hei said, prodding Wu Ying in the leg with his staff to get his attention. “He will be fine.”
“Or not.”
Tou Hei nodded agreeably. “It will be as it will be.”
“That is not comforting,” Wu Ying groused. He crossed his hands over his body and looked down the simple dirt road they stood beside.
Yu Kun was out scouting again, checking both sides of the road for potential problems. It was he who had stumbled across this rarely used track within the woods. It had not been marked on any map they had, but with some triangulation, they had ascertained their location and that of the upcoming village and river. Use of the lucky path and their attendant fishing craft should save Lei Hui time on his journey. And once he was on a boat, the cultivator would release messages for both the Sect and Elder Yang.
With a little luck, Lei Hui, with the two material pieces, should easily make his way to the Sect or a nearby town branch. Depending on where he traveled to and how Hinma was handling Elder Yang’s imprisonment, he could have reinforcements soon after. At least staying in one of the Sect branches would keep him and the materials safe until another Elder arrived.
As for themselves, Wu Ying could not help but be grateful for the fortunate location of the path. His initial plan had involved a few additional days of tracking through the forest to locate the river. Now, they could just cut through the forest in a more direct route, saving multiple days of travel.
Whatever conversation Lei Hui and Wang Min were having drew slowly to a close. The pair parted with small smiles exchanged, and if Lei Hui had a new handkerchief, none of the other cultivators mentioned the matter. The apothecarist offered the group one last nod before he rode off, back ramrod straight.
Wu Ying bit his lip, forcing himself to not call out any further last-minute pieces of advice. At least Wu Ying still had one of the three materials on him. And, if they were lucky, they would locate the other two needed materials soon afterward. If not, it did not matter, so long as they had one set. But he’d prefer two.
If they didn’t die acquiring one from the Chan Chu.
***
Down a second member of the expedition, Wu Ying had to admit that their desire to keep numbers low might have been a mistake. Unlike his first expedition, they were significantly understrength. If they could have gotten additional help, perhaps…
But the truth was, as many as they would have liked to acquire, neither Elder Cheng nor Elder Yang had enough contribution points. And while some might have been willing to help without payment—beyond Fairy Yang’s company—it would have created its own issues. Not everyone was like Tou Hei, happy to receive his contribution at a later time or not at all. The more powerful the aid they gained, the greater the obligations they would have incurred.
And, reflecting on the list Wu Ying had received of those dismissed, too many of the Verdant Green Waters Sect’s men were paper tigers. They had reputable martial forms, high cultivation levels, but it all came from training and not real-world experience.
Regret warred with worry as the expedition rode onward. The constant need to keep an eye out for trouble meant that Wu Ying could not take his mind off matters too often, but he still found himself gnawing at his worries. It was only when he missed noticing the return swing of a branch and received a branchful of leaves in his face that Tou Hei rode forward.
“Amithabha, Wu Ying,” Tou Hei said, bringing a hand before him in prayer, the other still holding onto the reins.
“Not that easy,” Wu Ying groused. “We’re being attacked more because there aren’t enough of us. And for the Chan Chu…”
“We will defeat it.”
“If Buddha wills it,” Wu Ying muttered wryly.
“Yes.”
“How can you be so… so…” Wu Ying threw his hand up in the air.
“Serene?”
“Yes.”
“Amithabha,” Tou Hei repeated. “Your Master will live or die as is his fate. And we will survive or not, by our actions. Worrying about the future will not change it. Nor will regretting choices that made sense before.”
“But—”
“Amitabha.”
Wu Ying kicked his horse, making it dance as his frustration got the better of him. It took him a few seconds to calm the animal before they continued to ride. Tou Hei watched his friend for a short while before he let his horse fall back, smiling.
And Wu Ying had to admit, he felt better. It was not perfect. They could still fail. But he was beginni
ng to realize that perhaps nothing in this world was perfect except the Dao. And worrying about the future would not change it.
Drawing another breath, he focused within and cultivated, forcing himself to be in the present and improving himself in the now. For whatever the future would bring, it could only be fixed by action in the present, not worrying about the future.
***
A week later, a dirty, disheveled, and injured group found themselves at the edges of the marsh they had been aiming for. By this point, even Wu Ying’s multiple sets of hemp robes had proven to be insufficient and he wore clothing that had been torn apart multiple times and—badly—stitched together again. His companions were no better off. The attacks by the monsters had grown in such frequency and fierceness that even the durable silk of the Sect robes had parted. Of course, they each kept a single, untouched piece of clothing for later use in civilization. All of which left their current attire even more prone to abuse.
For all that, their gains had grown significantly. The hardships and constant cultivation had pushed Tou Hei through a blockage, and they’d had to wait half a day as he broke through then consolidated his cultivation. The ex-monk was now over halfway through the Energy Storage stage with five open Energy Storage meridians.
Other improvements were more subtle. To Wu Ying’s surprise, Wang Min had revealed another ability based off her studies as a musician—vocal singing attacks. During battles, she would hum or sing a short verse, infusing the music with her chi in an aural attack. It was still new, and even when the attacks worked, they were less powerful than her instrumental attacks.
But vocal attacks were more flexible and allowed her to disrupt creatures during critical moments, like the family of monkeys that had found them days ago. A simple harmony had set the entire family against one another when an accidental thrown stick had struck another simian attacker. A flare of irritation, a hummed discordant note, a howled rebuke, and suddenly, a gang of close-knit monsters had become a brawling, shit-flinging nest that the expedition managed to escape.