“I don’t believe you kicked me with that leg.” The shield cultivator sat up, talking to Wu Ying friendlily.
As the last match, the scores had to be all tallied before the next stage was announced, so the little circle they had been fighting in was no longer required. All around, groups of cultivators were breaking apart, some despairingly and others with barely concealed hope.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Wu Ying said. “I needed to win.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t even hesitate. If you had…”
“You’d have gotten your shield back into place and broken my knee,” Wu Ying said, recalling the last few moments of their fight. “That’s why I didn’t hesitate.”
“For someone who gave up after a single pass, you’re nothing like what I thought you’d be,” his ex-opponent said, staring at Wu Ying with a puzzled expression.
Around him, a few of his friends who had arrived with water were nodding in agreement. Wu Ying could not help but roll his eyes at how fast the gossip had traveled.
“You do realize he was my second fight,” Wu Ying said as he slowly stood, testing his leg. Better to head over to the healing station where more pills, poultices, and acupuncture needles awaited. Perhaps they could speed up his healing further. “If I’d fought him like I did you, I would have been too injured to go on.”
After Wu Ying’s explanation, a few of the cultivators continued to frown while others relaxed as the mystery was solved. Ignoring both groups, Wu Ying limped over to the healing station in search of a doctor. He continued to flush his chi through his body while absorbing the ambient chi in the surroundings. A slight frown crossed Wu Ying’s face as he felt how stifled the chi in the region was—probably from having so many cultivators doing the very same thing. Hopefully they would extend the rest period before they began the next stage.
Four wins. That should be enough. Even Elder Mo could not have him kicked out of the sect now. Having achieved his first goal, Wu Ying realized that he was dissatisfied with the thought of achieving a “good enough” result. No. He had come this far. Maybe the chance of winning, of achieving a position within the inner sect was impossible—but he would try. He owed it to himself.
“Thank you for your patience,” Elder Khoo said, sweeping his gaze over the participants.
Wu Ying looked up as the Elder’s voice pierced the air, splitting his attention to listen as he continued to cultivate and heal.
“The wins and comments have been tallied. Those of you who have been chosen to have an opportunity to win a spot in the Inner sect will be informed in person.
“The next stage of the tournament begins now!”
Chapter 23
“Long Wu Ying?”
“Yes?” Wu Ying said carefully, turning to the attendant. It was probably time to get off the field, though he wondered why they felt the need to tell him directly.
“Please proceed to the front of the courtyard,” the attendant said, gesturing in the direction she wanted him to go. Wu Ying’s nodded, a part of him wondering why she looked so familiar. “Please, Junior.”
“Yes. Of course,” Wu Ying said as he stood and winced as pain ran through him. Cracked shin bone, two broken ribs, torn and strained left arm muscles, and so many bruises he could not even count them. Not to mention the cuts he had gained earlier in his first fight.
“Junior Long? Please change your weapon to a proper one,” the attendant added.
When Wu Ying’s eyes widened at the change in rules to one that enforced sharps, the attendant only offered him a slight, pitying smile.
“Yes, Senior.”
“Good.” She turned away, searching for and finding her next victim. Before she left, she gave Wu Ying a quick smile. “Good luck, Junior Long.”
That smile. Wu Ying realized that the lady attendant was one who had served him before, that first time Elder Mo had shown his displeasure. Shaking his head, Wu Ying walked toward the temporary weapons stands that had been placed around the courtyard and returned his training jian to it. He quickly moved past the various other weapons, finding the stand that displayed the loaner jians available. One after the other, Wu Ying tested weapons, hoping to find one of better quality. In the end, under the attendant’s disapproving gaze, Wu Ying gave up and picked a slimmer and slightly longer blade and went to join the other “chosen” ones.
Wu Ying swept his gaze over the sparse group of individuals who had been brought forward, finding few whom he recognized. Most of the participants were scuffed and slightly dirty, a few even having their clothes torn or sporting bruises and bandages. Still, most had taken the time to clean themselves up, and a few had even changed into spotless robes. After his initial assessment, Wu Ying realized that not a single other participant looked as beaten as he did.
Among those gathered, Wu Ying noted that Tou He was not present, but surprisingly, Yue Xin had advanced. Eyes narrowing, Wu Ying stretched out his senses, feeling for Yue Xin’s presence, only to be staggered by the result. Body Cleansing 10? How? Why? Head spinning, Wu Ying was caught staring at Yue Xin by the very person who sneered at Wu Ying.
“Really? They even let a dog like you this far?” Yue Xin taunted.
His words drew the attention of others to Wu Ying’s battered and bloody form, their gazes raking over his disheveled clothing before they assessed his cultivation. More than one sneered like Yue Xin. Between his clothing, his injuries, and the faint presence that he released, Wu Ying knew he was not an imposing sight, especially compared to the Energy Gathering cultivators among them.
“Just like they let you in,” Wu Ying said.
“I won four of my fights,” Yue Xin said with a snarl and touched his sword’s hilt. Drawn by the movement, Wu Ying blinked as he realized that Yin Xue had upgraded his weapon. “That’s right. My father passed the family sword to me.”
As a villager, Wu Ying knew the stories. It was a fabled sword—at least in their village. Said to be sharp enough to cut a dropping silk scarf, light enough for a child to wield, and durable enough that it never chipped. Of course, a lot of those were from children’s stories, but it was without a doubt a very good weapon.
“That’s… nice.” Wu Ying replied, trying hard to supress the flare of jealousy and anger. Jealousy over the fine weapon used by an inconsiderate, privileged child, and anger that his own parents were unable to provide him such a gift. It was irrational, but then, emotions were.
“Pray you do not meet me,” Yin Xue taunted once more.
“I could say the same for you,” Wu Ying said then bit his tongue. Damn it. Why was he acting so juvenile?
Shaking his head, Wu Ying turned away from Yin Xue. He ignored the mocking laugh behind him, lips pressed together as he waited for the next announcement. Before it could happen though, a commotion erupted from the sidelines as an attendant walked out of the crowd, pulling a reluctant Tou He by the ear.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Please stop. Please!” Tou He complained.
When the female attendant finally made it most of the way into the courtyard, she tugged Tou He forward in front of her before launching him the rest of the way with a well-aimed push-kick. The monk flew forward, tucking himself into a perfect recovery roll to end up crouched and clutching his ear, still complaining.
“Tou He?” Wu Ying said as he stared at his friend.
“Hi!” Tou He waved, still rubbing his ear as he walked over.
“What happened? How are you here?” Wu Ying was sure that Tou He had said he’d lost his other fight, so he must have lost two already. There was no way he should be part of this group.