1:
Xiao Feng awoke with bleary eyes.
It took him a moment to register that he was lying down, another to determine that it was soft and comfortable and a third to conclude that he was nestled on a bed.
Every inch of his body hurt, from his arms and legs to his mouth and ears.
Which was why, he supposed, he was bound in medicinal bandages from head to toe, leaving only his nose and eyes uncovered.
Xiao Feng wanted to scream out for help, to call another and inform them of the terrible mistake that had just occurred.
‘A cultivator does not lose composure in public,’ A voice rattled the insides of his skull, obnoxiously loud and forcefully dominant in tone.
I’m not a cultivator, damn you! He protested within the confines of his mind. Like I’ve been trying to explain to you for the past god-forsaken hour, I’m a normal college kid from a… well, a world that is not this one. A student, a scholar, whatever term you prefer— look man, just let me be, alright. I’m not cut out for this flying swords and fighting demons business.
‘You are in control of my body. I am but a shard of my foundation soul, latched onto yours in a desperate attempt to conserve what remained of myself. I can no longer control my body, thus you must become Xiao Feng,’ The voice explained.
Well then, mighty cultivator. Explain to me how— and why I’m in your body. The last thing I remember is leaving my dorm room to grab a cup of overpriced chai because I ran out of tea leaves….oh.
Perhaps unaccustomed to his silence, Xiao Feng decided to ask out of concern, ‘Did you remember something?’
A minute passed by without response.
Finally, he answered, I was crossing the road. Admittedly, I wasn’t all there. College is stressful, you know? I had an exam day after and it was a subject I’m particularly bad at, so I hadn’t been sleeping too well. Now, you’re probably curious why I went out to get chai when I was dead tired, but you’ve gotta understand man— it’s my Nectar, drink of the gods. I can’t function without it.
Flummoxed by the answer, Xiao Feng asked, ‘Is that knowledge supposed to be important?’
Well, the important bit comes after. See man, I might not have been paying complete attention while I was crossing the road. And the last things I remember? A loud, blaring horn, the screech of heavy tires and a loud horn screaming in my ears…. Damn, the evidence really is stacked against me, eh?
‘What does that mean?’ Xiao Feng asked, not understanding.
It means I died, Xiao Feng. You did too, maybe at the same time? Anyway, some voodoo shit happened and now I’m here, in your body. Dead, but not quite.
‘Your soul possesses the strength of a Second Layer, Foundation Establishment cultivator. Whatever you may be, dead is not one of those things,’ Xiao Feng explained. ‘Oh and before you try to tell the sect that you are not Xiao Feng again, consider that they will brand you a demon and torture your mind, body and soul until you reveal secrets that you do not possess’.
Torture? Jeez man, that’s a bit uncalled for, isn’t it, He asked, his question a more rhetorical one.
He had seen, no, forced to sit through the entirety of Xiao Feng’s memories even before he understood what was happening. He had been a regular American before however long the coma he’d been in had lasted, a broke college student with six figure debt to his name and a major that would make repaying it an uphill task. Oh, with a penchant for taking care of stray kittens and basically functioning on Chai.
Not the heretical stuff like Chai Tea Latte, mind you. Which basically translated to Tea-Tea Latte, making about as much sense as him being another world after crossing the road without paying as much attention as he should have.
No, he was talking about the real deal, from the Masala Tea that sent an electrifying kick to the brain to the sophisticated flavour of the oft pricey darjeeling tea that left a pleasant, floral aftertaste. Ironically enough, he hated green tea and found matcha tea boring at best.
And the same held true for Xiao Feng, who knew more about him than he was honestly comfortable with.
‘No, it is not. You would basically be admitting to possessing me, a hero of the Frontier Sect and destroying most of my soul in the process. We do not take kindly to demons possessing our cultivators, you see? And one capable of such a feat is a danger to our very existence on the frontier.’
But I’m not a demon, He replied after a few moments spent contemplating.
‘You are not, but it took me long enough to wrap my head around the fact that you come from another world. Good luck trying to explain it to another.’
Wait, wait, wait a moment. Why can you understand what I’m saying, to begin with? He asked, not having realised the language barrier should have made communicating impossible.
‘I told you already. Most of my soul was destroyed in the battle for the Zheyan Pass. The fragment that remained latched onto your soul for sustenance. Even as we speak, your soul is slowly consuming what remains of mine and our memories and emotions have already intermingled. Soon, you will consume all of me.’
