The Old Woman refused to carry me towards our destination. Occasionally, to punctuate each period of travel, she would poke me in the nape of my neck, sending me into the deepest recesses of agony, and demand that we spar.
I knew she was holding back, the telltale sign of apathy painting her face, but she did not spare me the pain of a beating or overwhelming humiliation.
With each new bout, I did not get any closer to even touching the hem of her shirt. She danced out of the way with minimal movement, like a dancer that dabbled in battle. The times that she made to attack me, I did my best to dodge away, ignoring the pain of any misstep or inefficient use of movement.
They say that pain was the best teacher, but there was no one else that embodied that saying like my ‘mentor’. It would have been so much easier if she was meaner, or less pleasant, but outside of training, she was as warm and coddling as a grandmother, providing me with an overwhelming amount of good, filling food for me to eat, better-tasting than anything the prison could ever have offered us.
I remained obedient even as the training repulsed me. If I was to survive in the ‘Wulin’ as she referred to it, I needed all the power I could get, and whatever it was that prompted a monster like her to hide out in a prison, I needed to be prepared for that, too.
She wanted me to become a ‘hero’. It was laughable.
One night, in front of the bonfire, I asked her a question. “If you’re so strong, why need me to save the world? I mean, if there’s anything that you need me to do, couldn’t you do it, much better?”
She was still smiling. “I want you to become stronger than me, young one. It may not take a week, a month or even a single year, but I do wish for you to outstrip me, eventually, and when that happens, you will be ready.”
I almost did not believe in her. “You… want me to be stronger than you? Have you seen what you can do? You killed five people in an instant, with nothing but pebbles. Then you brought me to the top of the watch tower in a single, heroic leap, and then you sprinted over nothing but cloud.”
She was still smiling as knowingly as ever. “And like I said, your faux-mentor will take you to such heights in good time.”
I looked at her dubiously, my disbelief painted clearly on my face. Still, that knowing smile didn’t waver. It was one of the things I had gotten used to with her; knowing that in this relationship, I was the more ignorant person. It rankled me, too, having to swallow my pride ever so often, but such was my life.
“Now,” she said. “Can you read?”
I snorted. “Why would I need that? Are you going to give me books, now?”
Finally, her smile fell. “Oh my… well, that won’t do at all,” taking a stick from the ground, she traced patterns on the floor. “Like the sages say: the best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The second best time is now. We will begin now,” she pointed at the symbol. “Can you tell me what this is?”
It was a simple ideogram: four strokes in total, resembling three pillars, with the middle pillar taller than the other two on each side, planted on a horizontal line which could be referencing the flat plane of the Earth.
“Mountain,” I said, recognizing the symbol from various road signs around my village.
“Good,” she smiled. “Now; do concentrate, because I will not be lax with you, even as we are not learning Martial Arts.”
Great. Another reason to be in constant pain. “What if I say no?”
“Will you say no?” She challenged. She was no longer just smiling.
I considered it, but at the end of the day, I couldn’t pass up on her offer. Reading was a valuable skill that I had never picked up, with no one to teach me. While I could make do on spoken word alone, there was something exhilarating about being tangibly smarter than someone else, to be able to read.
Finally, I just nodded. “This better not be a waste of time.”
000
We arrived in the village in short order. The first thing we did was visit the market district, buying ourselves new clothes. It was lucky that none of the villagers recognized our clothes for what they were, and for some reason, the Old Woman wasn’t exactly poor.
My new clothes were infinitely more comfortable; a sleeveless black shirt with red accents, and black pants tied with a red belt, fit for a martial artist. As for shoes, she got me a functional pair of black, closed shoes.
The Old Woman switched to voluminous robes that were cheap but reliable, much more comfortable looking than our former prison uniforms. She always was more comfortable in form obscuring clothing.
I entered the cell with a bundle of new blankets. The Old Woman had been sneezing too much, lately. It always did feel like she was one cold night away from keeling over, dead. I would never admit it, but the idea did horrify me.
It took me no small amount of effort to blackmail and beat my way through the other prison gangsters, but blood washed off easily from my knuckles, and the guards couldn’t be assed to look my way.
The sheer joy radiating from the woman’s face had been worth the subsequent ambush, and the scrapes I suffered as a result of putting six gangsters in the dust. I had come close to suffering a head-injury, even. I was lucky to be alive.
