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Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator - Chapter 62
🕑 Added 2024-11-25 01:46:41 +0000 UTCChapter 62: Five Elements Blade
Xiulan guided Mei Chen back to the pavilion’s main hall. Her skull throbbed from the morning’s meditation—the exercise meant to clear her thoughts had instead left her mind feeling like overcooked pasta.
Mei Chen glided beside her with unusual grace. The former maid’s eyes remained half-closed, an air of tranquility surrounding her that seemed a bit too intense. Qingfeng’s warning about being left behind had struck deeper than expected.
Ming Lihua intercepted them at the hall’s entrance. “Miss Lin, do you require assistance?”
“We need to discuss the mercenary cultivators.” Xiulan massaged her temples.
“Ah yes.” Ming pulled out a jade tablet. “Our intelligence suggests twenty remain in Blackmere. The others have either departed or... met unfortunate ends.”
“How much to secure their services?”
“Given the thousand-stone bounty, I’d suggest offering one hundred spirit stones for a week of combat. Plus one stone per day when idle.”
Xiulan’s stomach clenched as she calculated. Two thousand stones upfront, another hundred every five days of inaction—assuming all of them took the deal. Her remaining funds shrank with each mental tally. The weight of Severing Light at her back reminded her of resources already spent.
No choice. We need every cultivator we can get.
The prospect of a drawn-out siege gnawed at her. At what rate would her coffers empty? She pictured herself pawning her new robes, returning weapons—anything to maintain the defensive force.
Unless they attack quickly... With Feng Yu potentially bringing reinforcements, House Chao might prefer swift action.
“Agreed. Please send out the notices immediately.” Xiulan straightened her shoulders despite her exhaustion. “Charge it to my account.”
“Of course, Miss Lin.” Ming bowed and strode toward her office.
Xiulan stepped away from Ming’s retreating form and pressed her fingertips against her temples. The decisions ahead demanded her full attention.
Elements. Which path should I take?
She pictured Feng Yu’s blazing techniques—pure fire essence channeled with devastating precision. Next came images of Ren Chun’s fluid movements, water and earth elements working in perfect harmony through his sword forms despite their natural opposition.
Mei Chen stood silently behind her, radiating a cold serenity. The wrathful spirit’s yin energy carried distinct traces of water affinity, though spiritual cultivation often transcended traditional elemental bounds.
Wood. Fire. Earth. Metal. Water. Each element danced through her mind, presenting their strengths and limitations. None satisfied her completely.
Why choose just one? The thought sparked through her mind like lightning. Traditional wisdom preached specialization—master one path perfectly rather than stumble down many.
Fear not the man who learns one thousand strikes but the one who practices one a thousand times…
But the idea of limiting herself to a single element felt like trying to breathe with one lung. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. Pure cultivator greed drove her toward a more difficult path.
To hell with it.
She needed the flexibility of all five elements. Her alchemy required fire-wood mastery. The Thunder God’s Manual she had loved to use in the game required elemental balance—in addition to a harmony of yin and yang energies.
Xiulan glanced at Mei Chen, who maintained her perfect servant’s posture. The irony struck her—her two closest allies embodied opposite forces. Feng Yu burned with fierce yang energy while Mei Chen radiated cold yin power.
The middle path then. A challenging road stretched before her, but the prospect energized rather than daunted her. She’d walk the line between all elements, between yin and yang, forging her own balanced way forward.
Ming Lihua emerged from her office and furrowed her brow at Xiulan. “Miss Lin? Is something amiss?”
Heat crept up Xiulan’s neck. She’d been standing motionless in the hall, lost in elemental contemplation. “Just thinking.”
Ming looked at her like she expected more.
“I need additional assistance.” Xiulan straightened her robes. “Would the pavilion consider loaning alchemy equipment? And I require ingredients for elemental pills.”
“Which elements interest you?” Ming tapped her jade tablet.
“All of them.”
Ming’s eyebrows shot up. “Ambitious. Where do you plan to conduct these experiments?”
“Here in the pavilion, if permitted.”
“Simple enough to arrange.” Ming nodded. “Anything else?”
Xiulan hesitated. “Some bone reinforcement powder.”
A knowing smile spread across Ming’s face. “I could assist with the crafting.”
“The costs are already mounting...”
“Let me be direct.” Ming lowered her voice. “I’m tasked with gathering intelligence on your capabilities. Helping you craft would make my job easier. Consider it a complimentary service.”