Silence stretched on for minutes as he took in that information.
Is there any way to stop it? He asked, his thoughts a mess as he considered the true nature of the phenomenon that was transpiring.
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Boisterous laughter filled his mind.
‘I would tell you not to worry, for my soul is too damaged to seek dominion over yours. However, that is not your concern, is it? You wish to ask if there is a way to save me. Would you still be asking that question if it implied the reverse would need to take place?’ Xiao Feng asked, his tone sounding greatly amused within the confines of his mind.
I didn’t ask for any of this, He replied, unsure how else to respond.
‘Do you remember how I, Xiao Feng, died?’
I do, He replied after a pause, as memories that did not belong to him flooded his mind. Chaos surrounded him. The acrid scent of blood and ember filled the air. The cacophony of screams punctuating the air would have left him paralyzed by fear, but Xiao Feng on the other hand, moved.
He moved with an unnatural swiftness, empowered by the Wind Qi he was cycling throughout his body. He was merely a Foundation Establishment Cultivator in a battlefield where Core Formation and Nascent Soul cultivators existed, yet he strode forward unfettered.
His scimitar shot forward with a lacerating wind edge, bisecting one demonic path cultivator after the next that dared challenge him in combat. The Demons that slyly tried to flank him fell prey to the dagger he concealed along the length of his forearm.
He wasn’t sure if Xiao Feng was the good guy he claimed to be as he saw the man fight like, devastating the enemies rank in his wake. Even cultivators two or three layers higher than him in the Foundation Establishment stage fell prey to his vicious charge deep into enemy ranks, unaccompanied by any of his fellow sect members.
It was not loyalty to the sect that directed Xiao Feng’s charge. It was hatred for the Demonic Path Cultivators. They had taken from him that which mattered to him most. For that, they would pay.
They would die.
For years he had been waiting for the Frontier Sect to carry out the task they had been founded for. For years he had been waiting for the Demonic Path to invade the lands they were sworn to protect, so he could finally wet his blade with the blood of those that had robbed him of everything.
Xiao Feng knew where that path led.
So he was not surprised when retribution came, after he slayed a man that still possessed youthful exuberance, his impressive cultivation already at the fifth layer, foundation establishment stage.
An arrow devoid of sound pierced his back. It had come without warning, all his detection methods and even raw instincts failing him. The Sound Qi contained within the arrow erupted outwards, shattering his soul as quickly as Xiao Feng had killed the cultivators that had stood in his way.
There was no time for contemplation, no time for goodbyes or poetically waxing last words… only silence.
‘It is nothing short of a miracle that I am still here, that I still exist. My, Xiao Feng’s story ended in the battle for Zheyan Pass. There is no means or methods that can heal my soul besides demonic ones and that is the evil I have dedicated my life to fighting. I, Xiao Feng, do not regret the way I lived my life and neither shall I try to cheat death with what little remains of me.’
I….see, He acknowledged with a bitter expression. Why do you want me to live like Xiao Feng, then? You know I can’t fight, right? And I sure as hell can’t fight like you. I’ll just be a shitty copy that gets other people on my side killed.
‘I don’t intend for you to follow my path. But I had to warn you, lest you get yourself killed shortly after waking up. Try to act like me, if only for a little while. Now sleep, your wounds are not yet healed.’
My wounds? No I’m fi…ne..
Before he could protest any further, he felt slumber take hold of him— not noticing the warning in Xiao Feng’s words until the very end.
----------------------------------------
When he awoke again, Xiao Feng was gone.
No, that wasn’t right.
He had become Xiao Feng. He had to, if he wanted to survive in the Frontier Sect. And it was true, in a way.
A part of Xiao Feng lived on through him, even now.
Another thing that was gone was the pain.
He still felt weak, but he was frail no longer.
Mustering the strength in his arms, he forced himself to get back up to a seating position.
“Master!” A startled voice sounded out in his ears. “Xiao Feng is awake!” The declared, her tone carrying a trace of awe if he was reading the unfamiliar language right.
That’s right. I’m Xiao Feng now, I need to remember that, He thought, reminding himself.
Slowly but surely, he opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw in his swimming vision was a blurry figure clad in light purple robes. He fought his instincts to close his eyes at the influx of light flooding his vision, allowing a few moments to pass as his vision cleared.
He saw a young woman with smooth black hair tied back into a ceremonial bun, a purple short-sleeved hanfu that seemed to prefer practicality over style. Her stunning silver eyes gazed into his own with concern, though there seemed to be no attachment within them.
