Выбрать главу

The splash of water made Wu Ying open his eyes. He blinked, jaw dropping as Elder Hsu climbed into the bathtub himself.

When he noticed Wu Ying looking at him, the Elder offered Wu Ying a big grin. “I see you decided to enjoy my hot bath.”

“Yes, Elder.” Wu Ying decided not to ask forgiveness since it seemed the Elder did not think there was anything to forgive. Better not to bring attention to a potential faux pas.

“You did well for your first session,” Elder Hsu said. “The Northern Shen style is not very appropriate though.”

“It did not seem like it,” Wu Ying admitted.

“That is because it was developed for use while in armor on a battlefield,” Elder Hsu explained. “The Sucking Snail is a dueling style, meant for use against a single opponent.”

“Really?” Wu Ying said, curious. “But…”

“Why learn something so lacking in practical application?” Elder Hsu said.

“I would not say that, Elder.”

“Many more have,” Elder Hsu said. “It matters not. I study the style because it is part of my dao, not theirs.”

“And you gain from practicing with, well, me?” Wu Ying said, deciding to test the waters as Elder Hsu continued to act so open.

“I do.”

Wu Ying opened his mouth to ask how then shut it. Open or not, if Elder Hsu wanted to clarify, he would have. In the end, it was not the place for an inner sect member to question an Elder. A childhood memory of being called up to his father and berated after his teacher had left came back to Wu Ying. It had all come about because his teacher had seemed so nice, playing with the children and answering all their questions. So much so that Wu Ying had dared to question her about her past and what a pretty young lady was doing in their small village. The caning Wu Ying received afterward had reinforced the lesson of respect.

“Elder, if the Northern Shen cannot handle your style, what would do better?” Wu Ying asked after a while, when the silence between the pair grew too scorching, much like the heat from the tub.

“The best solution to a wrestling style is another wrestling style,” Elder Hsu said, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “As an inner sect member with your body proportions, you have numerous options to choose from. You’re a swordsman, right?”

“Yes, Elder.”

“So you won’t want to stay off your feet forever. You’ll want to get back up as soon as possible. The Northern Shen is good for that if you can dodge the attack, but it teaches nothing about getting up or extracting yourself from a grapple. You could look into the Rolling Pig of Kunlun or the Striking Bamboo. Both feature methods to throw off opponents faster and are more appropriate for swordsmen. But you’re quite strong. You’d be better building those muscles now so that when you get your Core, there’s more place to fit the chi in. In that case, the Grandiose Elephant’s Tusk or Jade Sea Serpent on the Morning Dew would suit you better. ”

Wu Ying nodded, memorizing the names of the styles mentioned. He would have to find the time to look them up later.

“But you’ve yet to achieve an intermediate understanding of the Northern Shen Kicking Style, yes?”

“Not yet.”

“Then you’re better off waiting until you do so,” Elder Hsu said, flopping backward and putting his arms on the edge of the tub. When he did so, Wu Ying realized that there was a faint scar right above where Elder Hsu’s heart would be.

“Yes, Elder.”

“The first thing to learn is to relax when appropriate.”

“Relax?” Wu Ying’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes, relax,” Elder Hsu said. “Wrestling is learning to be relaxed when appropriate and strong when you’re not.”

“Thank you for the advice, Elder,” Wu Ying said. It made sense, and the advice about achieving at least an intermediate level had been repeated by everyone else. Wu Ying had a feeling he was close to achieving that state.

“For now, come back in a week.”

“A week?” Wu Ying frowned. That would significantly impact the number of sect points he could earn.

“A week. Your understanding of the Shen Style and your cultivation is too low for there to be significant progress in both your defense against my style and your own development if you return sooner,” Elder Hsu said.

“Yes, Elder.”

The rest of the bath was quiet, allowing Wu Ying to mull over the fight, the little blurred pieces he remembered, while trying to prise apart what he could learn. In the end, Wu Ying had to admit this was not as bad an assignment as he feared. Now all he needed to do was get over the minor claustrophobia he had gained.

Chapter 7

As his inner sect assignment was finally dealt with, Wu Ying now had a fully settled schedule. Every day he rotated between his various classes for blacksmithing and pill refining while continuing his martial and cultivation practice, interrupted by his weekly visits to Elder Hsu’s training grounds.

Under that grueling regime, late winter arrived, blanketing the mountain with a cold layer of frost at night that melted in the warmer rays of sunshine in the day. The last of the autumn leaves were swept away while in the lower valley, the second crop of rice was planted. Throughout this time, the occasional heavy rainfall would chill cultivators to the bone.

During these heavy rainfall periods, Wu Ying saw the difference between the true cultivators and those still struggling to ascend the entrance steps of immortality. As water ran down the stone-paved roads, soaking Wu Ying’s cloth-topped shoes, he watched jealously as Core-bearing Elders and those in the higher stages of Energy Storage flew across the running water. The ability to lighten their body via qinggong skills and their chi dispersal allowed them to traverse the paths with dry feet.

Wu Ying sighed as another of his inner sect colleagues flitted past him as he trudged up the mountain, watching their feet barely touch the rain-slicked floors before they kicked off again. Deep envy tugged at his heart as he watched them fly. As tempting as it was to try to study a qinggong skill, he had his hands full with both the Northern Shen and Long family styles for now. And without an Energy Storage meridian, he could not use the skills to their full extent.

As Wu Ying walked farther up, he spotted a cultivator standing with his hand outstretched, his gaze fixed on the raindrops landing on his raised palm. Each raindrop struck and bounced off the still form, soaking the cultivator completely as his umbrella lay discarded by his side. Around the cultivator, environmental chi flowed in such volume that the water- and air-aspected chi swirled and formed rings of water around the cultivator, reacting to the man’s moment of enlightenment. Enlightenment might be rare, but with so many cultivators searching for their dao, the sight of a cultivator touching the Dao was not uncommon in the sect.

“Wu Ying!” Tou He’s happy voice called to the cultivator as Wu Ying finally managed to make his way to the training grounds.

As always, martial specialists continued to fight without pause, paying scant attention to the falling water. A few of the more gifted in the Energy Storage stages even had a light cover of chi coating their aura, keeping them and their clothing dry. Unlike Elder Hsu’s training courtyard, the training ground was properly constructed with sufficient drainage paths. Elder Hsu seemed to relish fighting in the cold, chilling rain, grappling and pushing Wu Ying’s face into the inch or so of water that collected on the floor. Wu Ying had almost drowned in that inch of rainwater the last time they grappled, increasing his ever-growing claustrophobia. If not for regular meditation sessions, Wu Ying was certain he would have quit long ago.

“Wu Ying?” Tou He repeated.