Xiulan’s jaw dropped at such brazen honesty. A laugh bubbled up from her chest. “Why not? Okay.”
“A practical choice.” Ming’s smile widened. “I’ll even include the water pill’s catalyst at no charge.”
“What? Why would you—”
Ming glanced at Mei Chen. “The forging room collected plenty of winter’s tears during your recent visit.”
“Haa...” Xiulan pressed her palm against her forehead.
Ming led them through the trading hall, pointing out ingredients and equipment. Mei Chen bounced along behind them, gathering items with supernatural enthusiasm. A jar of Earth-Heart roots floated past Xiulan’s head, followed by several bottles of spiritual water.
“Mei Chen!” Xiulan grabbed a wayward mortar from its aerial path.
Ming stared at the ghostly display of levitation. “Interesting. The seal appears... not to have effected some things.”
“She’s creative.” Xiulan snatched another floating container. “Mei Chen, please keep things grounded.”
“Yes, miss.” Mei’s lips puckered in an ‘innocent’ way.
The standard guest quarters proved unsuitable for alchemy, so Ming directed them to a specialized workshop. Polished stone counters lined the walls, and ventilation arrays glowed with protective enchantments.
“This is quite suitable.” Xiulan ran her hand across the smooth work surface.
“It should be, given the rental fees.” Ming smiled thinly.
Xiulan winced at the reminder of the expenses. She arranged her materials, considering the complex path ahead. Five elements meant five different pills, each requiring it’s own process and understanding.
Start with earth. At least I’ve worked with it before.
She began the process, grinding spirit-infused sand with careful applications of qi. The Earth-Heart roots glowed as she reduced them to powder, their essence preserved through each careful step. She mixed the herbal infusion with practiced movements, maintaining steady qi flow as she activated the furnace.
An hour passed in focused concentration. The completed pill gleamed with a satisfying earthen hue.
Ming observed the entire process with an increasingly pinched expression. “Who neglected your alchemical education so thoroughly?”
“What?”
“Your technique...” Ming shook her head. “You managed everything technically correct, but your form is atrocious. You relied entirely on the cauldron’s guidance. That golden pill for Master Qingfeng—how could you make it? This one barely counts as standard. I assumed you were a prodigy, but you’re clearly a novice.”
Heat crept up Xiulan’s neck. “I... specialize in one specific formula. Since you’re here to help, perhaps you could explain what I did wrong?”
A predatory smile spread across Ming’s face. “Of course. I’ll teach you everything.”
*
Xiulan stumbled from the alchemy room, clutching a leather pouch filled with five elemental pills, bone reinforcement powder and body numbing powder. Her focus ached from hours of precise qi manipulation. Ming’s lessons had proved more rigorous than a month of combat training.
Or whatever she felt like a month of combat training would feel like—she had yet to get that much free time without a crisis.
Mei Chen padded behind her with disheveled hair sticking out at odd angles. The ghost girl had dozed off during the endless lectures about proper qi circulation and crystallization temperatures. Her soft snores had provided the only entertainment during Ming’s relentless drilling on proper technique.
Who knew alchemy required such exact movements? Xiulan rubbed her temples. Okay, she had suspected it, but in the game it had been accompanied with the most basic mini-game of click a button and watch a bar fill up.
Game did not equal reality, once again, driving the point home. Maybe the spike would get deep enough in her head that she’d stop getting lulled by meta-game confidence.
Ming had transformed into a demonic instructor, correcting every minor flaw in stance and energy flow. The merchant’s cheerful facade had vanished, replaced by an exacting taskmaster who demanded perfection.
And now… the rest of the day stretched endlessly ahead.
Reports from the new City Guard Captain, Liu Bao, awaited review. Officials needed investigating, arrests had to be organized, and conscription efforts required oversight. After five hours of Ming’s instruction on top of Qingfeng’s meditation training…
“Miss?” Mei Chen tugged at her sleeve. “Perhaps you should rest?”
“What?” Xiulan blinked at the ghost girl.
“You’ve stared at that wall for three minutes.” Mei Chen wrinkled her nose. “The scent of fatigue rolls off you like stale air.”
“We have too much to do.” Xiulan shook her head. “I can’t rest yet.”
Xiulan adjusted the leather pouch at her waist and stepped toward the pavilion exit. Each step echoed as she contemplated the long walk to the city watch building.
