C***7 The Training Begins

“Is there no justice in this god forsaken heathens den?” Wu Jia pleaded at her husband.

“. . .”

Of course there is justice, the justice of strength, dictated by the mighty and enforced with fear and fist.

Shen Ling perched on the landing at the top of the boxstairs, eavesdropping on her parents argument in the common room below.

Wu Jia’s voice was cold and calculated as she asked without blinking, “Should we run?”

“Run from what?” interrupted Shen Ling, who could no longer sit idle. She had been left in the dark about their family’s circumstances, and she was tired of feeling powerless. To have a say in these family matters was only natural. She was an adult, whether or not she was trapped in a tiny body.   

Husband and wife gazed into eachother's eyes in silent commune as their daughter joined them.

Although surrounded by chairs, none were in a mood to sit.

After mute agreement, Shen Shudun took the lead. “The tribe has invited you to participate in the warrior trials.”

“Do I have to?” sputtered prematurely out of Shen Ling’s mouth.

“The letter came from the Zhang Trade Office, but it was signed by the heads of the largest clans in the village,” Shudun explained. “We can’t ignore them.”

“Ling’er is not a warrior. I took her as my disciple this morning. Surely, they will give me face in regard to my own child.”

“You’re too important to the village, wife. The three big clans want a fair shot at recruiting Shen Ling. Obviously, they’ve come to some sort of agreement behind the curtains. If it were any other child with low talent, they could withdraw without a care, but she is a special case, a valued commodity to every clan, your son.”

“What are the warrior trials? Will there be fighting?” Shen Ling had hardened her heart to the prospect of facing danger, but to actively search it out as a combatant, that seemed completely insane. Even more so because any opponent she faced could wield magic powers, or special abilities, or . . . a hundred ideas came to mind as she thought about a thousand different video games and movies from her past. “Will I die?”

“Huh?!” both parents exclaimed.

“No you won’t die.” Shudun rubbed his chin. “Almost no one ever dies. Break a leg, maybe. Lose an arm-Oww! What was that for?” Shen Shudun nursed his scalp, where an awkward bald spot might develop. Shen Ling’s usual pale face became outright ghostly. “Oh right. Well Ling’er, that sort of thing almost never happens unless there’s a big difference in power between the children, or a grudge.”

“The main problem isn’t suffering an injury. Simply by competing in the trials, it is ensured that you will join one of the three political powers.”

“But you’re both part of the ZTO . . .”

“The Zhang Trade Office is not bad, although Ming Hao is a trollop. If it’s them, then they are the best of the worst,” stated Wu Jia.

“So if I can join the ZTO, everything would go back to normal?”

“Pretty much,” answered Shudun, before getting slapped on the back of the head. “Err! What was that for? I didn’t say anything bad!”

An image of Ming Hao’s large chest passed through Wu Jia’s thoughts. But she wasn’t going to admit it. “It’s not that simple. For drafting new warriors, the ZTO does not get first pick this year, nor second pick, but instead, last pick! If the Lao clan does not scoop Ling’er up as its first choice, the Chi clan definitely will do so.” Wu Jia’s iciness melted at the corners of her eyes. “Running might be our only option.”

“There is a second option,” said Shudun with a spark of earthly fire behind his eyes. “Winning!”

“What do you mean?” asked Shen Ling.

Shudun explained quickly. “Ling’er, the first, second and third place at the warrior trials are rewarded, and they are also able to choose the faction they wish to join.” Unexpectedly, his daughter’s eyes didn’t sparkle with excitement at this revelation.

“But I don’t know how to fight. I-I’m afraid!” she confessed.

Shen Shudun looked dejected, but Wu Jia only nodded. “Good,” she declared. “The dao heart’s greatest adversary is fear. To know it, to understand it, to fall in love with fear is a pathway to strength.”

Fall in love with fear? Shen Ling swallowed the dry lump in her throat. Her mother was a terrifying woman!

Even Shudun was somewhat upset. “Ling’er, since it is you who will have to face the trials. It must be you who decides. What shall it be? Fight, or run?”

For two reasons, the choice between fighting or running wasn’t a choice at all. First of all, Shen Ling had promised herself that next time when facing hardship she would stand her ground, no matter what. Secondly, if she couldn’t place during the trials, if she failed again, couldn’t they still choose to run away? Sometimes, she thought her new dad was just too dumb. Perhaps she should ask Wu Jia to hit him in the head a little less often. He really couldn’t afford to lose any more brain cells.

“Mother, Father, you’ve both been too kind to me. To be so filial, I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.” A single glistening tear ran down Shen Ling’s cheek. “Although we have not long known each other, I am in your care.” The cute girl bowed low at her waist. “It might be selfish,” she began to cry in earnest, tears wetting the floor. She pinched closed her weeping, and stared up at her parents with intense resolution, “But I want to Fight!”

Wu Jia wrapped the young girl up, hugging her close. “I’m so proud of you.”

Shen Shudun’s apelike arms surrounded his women. “Me too. Let us all work hard together.”

. . .

And so Shen Ling’s training began in earnest.

In the dark of night, as the moon fell from the sky, but before the sun had yet to peak above the horizon. A small boy, dressed in the common brown leather armour of a warrior, stood in front of a sudsy washbasin, thrusting his arms elbow deep in scolding hot waters. The bags under his eyes told the tale of fatigue, while his scowl showed the tenacity of a wet rag.

What sort of training was this!?!?

Wasn’t this the same dishwashing Shen Ling had been doing for more than a full ten days already? No, because now she wore primitive over-masculine armour that was too wide in the shoulders and loose in the crotch. Since Cai Min had vanished, Shen Ling now had to do all the drying too! It was twice the work with twice the effort!

