NOVPUBXiulan stuffed the spirit egg into its padded cloth pouch, tucking the bag beneath her robes with a frustrated grunt. The egg pulsed warmly against her side, drawing a trickle of qi from her meridians even when she wasn’t actively feeding it.
“Just like a damn Tamagotchi,” she muttered, adjusting her robes to hide the slight bulge.
She paced her quarters, fingers drumming against her thigh. Getting booted from Elder Chang Liu’s combat class had initially seemed like a blessing. But reality was sinking in. Combat skills weren’t optional for cultivators; they were fundamental.
Xiulan flopped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. “I need a plan.”
The herbology texts she’d borrowed sat in a neat stack on her desk. She knew the names and appearances of most herbs from the game, but actual alchemy required precise preparation methods, temperature control, and qi infusion techniques.
Golden Meridian Pill mastery didn’t translate into being a genius.
“Bastard devs,” she snorted, sitting up. “Make the starter pill easy so noobs can level up, then hit them with the real shit once they’re invested.”
She pulled out her notes on the Five Elements Manual and flipped through them. The Tree Sigh Method had come easily enough with Ming’s help—perhaps too easily.
Ming had seemed surprised by her progress. So maybe we she was doing a good job?
A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She tucked her notes under a book and crossed to the door.
Ming stood in the doorway, her normally composed face pinched with annoyance. The senior disciple didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“I got you into a new combat class,” Ming announced. “A remedial one for struggling students.”
Xiulan suppressed a groan as she invited Ming inside. So they have make-up classes here too? Actually, that’s kind of nice. At my college, you just failed and retook the class next year.
“What’s this class like?” Xiulan asked, closing the door behind Ming.
“It’s not led by an elder. One of the outer disciples teaches it, with an inner disciple oversees testing.” Ming stopped and turned to face Xiulan. “It’s held in an outer section of the pavilion.”
“And our schedule?”
“We have another mission next week,” Ming said, straightening a stack of books on Xiulan’s desk. “Until then, focus on your classes. Elder Wang’s alchemy is important, but combat training is essential too.”
Xiulan nodded. “As long as I have time to practice on my own, I can make progress.”
“You’ve already had practical experience and self-training,” Ming said, her expression softening slightly. “But you should learn methods from those who came before. There’s value in established techniques.”
Xiulan considered this for a moment. “Why don’t you just teach me everything?” she asked. “You’re my senior sister, and we’re not technically part of Aeris Pavilion, right? You could teach me everything I need to know.”
Ming turned and smiled—a genuine smile that reached her eyes. “I will if needed, but it’s better to get more than one perspective. Different teachers offer unique insights.”
Xiulan felt a weight lift from her shoulders. If everything went wrong with the Pavilion, at least Ming would be there.
“When does the class start?” Xiulan asked, expecting to have at least a day to prepare herself.
Ming’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Right now, actually.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Now?” Xiulan blinked in surprise. “I thought we were just touring the facilities today.”
“The best learning happens when you’re not overthinking it,” Ming replied, gesturing for Xiulan to follow her. “Besides, I’ve already informed the instructor of your arrival.”
They walked together through corridors until they reached a small training hall. Inside, several disciples were already gathered, their cultivation levels varying from body refining to early qi gathering.
At the front stood Tan Zhu, the same blue-robed guardian disciple who had spoken to her at Wu Xing’s class earlier. He was organizing practice scrolls on a small table.
When he looked up and noticed her, a flicker of recognition crossed his face, but he simply nodded and continued preparing for the lesson.
“Please take your seats,” he said, addressing the room. “Today we’ll be detailing Master Wu Zhi’s Thousand Fighting Strokes Manual.”
Xiulan slid into an empty seat and noticed a blank scroll and ink pot waiting on the desk. We’re copying a manual? Not actual fighting?
She turned to ask Ming, but her senior sister grinned mischievously, waved, and—
“See you later!” Ming whispered before slipping out the door.
Ah! She abandoned me! Xiulan stared at the empty doorway in disbelief as Tan Zhu cleared his throat to begin the lesson.
