The Favored Son

A Thousand Li Short Story

By

Tao Wong

License Notes

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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The Favored Son: A Thousand Li short story

Copyright © 2020 Tao Wong. All rights reserved.

A Starlit Publishing Book

Published by Starlit Publishing 69 Teslin Rd

Whitehorse, YT

Y1A 3M5

Canada

www.starlitpublishing.com

ISBN: 9781989458907

The Favored Son

The slide of footsteps on smooth, rain-soaked stone in an empty courtyard. The swish of a cutting blade, crisp as a rising note drowned out by the beat of falling raindrops. In the distance, the never-ending fall of water through the mountain, a reminder of the clear green waters that gave the Sect and its members their name.

Wu Ying spun, one foot raised vertically as he brought his jian – a straight, double-edged sword three finger widths wide – to guard. Another motion, timed with his exhalation of breath, brought Wu Ying into a forward lunge, front foot extending to catch his falling body as his back foot drove him forward. Not upward, not down, but forward. Just like his father had drilled into him, year after year, as morning sun rose over their rice fields. Rain or sunshine, winter or fall, they had trained.

The cold autumn rain was a minor annoyance for the cultivator, his internal chi warming him from within with each breath, each exhalation sending plumes of warmth into the sky. Every pulse of chi from his dantian flushing his skin as the green and white silk robes stuck to his body. Lunge and recover with a block, spin, and disengage the sword around an imaginary enemy. The dragon encircles the peach. Cutting three swallows as they fly. And at the end, after multiple forms, the dragon greets the dawn.

Wu Ying exhaled, sheathing his sword with a quick flick and a reminder to oil it later. Only then did Wu Ying greet his audience, bowing deep to the Elder. Voluminous black robes did little to hide the svelte figure of the Elder, only offering to provide a deeper contrast with the pale, almost luminescent skin of the titled Fairy.

“Elder Yang,” Wu Ying greeted the Elder and his older martial sister.

“Wu Ying. I am glad to see you are keeping to your training,” Fairy Yang said.

“I am grateful for the Elder’s attention.” Wu Ying bowed to her in thanks, approaching her automatically to reduce the distance between them but stopping at a polite interval. The cultivator idly noted the way the autumn rains never touched Fairy Yang; her concentrated chi aura so strong that it warded off the elements.

“You are rising on the final step. Redirect your energy half-a-second later…” Fairy Yang proceeded to list Wu Ying’s flaws. Not only did she discuss errors in the way he moved, but also in his flow of energy, using the basic principles of combat to correct his actions. Wu Ying committed each sentence to memory, grouping them into areas of improvement so that he could tackle each one at an appropriate time. Eventually, Fairy Yang finished and added. “Do you have questions?”

“None at the moment,” Wu Ying said.

“Good. Then you will need to clean up. The Assignment Hall Elder has requested your presence,” Fairy Yang said. When Wu Ying hesitated, she added, “This is not a request.”

***

Wu Ying washed himself down with the supplied bath beans in haste, not daring to make the Elders wait. Cleansed, he was grateful to find a clean set of clothing ready for his use. Even if it was just another duplicate set of robes, appearances mattered. In short order, Wu Ying glided along the stone paths that led to the Assignment Hall. Located in the heart of the Inner Sect, it took Wu Ying just over ten minutes to arrive as he bypassed the occasional cultivator. Many offered Wu Ying a friendly greeting, one that he returned as he hurried on. Nearly a year and a half in the Sect, Wu Ying was finally gaining an understanding and acceptance among his peers.

The Assignment Hall was one of the largest buildings in the Inner Sect, dwarfed only by the Inner Sect Library and the dueling arenas. The hall itself was a double-storied wooden building made of expensive hardwood and detailed with carvings of notable sect Elders, powerful spirit beasts, and mystical guardians. The multi-inclined, partitioned roofs of the building allowed the occasional snowfall to collect, though a recent rainstorm had washed any signs of the winter chill away.

As Wu Ying walked between the pillars through one of the many double-doors that led within, he let his gaze roam. The Assignment Hall was quieter in the winter months, unlike the frenetic activity of spring and the steady flow of summer and fall. Winter was the time when Sect members studied and took courses, building upon the foundation of their cultivation. Still, the business of the Sect continued as Sect members arrived to fulfill their obligations to the organization. In the winter months, those assignments could range from academic– recopying and printing new scrolls, teaching rich nobles and merchants – to mundane delivery and escort work. Most dangerous of all were the occasional hunting jobs, where wounded and hungry spirit beasts needed to be dealt with.