A second later the eye contact they shared was shattered, as another figure stepped in between them.
His tall, imposing presence forced his— no, forced Xiao Feng’s gaze towards his visage, taking in his steely expression, chiselled jawline and the unflattering, jagged scar that stretched from below his right eye down to his chin. The man had lived for over a century, yet in his eyes he appeared not to be a day over thirty, with his straight silver hair cut short,
He, Xiao Feng, knew this man.
“Elder Haoyun,” He spoke out loud, his voice a dry rasp.
“Xiao Feng,” The man, Elder Haoyun Liu of the Frontier Sect, a veritable middle-stage Nascent Soul Cultivator who was entire stages above him, acknowledged.
He moved, his motions a blur. Before he had even recognized it, the man was supporting him, his gentle palm making sure that he would not fall backwards.
“The healers told me you would require months yet before you regained consciousness. And even then, there was no guarantee. How do you feel?” He asked and Xiao Feng could tell— the concern in the man’s voice was genuine.
“I…,” Xiao Feng trailed off, his thoughts veering towards places it could not be allowed to go as he remembered that he was very much not Xiao Feng and the real Xiao Feng had already passed away. “I think I am fine.”
Enthusiastic whispers and awed gasps sounded out behind the Elder, but Xiao Feng’s attention was too focused on the man before him to pay them anything beyond the slightest flicker of attention.
He watched but did not resist as the elder placed a firm palm on his chest, his expression focused as he closed his eyes.
A few moments later, he opened them. There was surprise reflected in his gaze, but Xiao Feng could sense no alarm.
“Your soul has….,” Elder Haoyun trailed off, his lower lip quivering from what seemed like disbelief. “... completely recovered.”
Even the observing crowd of cultivators fell silent at that revelation.
“When we found you, it was uncertain if you would survive. The final cultivator you killed was the son of an Early-Stage Nascent Soul Cultivator and his retaliation was as swift as it was unexpected. The Healer that first examined you administered a concoction of the Lingxi root, however he believed that the chances of you recovering were less than a single percent. Xiao Feng, do you truly remember who I am?” Elder Haoyun asked, his expression tense as he seemed to want to gaze into the depths of his soul.
“You are the Elder,” Xiao Feng rasped, requiring a moment to catch his breath. “Responsible for the Inner Sect. I am Xiao Feng, a Foundation Establishment cultivator of the second layer. It is the healing hall where I currently am, is it not?” He rhetorically asked, his tone calm.
“It’s a miracle,” A distinctly feminine voice whispered under her breath from afar, likely one of the unseen spectators he had heard before.
“Xiao Feng, do you wish to know what became of the Nascent Soul that attacked you?” Elder Haoyun asked him, his tone sombre.
“Yes,” He answered reflexively. It was not a question of want for him, but need instead. He needed to know what the result of Xiao Feng’s charge deep into the enemy’s ranks was, if only to honour his unexpected benefactor— and his memories that lived within and through him.
“That brief moment of distraction you forced the Nascent Soul into, as he was enraged by the death of his son, allowed Elder Zheng to slay him in battle. He has already declared publicly that if it were not for you offering him that distraction, it was more than likely that the conclusion would have been the opposite. You, Xiao Feng, were the primary reason behind a Demonic Path Nascent Soul’s death,” Elder Haoyun declared with aplomb, shocking Xiao Feng as he called upon the memories he had received and understood the staggering importance of the achievement.
“Hero of the Zheyan Pass!” One cultivator boisterously declared from near the back of the room.
Another call followed, repeating the same phrase.
Soon, a chant had begun, comprising at least ten different voices.
“Silence!” Elder Haoyun barked out the command, his right hand raised in the air signalling for the cultivators to halt.
His order was obeyed without resistance and silence filled the Healing Hall.
“Xiao Feng, their words are not incorrect. The honourable service you have rendered to our Frontier Sect is not something that can be measured in rewards of treasure and techniques alone. Tell me what you desire as a reward and for the face you have earned for me, I will make sure to obtain it for you. Elder Zheng too, owes you a great debt— he will make sure you get your heart’s desire”.
“Are you sure, Elder Haoyun?” Xiao Feng asked, his tone sounding audibly hesitant.
“As long as it is with mine and Elder Zheng’s ability to grant,” Elder Haoyun confirmed.
“Very well, Elder Haoyun. Then I would like to officially….,”
“....Quit.”