“Why?”
“Because I’m your half-teacher?” Liu Tsong said. “And because I need a laugh.”
Wu Ying made a face but agreed to her request. After all, as much as she might tease, Liu Tsong always provided Wu Ying the clarity he needed.
Late that evening, when Liu Tsong had finally left, Wu Ying found himself back in the training yard, a letter from his father and the cultivation manual for the Long family style set before him. Once again, he let his eyes roam over the words his father had written.
The Dragon’s Breath is the first and most important attack form of our style. The Dragon’s Breath is not a specific attack, but the projection of sword chi and intent by a wielder. At its core, the Dragon’s Breath wraps the jian’s blade with the user’s projected chi, extending its edge and length and forming a new edge from the sword intent of the user. It is said our founder was able to project a blade twenty feet long with just his sword intent and his understanding of the dao of the jian.
As I have written before, with your intermediate understanding of the style, your sword intent is insufficient to project your attack with any force. As such, if you intend to continue to pursue this form of study, you must be prepared to use significant amounts of chi. It is why the masters of our style have always reserved the use of the Dragon’s Breath until the Energy Storage stage at the very least.
To answer your questions—and recall, I can only provide second-hand advice at this time—the projection of sword intent is a state of mind. From your letter, it is clear you are mixing the projection of chi with that of intent. To clarify the difference, begin with the finger exercise. Now…
Wu Ying finished rereading the letter before turning to the style guide, making sure he recalled the details of the finger exercise. Not that he needed the refresher. As a child, he had spent countless hours pretending his paired fingers were a sword, waving them around and “dueling” his dad. The drill could be conducted with chopsticks attached to fingers, providing the wielder additional “length” and a sense of the lines of threat.
However, in this case, the new drill was a projection drill. Holding up his paired fingers, Wu Ying stared at the raised pair before him and exhaled. Intent. Focus on the fingers, focus on the fact they were no longer fingers but the start of the blade. Sense the weight of the blade, its cutting edge, the deadly tip. Feel the deadly intent of a weapon meant for killing.
Once Wu Ying had his “jian” firmly in his mind, he moved through the forms. First one, then another. Hours passed as Wu Ying flowed with his fingers, taking each motion in step and making it part of him, part of his instincts. When he came to the end of the third form, as he threw a rising cut, Wu Ying exhaled at the same time and released the chi he had built up.
The dark night air rippled, a cutting sound issuing through the courtyard as air was forcefully parted. Sword intent and chi, compacted and mixed together to form a single motion to extend a cut far from his body. The sword energy formed by his fingers impacted the edge of the spirit barriers of the training ground without leaving a mark. On the other hand, Wu Ying collapsed as the sudden loss of chi drained him of nearly all his energy.
A short while later, Wu Ying rolled over with a groan. “Better. Only lost two-thirds of my chi that time.”
If he had conducted the attack with his sword, Wu Ying knew he would have, could have, done better. The need to form the “sword” in his mind, to create it by his intent was a powerful training tool, but it also used an inordinate amount of chi to make it real.
Still, as Wu Ying struggled to his feet, he could not help but smile. This was progress. Very good progress. Having a long-range attack for his jian, a surprise attack he could use, gave him another card to play. A cultivator without secrets and aces was a dead cultivator.
Chapter 16
“Wu Ying?”
“Yes, Senior Goh?” Wu Ying turned his head, seeing his friend and senior standing next to him. Wu Ying stood, brushing off his dirt-covered hands. Scattered by his feet were the glass jars he had stuffed with the weeds he had pulled. The weeds still twitched as they attempted to escape back into the chi-rich earth.
“Ru Ping,” Ru Ping corrected, glaring at Wu Ying.
“Sorry. All the new outer sect members have been reminding me about the formalities, especially with their bowing and scraping.” Wu Ying’s lip twitched as he attempted to supress a smile.
“Har. Yes. They’re all enthusiastic and scared, aren’t they?” Ru Ping said. “Thankfully, Elder Li never picks her people from them. Though she does send me to the gardening sector later in the year to see if there are any decent prospects.”
“Yes, Senior.”
“Oh, shut up,” Ru Ping grumped. Seeing Wu Ying’s half-smile, he snorted and punched Wu Ying in the shoulder. “I came to speak with you about the upcoming expedition the Elders are organizing. You know of it?” Wu Ying shook his head and Ru Ping sighed. “You should pay closer attention to these matters. The expedition is for the rare variant of the kurinji flowers[23]. The normal kurinji flowers bloom once every twelve years, but the variant we require blooms once every half century. The hill the flowers are located on is north of sect territory, deep in the spirit beast territory.”
“If it’s north…” Wu Ying turned automatically to stare in the aforementioned direction. Of course, being in the middle of the sect, there was nothing to see but more trees and buildings. Still, Wu Ying knew untamed wilderness lay that way, the kind of place one did not go to unless they were an Elder. Or in large groups. “That’s very dangerous.”
Ru Ping elbowed Wu Ying in the side. “Not so much for us. We’re going to join Elder Li and be her harvesters. We get to stay in the center of the group and harvest what the Elder tells us.”
“We?” Wu Ying frowned. “I didn’t agree to this.”
“Why did you think I’ve been spending so much time with you?” Ru Ping said, putting his hands on his hips. “Did you think I personally train all of them?” Ru Ping jerked his chin toward the other gardeners, shaking his head. “No. You’re here for things like this.”
“I’m happy to harvest on my missions, but this…” Wu Ying tried to find a way to carefully point out that the expedition was too dangerous. Way too dangerous. He was not even an Energy Harvester.
“Are you saying no?” Ru Ping said, his voice growing cold. He shifted away from Wu Ying, meeting his junior’s gaze directly.
“I have to think about it,” Wu Ying replied quietly, quailing at Ru Ping’s scornful gaze.
“Do so at the compost piles,” Ru Ping said flatly.
Wu Ying twitched but bowed to Ru Ping, and he sealed the jar of weeds before he headed for the compost piles. It had been months since he had been assigned there—not since the first month when he had learned everything he needed to know in this portion of the gardens. The message was clear to Wu Ying, as was the level of displeasure Ru Ping was displaying. And, obviously, Elder Li by default.
Dirty and smelly, Wu Ying took a quick shower at a nearby training ground before making his way to the assignment hall later that day. The abrupt change in Ru Ping’s treatment of him made Wu Ying even more wary than ever about the expedition. If there was a place he could learn more, it would be at the assignment hall. Slipping into one of the many lines, Wu Ying let his gaze roam over his fellow cultivators.
As always, the assignment hall buzzed with outer and inner sect members gossiping in lines, waiting for their turn. In one corner, chairs and standing tables allowed cultivators who had completed their business to socialize out of the way. In the opposite corner of the hall, a smaller number of desks and attendants dealt with the sect members who had completed their assignments.