“Wu Ying.” By his side, a familiar voice called to the cultivator. The ex-rice farmer turned, flashing his girlfriend a smile.

“Li Yao,” Wu Ying said. Like himself, Li Yao was dressed in the pale green and blue sect robes, but was a head shorter. Unlike the willowy female majority of the Sect, Li Yao was athletic and compact, a dedicated martial specialist.

“It’s good to see you. Did you buff your sword?” Li Yao asked.

Wu Ying coughed, choking in surprise.

“Your sword. Did you buff it out? After last night. It must have been frustrating,” Li Yao continued, placing a hand on Wu Ying’s arm as she spoke. “I wouldn’t want it to be damaged.”

“I did,” Wu Ying said, his voice strangled. Crossing nearby the pair, Wu Ying saw the smirking faces of other Sect members, making him flush redder.

“You look hot. Did you run here?” Li Yao said.

“No. Nothing like that. I was called to receive an assignment,” Wu Ying said, gesturing to the long lines to the assignment tables and turning the conversation aside.

“You too?” Li Yao tugged on Wu Ying’s arm and guided them to the shortest line. She tapped her lips, thinking out loud as they waited their turn. “We should have used the Sect equipment. I was just so impatient when you told me you had worked out the new form.”

Wu Ying nodded, grateful that Li Yao’s unintentional double-entendres had lapsed again. Together, they chatted about their sparring match until it was their turn. Once it reached their turn, they turned in their Sect seals and waited. In short order, the attendant returned with a pair of rolled sheaves of knotted bamboo slips. Wu Ying and Li Yao took the assignment scrolls, walking away a short distance to read over the details.

Already, Wu Ying could tell a few things from the way the information was presented. Bamboo slips were most often used for temporary assignments. The lacquer finish of the bamboo slips combined with the water-soluble ink allowed for their reuse. This both indicated that the assignment was not important nor one that required travel, otherwise a more permanent document would have been provided. Undoing the string that held the bundle together, Wu Ying skipped passed the usual preceding information, stopping only long enough to ensure that the name on the slip was his.

“What did you get?” Li Yao said, peering over Wu Ying’s arm by standing on her tiptoes.

“I’m to show some nobles around the Sect,” Wu Ying said.

“It’s the same for me!” Li Yao exclaimed and shoved her document at him.

Wu Ying frowned, scanning over her assignment and verified she was correct. It was a simple assignment in truth, one that offered a decent number of contribution points for the ease of the task. It was an assignment that Wu Ying would have expected to be given to a noble like Li Yao, not an ex-rice farmer.

“Shall we?” Li Yao said, having taken back her slip and waving it beneath Wu Ying’s frowning face. Even if the assignment was simple, preparatory work still had to be done, including asking for permission from the various Hall Elders that would be inconvenienced and working out the route.

“Yes,” Wu Ying said. At least they would have a chance to spend time together. Due to Li Yao’s higher cultivation, they rarely were able to take on the same assignments, especially during the winter months when the martial specialist fought more powerful, hungry beasts.

***

The next day, the pair met up underneath the paifang that marked the official start of the Sect’s headquarters. From the connected pair of decorated columns, there was still a good ten minutes walk along the paths to the first major building in the Sect, but it was here that the pair were meant to meet their guests. They did not have to wait long and soon spotted the group. Rather than ascending using their own feet, the nobles had made their way up on a series of palanquins carried by their servants. Trotting beside the palanquins were their guards, clad in the iron lamellar armor, and colored padded coats of their noble lords.

“Esteemed guests,” Wu Ying and Li Yao greeted the closed palanquins together as they came to a stop. Wu Ying bowed low to the palanquins, hands clasped together palm over fist and only straightened up when Li Yao did. As his senior, Li Yao would lead the group, and he, as the junior, need only copy her actions. Part of that was ensuring that they walked the fine line between respect and effacement. After all, as representatives of the Sect, they had to keep the Sect’s dignity in mind, too.

“I must apologize, my lords, but you must alight here,” Li Yao spoke. “Guests must walk within the Sect grounds.”

To Wu Ying’s surprise, he heard no complaints over this request. Most of the palanquins only contained a single noble, but three others held a pair of occupants - the father and the prospective student. In most cases, that student was a son, though in one case, Wu Ying noted a svelte teenage girl who peered around with curiosity. Upon sighting Li Yao, she smiled. Interest peaked, Wu Ying took a closer look at her father, realizing that it was the famed Lord Yi. Lord Yi was known to be one of the richest members of the nobility in the kingdom due to the silver mines his lands encompassed. All in all, Wu Ying counted nine minor nobles, two sons, and the daughter.

