It was a calm morning like every other morning in Li country. The sun was shining, illuminating the slowly falling autumn leaves, giving the morning a bright and beautiful specter of colours. The birds sang, clearly enjoying the serenity of it all. Their joy was shortlived however, as a fierce bellow shattered the peace of the growing day.
"Move it, you lazy runts!! I am not here to watch you sulk and snipper like the little bastards you are! You are standing in front of me to become cultivators! I will take no excuses, whoever is late by this time tomorrow, will be given twenty lashes! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
"Yes teacher!" Came a reply in unison. It came from a bunch of drowsy youths standing in a square. They all seemed to be from ten to fifteen years of age, there were nearly as many girls as there were boys.
The man they replied to, was a rather intimidating middle aged man in grey loose fitting robes. He was tall and scrawny, with semi-long hair, gathered into a bun atop his head. His face rather rough and thin, with a pointed nose. Upon his chin was a rather scruffy black beard, which only served to increase his image of a grumpy man in the middle of his life, stuck training youths.
This place was the Ling clan, the ruling family of Li country. They were the strongest clan in the country, not because of their long history as rulers, but because they were strong. The Ling clan was a clan of martial cultivators. Its rule had stood strong for nearly a thousand years. That did not keep them from working their younger generation to the bone however.
*Bang!* "Ah! Damn it that hurts! Ling Chu! You bastard! Why did you use the Flowing Dragon Palm with full force!? This is supposed to be a practice session!"
It was a rather short, but stubby fellow, who was now rolling around on the ground. Clearly in immense pain. In front of him stood a handsome youth, somewhere in the late teens. He had an arrogant expression on his face, as he looked down on the fatty in disdain.
"You should know better than to spar against me fatty Mo. I won't hold back next time. After all, what qualifications does a fatty like you have to spar against someone like me? At the 7th leve of body refinement? You should learn your lesson by now... Become a rich fat merchant like your father, and leave the martial arts to the experts." With this said, he flashed an evil grin at the fatty, before turning around to leave.
As he passed the instructor he nodded respectfully, before making his way out of the practice square. The instructor pretended like he never saw anything as he nodded smilingly at Ling Chu as he passed by, before beginning to bellow at his students again.
Soon it was passed mid day. By now, the square was covered in blood, sweat and tears. Every pupil there were panting heavily. The instructor looked at them with satisfaction, before bellowing at them once more.
"Alright, clear out. Well done today, fatty Mo why don't you stay behind for today hmm? You can use that fat body of yours to clean all the blood and sweat of my square together with Ling Feng. You could use it anyhow."
While everyone else sighed with relief and sniggered at the poor fatty, fatty Mo could not help himself as he yelled out in disbelief at the instructor.
"What?! You want me to help that cripple? How is that fair!? He is but a mortal, while we are cultivators! You want to put me together with dregs like him!?" Clearly, the fatty was in disbelief at this thought. Nobody could fault him for it. Cleaning the square was usually left to the crippled mortal of their clan.
While the other students nodded their heads in accent, the instructor turned red faced with anger.
"Watch your mouth fatty Mo! You lot as well! You think this place is cleaned by itself?! Ling Feng volentered for such a duty! Yet you lot actually have the face to blame him for his situation!? Disgraceful! To think that you lot are actually youngsters from my Ling clan! What do you think would happen if he one day refused to clean it!? The task would fall upon the shoulders of you ungrateful lot!" As spittle flew from the raging instructor, the students shrinked back.
Obviously, this was a way of looking at it, that they had never considered. The 23 year old youth Ling Feng, had been a cripple all of his life. The clan decided to take care of him, after his parents passed away when he was ten. He was a quiet youth, who prefered solitude. Yet he did chores for the clan, like cleaning the martial practice square every day, to earn his meals and to earn his keep.
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The seniors of the clan were all rather fond of Ling Feng, but that was all because of his politeness, piety, his respect for his seniors and for his efforts for the clan. Yet nobody ever got closer to him than this. It was due to the simple fact that he was a cripple with no future prospects.
If not for this, he would long ago have been adopted by one of the main branches of the family. He was very handsome. His face was sharp, yet soft like carved jade. With bright green eyes like the colour of fresh spring grass, that would draw in the soul. His brows were two swords, straight and perfect, and to top it all off, he had shiny waistlong hair.
His body was on the slimmer side, but not to the point that he looked starved. If described in one word, he looked like a scholar or entertainer. With long slender fingers which did not at all look like that of a youth that had seen his fair share of hard work in life.
As Ling Feng was mentioned, some of the girls in the square began to blush. A cripple he might be, but the young ladies of the Ling clan was clear on who the most handsome young man in their clan was. It did not just go to the point of superficial beauty however, Ling Feng had a beautiful mind.
Every afternoon he would spend his time writing poetry, some of it so stirring that many girls would remember every word it contained for the rest of their lives. His talent in the arts of poetry was discovered at an early age, as he was clearing leaves in one of the outer disciple courtyards. He began to speak aloud of the beauty that fades in autumn, to be hidden under a layer of snow. Soon to be awakened in the autumn, after its long rest.
As coincidence would have it, the keeper of the library was walking nearby. The man was deep in thought about how to solve a troublesome matter between himself and his wife. It was then that he heard Ling Feng dictating a poem describing the fading beauty of autumn. He was so enthralled by what he heard, that he emidiatly brought Ling Feng to the library to teach him how to write. Soon enough, Ling Fengs talent in poetry began to bloom.
The matter of the main librarian was easily resolved with the help of Ling Fengs beautiful words. In fact the man, Ling Hu he was called, had never seen his wife so pleased. In the end he could only beg Ling Feng to teach him several more poems to help him manage his wife.
In return for his help, Ling Feng was granted acess to the library as he wished. From that day onward, Ling Feng spent the majority of his time in the library gardens, reading and writing. On his 17th birthday, he got a flute in gift from the librarian. As for the reason for this gift, it was not as one would expect, the pleasing of his wife. It was instead the increase in the mans number of wifes. The poems of Ling Feng were clearly works of art, enough to woe most women.
Ling Feng's talent in music was then discovered. Soon many people came to the library gardens just to look at the solitary figure sitting in the pavilion, playing melancholy tunes. Truth be told, Ling Feng had long become the most skilled musician in the clan, in fact the most skilled in all the capital. His fame was such that he was invited to perform at sermonies, weddings and even funerals.
Thus it was a rather ordinary occurance to see the young females of the clan blush at the mere mention of Ling Feng. In fact he would have been the public enemy of every male in the country, had it not been for the simple fact, he was a cripple. There was no chance of any cultivator marrying him. There were no future prospects in a man with no cultivation to these families of high standing.
As it was, the young ladies of Ling Country could only sigh. While the males of the clan uttered words like 'as it should be, being that handsome and talented in arts of the heart, he can be nothing but a cripple! Ah how heaven has eyes!'.
And so it was, that while the others left the square. Fatty Mo could only remain there in dejection. Soon he could hear the soft 'pat pat pat' of light feets, as a young man wearing grey robes entered the square. It was him, Ling Feng.