“Long Wu Ying,” Wu Ying said, offering a palm over fist greeting in return. Still, he looked slightly askance at Tou He. A monk who was sent out but still wore his robes? Suspicious.
“Ah. Don’t worry,” Tou He said, waving as he tried to dismiss the topic. “I just liked eating meat too much. My father was a hunter, see? And until he died, we used to hunt and eat meat all the time. When he died, my uncle sent me to the temple, but… well. I snuck out to hunt all the time. My Master said I was a bad influence on the rest of the acolytes.”
“That…” Wu Ying fell silent, shaking his head. Really, he knew nothing about the inner workings of a monastery, so it sounded possible. “But why are you still dressed like that?”
“It’s more comfortable. The Elder said I could wear this,” Tou He said.
Wu Ying raised an eyebrow but shrugged. Well, it did not matter to him, but Tou He’s orange robes set him apart in the sea of grey, black, and green. As it was, the pair of peasants were already ostracized. If you were already on the outs, did it matter if you were further different? Wu Ying mulled the thought over, never having been in such a situation. Tou He seemed happy to stand in companionable silence until the clapping of a pair of wooden boards drew all their attention.
Standing at the head of the stairs leading down to the courtyard, a young man stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Unlike the outer sect members in their uniform robes, the man stood in pale-green-and-blue robes, staring at the group.
“I am Cheung Chi Sing,” Chi Sing began.
“Greetings, Senior Cheung,” the new recruits bellowed as a group.
“I shall be your martial arts instructor.” Chi Sing flicked his hand to his right, where a small trail left the courtyard. “To begin with, follow the trail. The last five to arrive will be required to spend another hour training.” When the group made no move to go, Chi Sing harrumphed. Even that small exhalation of breath sent a gust of wind down the steps to swirl leaves and sticks. “Go!”
Like a colony of rabbits, the group exploded into action, rushing for the pathway. Caught at the back of the group, Wu Ying growled slightly as he moved to overtake the others. His movements were brought to an abrupt halt when Tou He placed a hand on Wu Ying’s arm.
“That path leads around the mountain. Wait. There will be time to overtake them all,” Tou He said.
Wu Ying glanced at the pile-up at the entrance to the pathway, the shoving, elbowing, discreet and not-so-discreet blows, and slowed down with Tou He. No point in getting injured just yet.
“How do you know?” Wu Ying said.
“Ah. I have spent many hours cleaning the paths,” Tou He said with a slight smile. “I was assigned to the path-clearing detail when I arrived.”
“I was running goods up the mountains,” Wu Ying offered.
The pair of them finally broke into the path, going at a slow jog behind the others. As all the recruits were at least Body Cleansing 4, the initial pace the group set was quite good.
“I saw,” Tou He said. “You were cultivating too, were you not?”
“I was,” Wu Ying said, surprised at Tou He’s insight.
“It is very similar to how some of our—the monks—were taught to meditate while moving.” Tou He’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “I was never good at that.”
“If you can talk, you should be ahead,” Chi Sing said, appearing next to the pair.
The pair jumped, turning their heads to see their senior easily keeping pace by tapping on the ground with his foot every once in a while, bounding multiple feet with each step. It looked as though he was out for a casual stroll.
“Yes, Senior,” the pair chorused.
The two sped up, nearing the nobles in front of them. As they attempted to pass though, the nobles swerved in front of them, blocking their path.
“Is this how you want to play this?” Wu Ying growled, anger flaring. “Fine. Tou He?”
“Right.”
Wu Ying swerved left as Tou He went right, forcing the nobles to choose who to block. When the nobles chose to block him, Wu Ying grinned and waited a moment to allow Tou He to pass before he went right as well. When the nobles attempted to block him again, Tou He slowed down in front of the nobles, forcing them to stumble or crash into the monk. As the nobles broke their rhythm, Wu Ying darted to the side. Together, Tou He and Wu Ying put on a burst of speed.
“Good work.”
“Easy,” Tou He said.
“Next?”
“Of course.”
Grinning wide, Wu Ying sped up even further. Too bad all this overtaking meant he had no chance to cultivate. But this kind of training was good too. After all, while it was possible to cultivate without studying martial arts or relying on one’s body, the sect had little use for those who could not defend themselves. Well—at least ones without special skills.
Once the pair had overtaken another two groups of nobles, they watched as Chi Shing passed them with the greatest of ease. Obviously disinclined to provide any further motivation to those at the back, the senior was on his way to the front. Exchanging looks, Tou He and Wu Ying picked up their pace again. Somehow, they knew if they did not put on a good showing after that talking-to, they would face even more sanctions.
An hour later, the pair jogged into the courtyard, breathing deeply. Some heaven-blessed individual had placed a series of water barrels in the courtyard where the leaders had already congregated. Without a word, the pair headed for an unpopulated barrel to drink their fill before the others arrived.
True to his word, Chi Sing noted the last five outer sect members to arrive before he guided the entire group through another punishing workout that involved wind sprints, burpees, clapping push-ups, squats, crunches and more. At the end, Chi Sing demonstrated the sect’s most basic martial art form—the Seven Diamond Fist. It was categorized as an external martial art, one that focused on the strength of the body rather than internal strength and, as such, was perfect for the Body Cleansers.
At the end of the two-hour repetition of the form, the group was lined up and forced to enter the most basic of cultivation and martial art stances—the horse stance. Legs spread wide, feet facing forward, the group squatted until their thighs were parallel to the ground, and their arms were held akimbo as if holding a giant urn. There, they were forced to stand and cultivate while a gentle wind blew through the courtyard.
It had been weeks since Wu Ying had cultivated standing still. Ever since Fairy Yang had shown him the way of moving cultivation, Wu Ying had exclusively practiced it. Considering how much of his life had involved running physical errands, it made sense. Moving cultivation allowed him to cultivate for more hours than most, which had progressed the opening of his sixth meridian significantly.
Now, he was standing still, sending his chi through his body, and Wu Ying found it more difficult than he had ever thought to stay still. Drawing chi through his breath, into his body, and circulating it to enter his dantian before it could enter his meridians to do good was difficult. It was very much like pushing mud with one’s hands in a flooded field, an endeavor that was as tiring as it was fruitless. The dregs of chi that he managed to corral and send to his dantian were tiny, especially compared to the amount that he needed.
Part of the problem with progressing to each new level in Body Cleansing was the need to store ever more chi in one’s dantian. Without adding to the chi a body held, keeping fully opened meridians clean and unsullied was impossible. Wu Ying often imagined his meridians were like the canal system in the village—if you added another field with its own canals, you needed more water. Too little water and none of the fields were properly submerged, resulting in little to no crops.