“If you’ll come this way,” Li Yao gestured, leading them not inside but over to a lounging elderly man who rested under one of the pillars, smoking a long pipe and staring at the flowing clouds. Li Yao shot Wu Ying a glance as she chivied the group over.

“Elder Lu,” Wu Ying greeted the old man, bowing low and keeping his voice as respectful as possible. “We have guests.”

“I can see that,” Elder Lu said grouchily. His gaze traveled over the group languidly before he reached down beside his chair. When his hand came up again, it contained a handful of small necklaces that he offered to Wu Ying. “You may collect your guest passes. Wear them at all times. If you remove them, you will be ejected from the Sect. Pay due respect to those within.”

The nobles murmured their assent, and while Wu Ying retrieved the necklaces and handed them around, he spotted Li Yao speaking with Lord Yi and his daughter.

“Li Yao, it is good to see you. You look good,” Lord Yi said.

“It is good to see you again, Sister Yao,” the younger girl greeted Li Yao.

“And you, Lord Yi. Qiu Yue,” Li Yao said.

“So formal.” Qiu Yue pouted at Li Yao, who offered a smile in reply.

A query was raised by another noble, and Li Yao excused herself, making her way to deal with the speaker.

Wu Ying frowned, wondering what that was about. He knew Li Yao’s history. How she was in contention with her noble parents after refusing both marriage offers and, a less masculine secondary occupation. It had strained relations and harmed their own status. Now, it seemed that Lord Yi knew her.

At least this explained her presence as a tour guide. Her familiarity with Lord Yi made her a good choice. For now, Wu Ying would watch and, hopefully, nothing would come of this. If not… well. He would deal with it then.

Pushing the matter aside, Wu Ying continued to distribute the stone talismans. As each necklace was slipped on and made connection with the wearer’s aura, Wu Ying felt a flare of energy as the talisman bonded with the user. It was a temporary enchantment, one guided and locked into place by Elder Lu’s own chi. Once again, Wu Ying could not help but marvel at the strength of his seniors. To so casually craft an enchantment like this…

“Is this it?” the young man who took the necklace in his hand glared at Wu Ying, hefting the simple stone piece.

“Yes,” Wu Ying said.

“So ugly. You would think the Sect would at least have something different for us,” the young man said.

“Enough, Ah Feng,” the older man standing beside Feng snapped at him. “We are guests.”

Feng’s lips twisted in derision, but he still slipped it over his neck, letting it drop onto the silk red and white brocaded robes he wore. As Wu Ying turned to the next guest, he noted how Feng let his gaze drop down to Wu Ying’s sheathed sword in contemplation.

“This way, honored guests,” Li Yao gestured to the group when Wu Ying was done. Once the group began moving, Wu Ying took a position at the back to ensure that none of the group strayed.

It amused Wu Ying to watch how the entire group ordered themselves automatically. The nobles knew their place, the young lady and her father taking the front while others tagged along behind, a careful step or two further back. None crowded another without acknowledgment, while their guards spread out in a loose circle, keeping an eye on the various sect members they passed. Each of the guards were tense as they moved, a hand resting on the hilt of their swords or hoisting their polearms in nervousness. It was understandable. Even if not all Sect members were martial specialists, they were all trained to fight. Entering the Sect was like walking into a tiger’s den with their lords.

On top of that, of course, was the fact that the Verdant Green Water Sect was the largest in the kingdom. The outer sect by itself was made up of thousands of members, and the inner sect a few hundred. It made the Sect the most powerful fighting force in the country outside the king’s own military, and thus, not an organization the nobles could anger. If something were to happen, the guards and their families would be the first to be sacrificed upon the altar of propriety.

“These are the outer sect kitchens and behind it are the dining halls for the outer sect members,” Li Yao announced, waving her hand at the big building. Set out as a single rectangular structure, it was split into two sections – the storehouse which the road led to first, and the large communal kitchen that faced the dining halls. “Outer sect members with some skill are assigned to the kitchens. Other sect members are tasked with supplying the kitchen with the stores.” Li Yao’s eyes gleamed with humor as she spoke, fixing on Wu Ying briefly before she gestured to a pair of outer sect members in their black robes jogging over with their burdens from the city below. “As we must feed everyone from the stores, there is always a need for porters.”

“Work for the peasants,” Feng muttered to his father. Then, raising his voice, Feng asked. “Where are the better kitchens?”

“Better kitchens?” Li Yao said, frowning.

“Yes. For the inner sect and nobles,” Feng said.