The only succour was that occasionally Wu Jia would call her over from dish duty and have her taste a sample of the day’s preparations.

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+1 EXP . . . +1 EXP

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Shen Ling

Beginner Level 2 [4%] (+1%)

Parameters

Strength: 8

Agility: 4

Body:  8

Speed: 4

Intelligence: 5

Spirit: 10

Love: 2

Hate: 1 (+1)

Karmic Verdict

Absolute Zero

Dao (Skills)

Dishwashing: Beginner ✭

???

_____________

These stats were too pathetic. “Mother! Someone hates me.”

“Oh, don’t worry much about love and hate. Those are out of your control.”

It made a sort of practical sense, but what could Shen Ling have done to make someone hate her? Was it Cai Min? Although the girl was annoying, she was her only friend.

Putting these grim thoughts aside, the rest of her morning was continuous washing and snacking. “Is this really training?”

“En. Of course. This is your training as my culinary disciple.”

“Culinary disciple? I thought I was learning how to not die?” Shen Ling cheerlessly mumbled with her eyes to the river rock floor.

“Because you are my daughter disciple, are you thinking I would let you slack off?! In the morning you will learn from mother, and in the evening you will train with father.”

Wa? “What about the afternoon?”

Wu Jia raised her eyebrows ever so slightly.

Don’t tell me I have to train then too! What happened to those peaceful innkeeper days with a family to love and a job to do? Wasn’t this the infamous simple life that common people longed for?

In the afternoon, a sweating brute smudged with red mud pushed his way into the Blue Button Inn’s kitchen. His armour had gained a few more scratches, and a deep anger could be felt from his presence.

Shen Ling felt an intimidating burst of fear from the man, as if to cross him would mean death.

Wu Jia broke from her culinary dance, glaring icicles at the filthy barbarian. The pair faced off in a silent battle of killing intent.

Shen Ling could not decide which was the more frightening. The plate in her hands slipped, smashing apart on the floor. For a brief moment, both of those domineering killing intents were directed at her. Her knees weakened near to collapse.

Yet, something in the heavy atmosphere broke with the plate. The killing intent faded away.

The brute waved his arm over the counter and a brown package appeared. “Chow Gan was merciless. It’s only a level two dire rat, but that miserable slaughterer only left us the pelt, tail and bones.”

Although Wu Jia’s face remained emotionless, Shen Ling thought she could hear the sound of grinding teeth. “It will suffice. You did well husband, but if you enter my kitchen again with your muddy boots . . . Hmph!”

Eh? Shen Shudun was cowed instantly! He was too upset after his morning hunt and subsequent visit to the slaughterer. He hadn’t considered his actions at all. “Wife forgive me. My heart was unsteady.”

“Ling’er, leave the mess. Come over here.” Shen Shudun’s apology was completely ignored!

Shen Ling had already fetched a hand broom and was quickly sweeping up her mistake. When her mother called her, she shuffled over into the heart of the kitchen without hesitation.

Wu Jia plucked three herbs from her garden wall, laying them on the counter. “Five leaf clover. Red spring grass. Tundra cactus needle. Only one of these ingredients was used in the dishes you tasted today. Tell me which one.”

Huh?! A test. If she knew there was going to be a test, she would have paid more attention!

“Go ahead,” ordered Master Wu.

Shen Ling carefully observed each ingredient, before tossing samples one after the other into her mouth. Each had a distinct flavour, but none of them reminded her of Mother’s previous dishes. Without another taste, how could she possibly decide?

“Well, Ling’er.”

“Umm . . . red spring grass,” she guessed.

“Hmm, why do you think so?”

“Because . . . I remembered the dishes were coloured red.”

“Very good, Ling’er. You pass.”

“Wa? I am right, it really is spring grass?”

“I tricked you. All three ingredients were in the dishes you ate today, but at your level only two are identifiable, the red spring grass, and the tundra cactus needle. To understand the nature of your first lesson, you must have knowledge of ingredients, and know that food is more than only the taste. Red spring grass brightened the dishes with visual appeal, while the tiny white needles of the tundra cactus brought textural crunch. To identify the red spring grass by colour is already a pass. Now, go to your father.”

Shen Ling breathed out a sigh of relief, walking toward the back exit.

“Oh, and Ling’er.” Shen Ling paused. “Good guess.”

Caught! Shen Ling’s speed hastened in retreat.

. . .

Shen Shudun lead her down the narrow street of the third level. It was the first time since her arrival that Shen Ling had been out. She was never naturally reclusive, but ever since her arrival, a knot of fear of this world had built up in her abdomen. A wariness that was difficult to overcome from inside an Inn, despite the rampant hospitality.

Shen Shudun was extremely nervous, his head swivelling with paranoia. After a few minutes of walking they went down the ramp to the second level, which had to be far enough. He shuffled his son through the usual crowd of villagers, into a crevice between buildings. No one was following.

“Master Shen, what’s wrong?” asked an already apprehensive Shen Ling.

“Master Shen!” he exclaimed. “No, Ling’er, you must call me your most capable Papa. No need to be so formal.” Shudun knelt down beside his short armoured daughter. She really did look like a boy. “What happens next, you must definitely not tell your mother!”

!?!?

“What kind of look is that! You must tell me all about your mother’s training methods. But absolutely you must not tell your mother that you told me.”

What was this? All of the anxiety and suspicion, like being in a spy novel . . . Was her life and death training being used as an excuse for some sort of marital showdown!

“He he he,” mumbled her evil smiling father, as he rubbed his hands together. “Father’s training will definitely surpass mother’s. Our father and son dishwater bond is at a whole nother level.”

Take my training seriously!