Wu Ying shook his head, banishing the memories, and stared at the letter within. Both his parents had taken the time to write, though the majority of the letter was filled with his mother’s beautiful calligraphy. His father’s was much shorter and tighter. For a superb swordsman, his father had never learned to transfer his skill with the blade to the pen.
Ah Ying,
Thank you for the letter and the money. You do not need to send so much. Even after the additional taxes for the war, we have enough to last the winter. The funds will go to buying more meat and some fish. Prices have gone up again, with the war and the loss at Yuna. We also shared part of this year’s rice harvest with the Lohs. Their eldest son came back injured. He lost his arm and is still recovering, but we are all happy to see him.
The war continues, though we are grateful to know that the army that threatened the village has been defeated and retreated to Wei for the winter. This year, they came within a hundred li of the village. Ah Hui did very well in the army and has been promoted to squad commander. His lieutenant spoke highly of his actions and the way he uses his size. Your Auntie Peng is very worried that Ah Hui won’t come home after they release him. If you can write to Fa Hui, maybe you can convince him not to stay. You know he always listened to you.
As for the village, because of the money you sent to us, we were able to contribute more to the village fund this year. Rather than sell the foal that was born to elder Qiu’s horse, we intend to raise it. In time, we should have two plow horses that can be used, which will speed up the ploughing. Of course, Su Chin complained about the extra cost of the feed, but you know how he is.
Your Aunti Pu’s chickens…
Wu Ying read through the rest of his mother’s letter quietly, enjoying the reminders of village life, of the community he had left behind but still managed to contribute to as a sect member. It warmed his heart, knowing that the money he sent back was being put to good use. The small politics and everyday tribulations of farm life grounded Wu Ying, making him relax and smile.
The next portion of the letter was less heartwarming, though Wu Ying knew that was his father’s way.
It seems even though you have grasped the Sense of the Sword, you still miss the Heart of it. That is to be expected at your age, and striving for understanding without proper enlightenment will fail you. I understand you have acquired numerous swords. If you have not done so, change which sword you wear and practice with each day. This will strengthen your Sense of the jian and force you to search for its true heart. Remember, it is fine to be cut, but to fear the cut is not the swordsman’s way.
As for your question about the transition between the Dragon’s Embrace to the Dragon’s Teeth, you may find the following four exercises to be of particular use. Each starts at the end of the embrace, with your jian positioned above your bottommost floating rib. Of course, you should attempt these exercises at differing heights after you have grown comfortable with them. Firstly, …
Wu Ying read over the exercises once quickly, then again more slowly. After that, the cultivator stood, drawing his sword from sheath, and repeated the motions as described. Wu Ying’s movements were slow the first couple of times before he sped it up, memorizing each motion in full before he tested the other exercises. Each repetition helped commit the exercise to his memory. Before long, Wu Ying grabbed the letter and headed out to his courtyard.
Dark or not, tired or not, Wu Ying found himself filled with energy. These exercises might give him the insight he needed to progress. Thus far, his father had yet to steer him wrong. If he managed to grasp the motion, he would have another powerful tool at his disposal.
Chapter 6
Wu Ying finally made his way to the front of the queue in the assignment hall after standing in line for twenty minutes. Early morning or not, the hall was filled with cultivators as always. Still filled with energy, Wu Ying offered the stiff-faced attendant a smile. The attendant returned a flat stare, waiting for Wu Ying to hand over his sect seal, then the attendant passed the seal over the spirit stone tablet. A few minutes later, having confirmed Wu Ying’s name and position, he left to get Wu Ying’s file.
Unlike in the outer sect, where each attendant’s desk had a specific number of assignments they needed to fill—meaning that sometimes, it was a matter of luck if a cultivator could find a good posting—in the inner sect, everything was individualized. It was another minor benefit offered to inner sect members. Wu Ying knew that the benefit was as much for the sect’s sake as his. No one wanted a promising pill refiner sent to the painters’ guild.
“Long Wu Ying. You have about a week before your promotion exemption is over. Taken your time, have you?” the attendant said, a slight trace of scorn in his voice.
“I was told that so long as I arrived before my exemption ended, it was not a matter of concern?” Wu Ying said, concern bubbling up.
“There are no official repercussions. But your sponsor should have informed you that we allocate tasks on a first-come, first-serve basis. That is why most newcomers come by and begin their assignments immediately, even if it is part-time. That way they get the postings they desire. Or, at least, least hate,” the attendant explained. “Now I’m going to have find you something you won’t hate too much from these slim pickings.”
When the attendant said the last, he gestured to the pile of wooden sticks he had laid out before him. On each stick was the written details of a job that was waiting to be filled. As few inner sect members changed jobs that often, this method allowed the serving attendant the ability to review all the job openings as well as the applicant’s file.
For a time, the attendant read through Wu Ying’s sect scroll before he set it aside and sorted the sticks. Many of those he put away immediately, muttering so low that even Wu Ying’s enhanced senses found the conversation garbled.
“All right.” The attendant looked up after ten minutes and faced Wu Ying. “I’m done with the sorting. Is there anything you’d like to do?”
Wu Ying’s gaze darted to the pile of discarded slips, a question in his eyes.
When the attendant saw that, he sighed. “You really are a troublemaker, aren’t you?”
“I do not mean to be, Senior.”
“I set aside all requests that are meant for those in the Energy Storage stage of their cultivation. Then I set aside those requests that you have shown no aptitude for. That includes entertainment requests, high scholarship requests, and others requiring high artistic value or connections,” the attendant said. “Is my work satisfactory?”
“More than satisfactory. I’m sorry, Senior.” Wu Ying bowed in apology and winced internally. Being too paranoid was as likely to get him into trouble as not being concerned enough. “I am not sure how this is meant to go. Do I get to choose which task I am assigned to?”
“As an inner sect member, yes, to some extent. You inform me of your interests and your criteria; I see if there is anything that would work. I warn you, there is no more spaces in the pharmacy or herb garden, so you can forget about those.”
“Herb garden?” Wu Ying said, curious.
“Yes, the herb garden. The building connected to the main pharmacy? Where we tend and grow those herbs that we require regularly?” the attendant said with a roll of his eyes.
Wu Ying flushed, recalling the building and its mention by Liu Tsong during her lecture. Of course, the number of people who could work in the garden was low. Furthermore, Liu Tsong had discouraged his application to it since the herb garden—at least for those at his stage—consisted of the same few products produced indoors. It would be many, many years before he would be allowed to tend the more important and precious herbs if he joined the main herb garden.