“Oh. Inner sect members eat at their hall, further up the hill. Or at their residences,” Li Yao said. “But all outer sect members must eat in one of the four dining halls allocated to them.” Feng’s lips pursed in irritation at Li Yao’s reply, but she was already speaking to the others. “If you follow me, I’ll show you around the dining room, and then we’ll go to the outer sect library.”

Those words had the group enlivened, for the stories about the Sect’s collection was famed across the country. As the group obediently followed Li Yao’s swaying form, Wu Ying eyed the trouble-making teenager. He extended his senses briefly, sensing the auras of those around him. Feng’s was decent for his age – Body Cleansing 5 – but it was not spectacular. Most of the personal bodyguards for the nobles were more impressive, in the high teens of Body Cleansing. The nobles themselves varied, ranging from the high single digits of Body Cleansing to the initial stages of Energy Storage, the next higher tier of cultivation. None were Core cultivators, but that was not surprising. Core cultivators were rare and would have been extended the courtesy of a private tour.

The dining hall was a simple affair, long benches set beside wooden tables with a series of serving tables pressed up against one side. Light filtered in from the carved window openings in the rafters, leaving the room itself chilly even after a few hours of morning sunlight. As the guests moved around the building, eyeing the way their children would live, Li Yao made her way over to Wu Ying.

“Arrogant,” she sniffed, though she made sure to keep her voice low.

“They’re new,” Wu Ying said. Unfortunately, the outside world’s class system continued to be a factor even in the outer sect, as Wu Ying well knew. It was only in the inner sect that differences between peasants and nobles were buried, overcome by the stronger differences between the skilled and the lazy. “They’ll learn.”

“Maybe.” Li Yao’s eyes grew dark for a moment, in memory of her own family. Wu Ying reached out, squeezing her hand covertly. He released it and dropped his hand when he noticed Feng eyeing the pair of them, his lip curling up.

For a moment, Wu Ying worried that Feng might make a scene. There were no rules about fraternization between inner sect members, but it was quite clear to those with eyes that neither he nor Li Yao were of the same social class. Li Yao was small, graceful, and pale, her few accessories expensive and enchanted. Wu Ying was tanned from his secondary occupation and his own upbringing, bereft of accessories, but for his sword.

Still, it did not take long before Feng turned away and walked over to Qiu Yue. In the meantime, Li Yao eyed the now bored nobles. Clapping her hands together, she waved a hand to regain their attention; her usual sunny nature reasserting itself as she led them to the next spot.

***

An hour and a half later, the group had finished the tour of the outer sect library. Even the dubious Feng had been forced to admit that the sheer variety of cultivation manuals, fighting techniques, and martial styles available had been impressive. A demonstration of the outer sect martial technique had made less of an impact, many of the nobles having family techniques that were as good, if not better than the fist style that was taught to outer sect members.

Thankfully, the inner sect was more grandiose. Here, Sect exclusive buildings could be found. The inner sect library, the apothecary halls, the gardens, and smithery all held the promise of the Sect itself – immortality for the gifted. In these halls and more, a cultivator could expand their secondary occupations.

Now, the group stood in one of the many combat halls. The name itself was a misnomer, for the combat hall was a small complex made of multiple buildings and a large courtyard filled with fighting rings. In the rings themselves, a scattering of inner sect members trained, some practicing chi-based strikes whose attacks struck protective shielding, while others dueled.

“This is better,” Feng said, eyeing the training Sect members. “Now, they look better than children scuffling.”

“Ah Feng!” his father snapped.

“No,” Lord Yi spoke up. Meanwhile, his daughter peered interestedly at one of the shirtless fighters. “Your son is right, Lord Cui. This is what I have come to expect of the Verdant Green Waters.”

“Yes, Lord Yi. Of course, you are right.” Lord Cui immediately changed his tone.

“Still, they are not as good as our own guards,” Qiu Yue spoke up, tapping her lips. “I bet Yu Fei could beat them. Don’t you think so, Sister Yao?”

Li Yao’s smile grew strained as Qiu Yue addressed her. Around the speakers, the other nobles were looking much more interested in the conversation as Qiu Yue’s words were a direct attack against the Sect’s prestige.

“Maybe. It’s been many years since I saw Yu Fei,” Li Yao said. “But those you see are normal members of the Sect, training their martial skills. Of course, the martial specialists of the Sect are better, but they have their own hall.” Li Yao paused and added before anyone else could. “And many are not in the Sect, due to the winter requests.”

“Pity,” Qiu Yue said. “But, you’re a member, aren’t you? Could you not put on a demonstration for us?”

“It would not be appropriate,” Li Yao said, gesturing down with a hand and playing demure.