Xiulan copied each line of the manual as Tan Zhu read aloud, her brush flowing smoothly across the scroll. The classroom remained silent except for the occasional scratch of brushes and Tan Zhu’s clear voice. Every few minutes, he sketched diagrams on a large slate at the front of the room, illustrating the positioning of hands, feet, and weapon grips.
“Notice how the weight shifts here,” Tan Zhu explained, drawing a curved line to show a fighter’s movement. “Master Wu believed balance preceded power. Without proper stance, even the strongest strike fails.”
Xiulan studied the diagrams. Unlike Elder Chang Liu’s combat class, this approach made sense to her. Theory before practice, fundamentals before application. She recognized several stances from what she had already been taught, but found the detailed explanations illuminated nuances she’d missed.
As the class ended and students gathered their materials, Tan Zhu approached her desk.
“Miss Lin, may I have a word?”
Xiulan looked up from rolling her scroll. “Of course.”
The other students filtered out while Tan Zhu waited patiently.
“I oversee a small practice group after these lessons,” he said once they were alone. “Nothing formal—just students working on practical applications of what we study. I think you would be a good fit.”
“Advanced?” Xiulan raised an eyebrow. “After getting kicked out of Elder Chang’s class?”
Tan Zhu smiled. “Some learn better through demonstration than drilling. I think you might benefit from our approach.”
“What exactly does your group do?”
“We practice forms together, spar lightly. Some students teach techniques they’ve mastered to others. It’s collaborative.” He paused. “Not required, of course. Just an opportunity.”
Xiulan considered the offer. Tan Zhu seemed straightforward, without Lei Shan or Wu Xing’s arrogance.
“Why not? I could use the practice.”
Tan Zhu nodded. “Excellent. We’re meeting now, if you’d like to join.”
Yeesh. Today was going to wring her around, wasn’t it?
The training ground wasn’t far—an open courtyard with packed sand flooring. About a dozen students already practiced in pairs, wielding wooden staves with varying degrees of skill. None wore outer robes, instead dressed in simple pants and undershirts to allow freedom of movement.
“We only use training weapons here,” Tan Zhu explained, gesturing toward a rack of wooden implements. “No real blades, no aggressive qi techniques—just physical skills and basic protective qi to prevent injuries.”
Xiulan surveyed the courtyard. No one appeared to be showing off or trying to humiliate others. Just focused practice.
“This is great,” she said, genuinely relieved. “Much better than a bully trying to inflate their ego.”
She removed her outer robe, carefully ensuring the spirit egg remained safe and secure in the cloth. The egg pulsed in the back of her mind rapidly several times as she distanced from it. It was… anxious at the separation?
Tan Zhu followed her without noticing anything. “I’ll be your first opponent, if that’s acceptable. It helps me gauge where to start.”
Xiulan selected a wooden spear, testing its weight and balance. The length felt familiar. “Sure. That suits me just fine.”
Tan Zhu chose a wooden sword and led her to an empty section of the courtyard. They bowed formally before taking ready stances.
“Begin whenever you’re ready,” he said.
Xiulan realized this would be just physical skill against physical skill. No qi strengthening techniques or abilities… this wasn’t something she usually practiced. She tightened her grip on the spear and lunged forward.
Tan Zhu sidestepped with surprising speed. His wooden sword tapped her extended spear, redirecting its momentum. Before Xiulan could recover, he stepped inside her guard, hooked his foot behind her ankle, and—
“Oof!”
Her back hit the sand with a thud, knocking the wind from her lungs. The spear clattered beside her.
“What the hell?” Xiulan blinked up at Tan Zhu, who extended a hand to help her up. “How did you—”
“Sixteen years of practice,” he answered with a modest smile. “Ready to try again?”
Xiulan took his offered hand and stood up.
It was a reminder of just how later in life she had got started at this. That gap had been hidden so far by her advantages, but when it just came to plain human skill and talent? 𝑛𝘰𝘷𝑝𝘶𝑏.𝑐𝘰𝘮
She needed to push herself more. “Let’s go again.”