Master Qingfeng descended the ornate stairs from the second floor. His robes rustled against the polished wood as he positioned himself near the main entrance.
Xiulan dropped into a formal bow, with Mei Chen mirroring her movement. “Master Qingfeng.”
A leather-bound tome rested in Qingfeng’s weathered hands. The familiar shape and markings triggered a rush of recognition—it was identical to the icons for the skill manuals from the game. The worn edges and faded script spoke of ancient knowledge.
Qingfeng extended the book toward her. Xiulan accepted it with steady hands, tracing the embossed characters on the cover: ‘Five Elements Blade.’
“You’ve chosen to master all five elements rather than specialize.” Master Qingfeng straightened his posture. “Few attempt such a challenging path. This manual is a gift to you as a congratulations.”
Qingfeng vanished up the stairs before Xiulan could respond, leaving her staring at the manual in bewilderment. The worn leather cover pressed against her fingertips as questions raced through her mind.
A free manual? From the notoriously profit-minded Treasure Pavilion? How did he know?
The gesture made no sense. Masters never gave away valuable texts without expecting something in return. Choosing all five elements hardly seemed worthy of such generosity.
There must be more to this.
Xiulan cracked open the ancient tome. Detailed diagrams sprawled across yellowed pages, depicting meridian pathways and martial stances. Intricate script filled the margins with explanations and warnings. The familiar layout triggered memories of countless hours spent solving manual puzzles in Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles.
Back then, mastering a manual meant decoding the riddles and unlocking new abilities. A successful solution granted instant power—new meridian configurations, enhanced techniques, or powerful buffs. But reality probably operated differently…
How does this actually work?
She traced the pristine illustrations. The manual appeared complete, with no torn pages or missing sections. Five Elements Blade—the title aligned perfectly with her chosen path.
Movement caught her attention. Through the corner of her eye, she spotted Master Qingfeng watching intently from the second-floor balcony. His gaze tracked her every motion as she examined the book.
Xiulan grabbed Mei Chen’s sleeve and bolted through the Treasure Pavilion’s main doors. The late afternoon sun struck her eyes as they emerged onto the street.
“Keep this safe until we return.” Xiulan pressed the leather-bound manual into Mei Chen’s hands. “Don’t let anyone touch it.”
Mei Chen clutched the tome to her chest and nodded vigorously.
The rest of the day blurred into a whirlwind of activity. Liu Bao directed guards to set up conscription stations throughout the city squares. Officials scurried between buildings with renewed purpose, their robes fluttering as they carried scrolls and documents.
Wooden wheels creaked under the weight of grain carts rolling through the gates. The outer granary stores—normally kept separate as insurance against disaster—now streamed into the city proper. Guards directed the steady flow of wagons toward the central storage facilities.
The streets pulsed with energy. Where yesterday brought only dead silence and frozen fear, today carried determination. News of the impending attack spread through the crowds like wildfire.
Not everyone stayed to face what approached. A stream of citizens filtered through the gates, belongings strapped to their backs or piled in carts. But most remained.
Blackmere bred resilience into its people. The meagerness of wealth had forged them into survivors. Parents taught children to weather storms together, to share what little they had when times grew lean.
The citizens who stayed moved with purpose. Merchants reinforced shop windows. Neighbors organized community kitchens. Children ran messages between households. This crisis became simply another challenge to overcome—made easier by seeing someone take charge.
That thought chilled her. The people looked to her now. Their determination stemmed from her leadership. Their lives rested in her hands.
When did I become responsible for an entire city?
The answer was neither when she was born, or when she had become Xiulan.
It was when two young women had become one person. Quite literally she’d died twice, and been born thrice.
Two sets of memories ran through her mind. Her spirit swirled with two pools, orbiting each other.
One hard like yang, the other soft as yin. The duality followed her everywhere, from her friends, to her own dual core existence.
Something clicked in her mind. She wasn’t living in a dream or someone else’s body. This was just who she was now. This was her reality.
Lin Xiulan, who was also Li Mei. If Li Mei’s presence pushed forward to steer the ship most of the time, it was Lin Xiulan’s circumstances that they navigated through, together.
It didn’t feel strange anymore. She felt… whole.
Comments
Andrew
I wonder when Xiulan will realise Master Qingfeng has basically taken her as an unofficial disciple?