Wu Ying’s lip twitched a little as he watched Li Yao. The young lady was normally so much more upfront, always eager to fight. Now, she was declining the opportunity. But he could understand it. Their assignment was to show the nobles around and impress them without hurting their feelings. Having Li Yao beat their personal guards risked injuring their overweening egos.

“How about him?” Feng gestured to Wu Ying. “Is he a martial specialist too?”

“No,” Wu Ying said. “I am a Gatherer.”

“A herb gatherer?” Feng’s nose wrinkled. “But, you carry a sword.”

“Gathering can be a dangerous job,” Wu Ying said. Some of the other nobles scrutinized his face for sarcasm, while a few others nodded. Feng looked at his father, puzzled.

“Spiritual herbs are often guarded by demon beasts. Some of the rarer herbs are even farmed by these creatures,” Lord Yi said to his son, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. “Gatherers must know the differences in herbs, their likely locations, and be able to survive the actual gathering process. Some–many–take the safer path and bring additional help.”

“But I bet he can fight,” Feng said.

“I have some skill,” Wu Ying admitted.

“Then, fight me. Surely a little lesson would not be amiss.”

Wu Ying frowned, but had to admit that there was little he could find to object to that. Feng was only Body Cleansing 5. A duel between them would not even be considered fair, and so it would be more of an impartation of knowledge. Still, Wu Ying hesitated, fearing that there was something more to this that he had missed.

“Wu Ying,” Fairy Yang’s voice rang out from behind the group, startling him.

“Senior,” Wu Ying said.

Around them, the lords murmured to one another while the guards stared, both from the shock of being caught by surprise and by the beauty of the woman speaking.

“If our guests desire to test their prowess, we should accommodate them,” Fairy Yang said.

“Yes, Senior,” Wu Ying said.

Feng grinned, almost skipping to the nearest fighting arena. Feng stopped by the loaner rack of weaponry, picking a jian from it before he hopped onto the raised hexagon platform to await Wu Ying. Wu Ying took a little longer in selecting his weapon, checking over each jian to find one that most closely approximated his own weapon. Only when he found a suitable weapon did he ascend the steps to the fighting arena.

“The matches will be for light touches only,” Wu Ying said. “First to ten. Avoid strikes against the head, crotch, and small extremities.”

Feng sniffed, obviously disdaining the restrictive rules, but Lord Yi nodded in gratitude. Wu Ying took a step further, raised his sword in salute, and waited until Feng repeated the action.

“Cui Feng. Forked Branch Sword Style,” Feng announced as he swept his sword down.

“Long Wu Ying. Long Family Sword Style,” Wu Ying said.

Once the announcements had been made, they approached the center of the arena and began to circle one another. Wu Ying’s eyes darted downward, taking in Feng’s footwork. That motion was enough of an opening to bait the impatient teenager who lunged, blade directed at Wu Ying’s throat. A slight sway of his upper body removed the target while Wu Ying’s blade crossed over the top of Feng’s. The barest of contact before Wu Ying drove the tip of his blade down and around as Feng recovered from his missed attack. Blade pointed at Feng’s thigh; it only required Wu Ying to lean forwards slightly to drive his attack home, all the while keeping his opponent’s blade trapped.

“First point,” Wu Ying said, disengaging and stepping back to create space.

Feng growled, but nodded to acknowledge the strike. He moved more warily now, cautious about Wu Ying’s attacks. Even so, the next few engagements were substantially similar. Wu Ying was a Body Cultivator at the twelfth stage and had achieved the Sense of the Sword, and thus was both physically stronger and technically better than Feng by a significant degree.

Again, and again, their swords crossed. In short order, Wu Ying reached eight points, and Feng’s patience ran out. The young lord’s son took a step back, drew a deep breath, and pushed his chi from around his dantian. Outside the arena, Lord Cui hissed in exasperation as Feng’s aura grew stronger by leaps and bounds.

“An aura strengthening technique?” Fairy Yang commented to Lord Cui. “Wasteful to use for an exchange of pointers.”

“The young are impetuous,” Lord Cui said. Obviously, he could not rebuke his own child in public – what face would Feng have left if his father did that?

Wu Ying tuned the pair out as Feng finished consolidating his aura and began to attack. A half-dozen blocks in, and Wu Ying understood the degree that Feng had managed to increase his speed and strength using the aura strengthening technique.

More so, after so many passes, Wu Ying had a grasp of the Forked Branch style and its philosophical underpinnings. The Forked Branch style was meant to be a tricky style, one filled with feints and focused on positioning. Each action should allow its wielder to launch an attack from multiple directions, forcing the opponent to guess and reposition. Continual movements and positions would eventually place their opponent off-balance or unable to block the final attack. A thrust would be followed by a sidestep, opening up the inside of the sword. A twist in the feet of the user would lower the body, allowing a cut to the legs or to act as a dodge. Follow up attacks might be a rising cut or a full cut-through horizontally. It was a good style if used properly.

Unfortunately, Feng was not doing so. A style was but an expression of a form of combat, a preference. Feng did not embrace his style’s philosophy, its form of expression. He was impatient and aggressive, preferring fast-paced attacks rather than feints and careful positioning. Worse, Feng would always take the most obvious option after each movement, never attempting to mix up his attacks.

All this meant that even if Feng was stronger, he still could not land a strike on Wu Ying.

“Ten,” Wu Ying said, hopping back twice in quick succession after his latest cut across the back of Feng’s arm.

Feng growled, cradling his arm lightly. That last strike had been harder than Wu Ying had wanted, a mistiming of motion between the pair.

“Again!” Feng demanded.

“Enough,” Lord Cui said. “You are not his match. Come down, reflect on the fight. And thank Disciple Long.”

Feng muttered a quick thanks to Wu Ying as he walked off. Just as he left the arena, Feng flashed Wu Ying a vicious little smile, one that he then shared with Qiu Yue. A cold shiver ran down Wu Ying’s back as he was struck by a sudden sense of dread.

“Thank you, Disciple Long,” Qiu Yue said. “But, don’t you think that was a little unimpressive?”

“Unimpressive?” Li Yao said, bristling.

“Of course,” Qiu Yue said. “Cui Feng is only Body Cleansing 5. Disciple Long is on the cusp of achieving Energy Storage stage, at least. Even if he strengthened his aura, it was unimpressive. We barely saw Disciple Long’s ability.”

“I think you are downplaying how well Lord Cui Feng did,” Wu Ying said, offering Cui Feng a smile and then turning it to the other nobles. “He did push me and showed promise. As a disciple of the Sect, I’m certain he will improve further.” Sweeping his gaze over the nobles, Wu Ying noted that most of them had grown bored with the fight and were looking toward the nearby inner sect dining hall. As the midday sun had passed its zenith, it was past time for food.

“Maybe. But I want to see what a real inner sect member can do.” Qiu Yue raised her voice as Wu Ying tried to walk off the stage.

Li Yao opened her mouth to cut her off, only to be interrupted by Fairy Yang. “And what do you suggest? I do not think fighting you would be appropriate.”

“Let Yu Fei fight,” Qiu Yue said, waving to the lean bodyguard who stood behind her and her father. Lord Yi stood by, watching the entire play with a half-smile on his face, declining to stop his overbearing daughter.

Wu Ying let his gaze rest on the bodyguard. Clad in high-quality steel lamellar plates and a padded overcoat, Yu Fei carried himself and his long axe-headed polearm with the casual arrogance of the well-trained. When Yu Fei’s gaze met Wu Ying, a chill ran through his body. Yu Fei was a trained killer, a fighter who had seen his share of blood.

“No, I don’t think we will,” Li Yao said, raising her voice. “This is not part of the agenda. We have already let you divert us once. Maybe another time.”

“Pa Pa,” Qiu Fei whined.

“Cowards,” Feng added his own taunt.

Lord Cui watched the interplay between Qiu Fei and his son, calculating advantage between annoying the disciples and gaining favor with Lord Yi before he chose to stay silent.

Wu Ying shook his head, ignoring the taunts. He was stopped from exiting when Fairy Yang raised a hand. “Wu Ying. Take the challenge.”

“What?” Li Yao shouted and then flushed a little with embarrassment. She turned even redder when Qiu Fei smirked at her.

Wu Ying stared at his Elder and martial senior before sighing and turning back. He did not understand what Fairy Yang was playing at, but knowing her, she had a reason. Returning to his starting spot, Wu Ying waited for Yu Fei to find a suitable practice weapon.

“Lee Yu Fei. Flawless Crimson Great-axe,” Yu Fei announced himself. Wu Ying did the same, repeating his earlier introduction.

Unlike the fight with Feng, the battle with Yu Fei started without further preamble. Yu Fei approached quickly and wielded his great-axe in large, sweeping motions that forced Wu Ying to backpedal and block constantly. Each attack was a threat, and even glancing blocks sent tremors down Wu Ying’s arms. Worse, as the match continued, hints of red could be seen forming around the blade edge of the great-axe.

“Good fire chi,” Wu Ying complimented Yu Fei as he dodged back again. His feet brushed up against the edge of the platform, only open air beneath his heel.

“Not much of a challenge, is he?” Qiu Yue said beneath the stage to Li Yao, her voice raised enough to taunt the other.

Distracted for a second by the speech below, Wu Ying barely got his blade up in time to block a sweeping horizontal cut. The attack was taken near the guard of his weapon, giving him as much leverage as possible, but it was still too much, and the polearm’s head and his own blade pressed into his shoulder as he skidded a few feet.

Rather than be pushed off the stage, Wu Ying took the momentum and let himself collapse, rolling across the ground before he rose.

“Rolling like the dog that he is,” Feng called out.

Wu Ying ignored the play below the stage, knowing that his best retort would be via his blade. He shook out his left arm, the fire chi having scorched it ever so slightly before he reset himself.

“One.” Yu Fei said.

Once more, they engaged, their weapons clashing in a constant chime of blocked attacks. This time, Wu Ying took a more active role, attempting to close in on Yu Fei and get within the polearm’s reach. Unfortunately, Yu Fei was a skilled polearm user, and even when Wu Ying closed the distance, Yu Fei would shorten or switch to a reverse grip, using the polearm butt to strike at Wu Ying. A minor misjudgment of distance had Wu Ying miss a cut by an inch, only to have Yu Fei swing the polearm upwards, between Wu Ying’s legs. The cultivator crumpled in pain, his ears thumping with the blood that had rushed into them.

Long moments of agony, only relieved by careful breathing. When he finally regained control, Wu Ying found Yu Fei crouched beside him.

“My apologies. It is hard, being a favored son. But I must do what is asked,” Yu Fei whispered. When Wu Ying stood, Yu Fei had returned to his starting position, leaving Wu Ying looking confused and in pain.

Below on the stage, Li Yao was shouting at Qiu Yue, who was smirking. Lord Yi looked bored, while Feng openly gloated.

This was a set-up. Except while he was taking the strikes, their target was Li Yao. He was but the means they were going to chastise her. Or taunt her. It was hard to tell, the history between the pair of girls obscure to Wu Ying. As for the other favored son… Wu Ying’s gaze turned to Feng, who balked as Wu Ying glared at him.

A fool.

“Stop playing around and beat him. You are embarrassing our master,” Fairy Yang’s words floated into Wu Ying’s ear, carried along by tendrils of chi. Spiritual communication – a power that was only available to those in the Core formation stage. Wu Ying started and stared at his senior, who jerked her gaze to where Yu Fei waited.

“Ready?” Yu Fei called.

Wu Ying’s nod brought a flood of attacks as Yu Fei exploded from his corner. The quick series of thrusts and cuts were meant to put Wu Ying on the defense. Shifting tactics, Wu Ying altered his footwork, mixing up the usual wide, circling steps of the Long family style with the footwork of the Northern Shen, a style that focused on quick movements and a spiraling journey to the opponent. Combined with quick strikes, including blocks with his forearms, it altered the pace of the duel.

In short order, Wu Ying was within his opponent’s guard and in range of his sword. Dragon sweeps the Branches put Yu Fei on the defensive. Wind steps with each strike brought Wu Ying closer, at which point he used Falling rocks in a Rainstorm to lash out with his foot. The first kick struck Yu Fei’s lower hand’s fingers, the second went even lower, striking at the shins, and the weakened grip on the polearm. Yu Fei managed to keep the grip and defense, though it allowed Wu Ying to step deep into his defense and flip the grip on his sword to pommel strike Yu Fei in the stomach.

Yu Fei staggered back, more from the momentum than pain. After all, he was dressed in full armor. As Wu Ying stepped away to reset–as was proper–Yu Fei struck. Catching the attack with his left forearm, Wu Ying felt the attack bruise him to the bone. In retaliation, Wu Ying swept his blade in a pair of quick, crisscrossing cuts across Yu Fei’s torso. The strikes rung through the arena, wood, and iron sending tremors down his arm. As Yu Fei retreated to recover his balance, Wu Ying hopped back, opening up the distance between them once more.

“Are we still exchanging pointers?” Wu Ying said, doing his best to keep his voice clean. “Because striking while resetting is not normal.”

“My apologies. I got over-enthusiastic,” Yu Fei replied blandly.

“I think that is almost enough,” Fairy Yang called out from below. “One last pass. Our guests are getting hungry.”

Qiu Yue looked angry at the interruption, but her face smoothed out when her father shot her a glance.

Wu Ying retreated further at Fairy Yang’s words, switching hands to ‘sheathe’ the practice weapon in his left hand. He flexed his right and then crouched slightly, placing his hand on the blade’s hilt.

Yu Fei snorted, pointing his weapon at Wu Ying and triggered his own chi, making the weapon head glow. Flames licked at the edges of the great-axe, and the pair stilled. In a fight where both parties stopped moving, it was the party that settled that would lose. It required patience to wait, discipline to stay on the cusp of movement, and focus to catch that moment when the opponent relaxed.

Silence enveloped the group, broken only by the clash of weapons in other arenas. A wind blew through the grounds, bringing with it a reminder of the winter chill. Wu Ying breathed in through his nose, smelling the hints of served lunch and the smell of clean sweat, the touch of heat from released fire chi reminding him of his opponent.

It was Yu Fei who moved first, catching that brief fraction of a second when Wu Ying lowered his weight further.

Settling.

Yu Fei charged; polearm raised at an angle as he pushed his chi into the blade. It extended the tip of the great-axe by half a foot. Targeted at his shoulder, Wu Ying would have no choice but to dodge or be injured severely. If he tried to block the attack, the polearm could dip around to cut on the other side. More, that settling motion was often an indicator of mental relaxation.

The axe head was only a foot from his shoulder before Wu Ying acted. First, a sidestep forward to position his body away from the attack. Of course, Yu Fei tracked the motion, his own weapon flicking down and to the side to cut at Wu Ying. In turn, Wu Ying took another short step, but this time Wu Ying’s body dropped low. And then, a third step with the back foot forward and in the other direction, crossing Yu Fei’s centerline and under the polearm. The larger weapon, already having changed course twice, failed to keep up. As he rose, Wu Ying finally drew his jian.

Dragon unsheathes his Claws.

The cut was filled with the unaspected chi of Wu Ying’s cultivation, empowered to give the attack a blunter but wider edge. It struck at the edge of Yu Fei’s inner thigh of his leading leg and rose in a slash, so fast that by the time Wu Ying finished his motion, the sound of the strike had just reached the audience. Yu Fei staggered, unable to support himself any longer.

Wu Ying retreated, wary of a return strike. It never arrived, leaving the group below stunned by the sudden end.

“And done,” Fairy Yang announced, clapping her hands together. “Come. Let us eat. I believe Disciple Li has arranged for a special lunch.”

The nobles all smiled at the woman, some moving closer to the Elder as she led the way to the dining hall. On the stage, Yu Fei massaged the badly bruised inner thigh, already forgotten. Wu Ying switched hands on his sword as he walked over and offered Yu Fei a hand up.

“My apologies. It was a little hard,” Wu Ying said.

“It was a good blow,” Yu Fei said, taking the hand and letting Wu Ying pull him to his feet. Gingerly, Yu Fei walked towards the edge of the stage. “And a good trick.”

“I had to get into your measure somehow,” Wu Ying replied. “Nice trick with the chi-blade.”

Yu Fei nodded, and then at Qiu Yue’s unhappy call, waved goodbye to Wu Ying before he hobbled off to return the practice weapon and rejoin the group. Left alone in the arena, Wu Ying shook his head.

Politics.

Even in the Sect, it seemed that some forms of politics could not be avoided. Perhaps if he was not with Li Yao, he might have been overlooked. Not attracted the regard of those in high places. But… Wu Ying let his gaze rest on his girlfriend, on the way she chivied people along with a bright smile and words that might be mistaken.

As a cultivator, one grew through challenge and following their heart. Not by shirking problems before they arrived or fearing the future. If you quailed before something as simple as peer pressure, how would you stand against the heavens themselves?

Let what troubles may come, come. He had a sword and a steady heart. All else would fall where they would.

###

The End

Author’s Note

Thank you for reading this! I hope you had fun reading this story. Check back on the store (https://payhip.com/TaoWongAuthor) to see if we released any additional short stories!

In addition, please check out my other series, the Adventures on Brad (a slice-of-life fantasy LitRPG), the System Apocalypse (a post-apocalyptic LitRPG) and A Thousand Li (a cultivation xanxia series), and Hidden Wishes (an urban fantasy Gamelit). Book one of each series is named:

- A Healer’s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)

- Life in the North (Book 1 of the System Apocalypse)

- A Thousand Li: The First Step (Book 1 of the A Thousand Li series)

- A Gamer’s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)

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- LitRPG Society

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About the Author

Tao Wong is an avid fantasy and sci-fi reader who spends his time working and writing in the North of Canada. He’s spent way too many years doing martial arts of many forms, and having broken himself too often, he now spends his time writing about fantasy worlds.

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