The Old Woman led us to an inn. I was almost asleep on my feet, barely able to keep awake as I followed her in and waited for her to check out a room that we would be sharing. When I finally got to the bed, I fell ontop of it, sent instantly to the land of dreams the moment I made contact with the infinitely soft material.
I had never slept so well in all of my life.
000
I woke up to the Old Woman going through some Martial Arts movements slowly, gliding in and out of an unseen trance, following a set choreography which I had no knowledge of. While much more ostentatious than punches and kicks, I could detect function from even the most extraneous movements. They were movements adapted from experience in the heat of battle.
Quietly, I watched her go, committing the movements to memory, all the way until it ended. She turned to me and gave me a smile. “You’re awake. I have decided to suspend your training until you are literate to a degree which I deem acceptable.”
I grumbled under my breath. Out of everything she was teaching me, reading was the most boring of them all. There was no instant benefit to it, only rote memorization of thousands of squiggly lines which had to come together in a certain configuration in order to be just considered legible, not to mention the idea of calligraphy, which was decorating the symbols until they became borderline illegible.
She taught me on a chalkboard, bringing in food occasionally while demanding that I learn a set of symbols, then a given excerpt, which I then had to read out for her. Afterwards, she would dictate words, which I was to write down and present for her.
It was a tough going at first. A single poke to the shoulder caused intolerable pain which I just had to tolerate, and she was not shy with dealing punishment where she deemed punishment was due.
Several days passed in this vein. Several.
Oh, how I longed for Martial Arts training alone.
000
The Old Woman did not have a shortage for coin, it seemed. With every day that passed, she would pay the proprietor more money to keep our rooms rented, while she had me spend every waking hour of the day reading and writing, isolating me in this tiny room.
Finally, I had enough. In two weeks, I had done nothing but basics, and then a completely new set of irrelevant skills. I hadn’t come any closer to unearthing the State of Wu. If I could only go back to that sensation, I would probably be utterly unbeatable, but that bitch of a woman was refusing to teach me.
Rather, she was busy teaching me things which I didn’t even want to learn.
In the dead of night, I escaped from the window into the streets of the nameless village and ambled about, expecting inspiration to strike.
Inspiration came in the form of a group of drunk workers coming out of a tavern, laughing uproariously. I walked into their group, deliberately bumping into the larger man. Before I could get very far, he held me by my arm. “Are you even listening to me? I said; watch where you’re going.”
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I pulled my arm from his grip with ease and chortled. “I would if you were at all noticeable.”
The others just laughed at the expense of the man I had just insulted. He turned to me, an easy smile on his face. “You’re too beautiful to stay mad at, darling. How about it, wanna have a drink with me?”
I scoffed, disgusted by the idea. “Fuck off.”
Now, the man did look offended. “Hey, you can’t just-“ He made to grab my arm. With my other arm, I directed a downward strike at it, breaking it with barely an ounce of effort.
This was it! This was true proof that she was now a Martial Warrior!
Now, to master the State of Wu. If it was awakened through battle the last time, then logically, if I were to use my new skills in battle, would it not come to me easier?
They moved like they were suspended inside thick fluid, moving glacially compared to my own crisp self. It was simplicity itself to disable the doddering men, but the clarity of the Wu State did not follow.
No, it felt more like I was completing a trivial task. A punch to their chests, a kick to their legs, broken bones everywhere. It felt like minutes to me, but that couldn’t be true.
When the last man fell, I was still no closer to unearthing the State of Wu. I left the scene quickly, slipping in through an alleyway and then into a more busy street, slipping into a crowd. Though they had seen my face, no one would believe their words, that a woman had beaten seven men to submission.
I was safe.
In the crowd, I bumped into a woman. “Watch i-“ I swallowed my words, seeing the middle-aged face of my ‘mentor’. She didn’t look angry; I had never really seen her look angry before, but the neutral expression on her face could definitely be construed as such.
“I thought I told you, faux-disciple, that your Martial Arts training would be suspended until your literacy reaches an acceptable degree.”
I groaned, and pointed to a shop sign. “Old Yue’s Apothecary,” then to another. “Little Tiger’s Noodle Bar,” and then another. “Yun-Yun’s Flower Store. See?” I sighed. “I can read, now, and it’s boring. I want to learn the State of Wu!”
Her expression did not change. “You suffer immeasurable pain, enough to have most men twice your age twist and turn with nightmares, completely unbothered in the long term, but to simply sit down and learn your symbols proves too much for your daft mind?”
“Don’t call me daft,” I stopped myself from shoving her forwards. “It’s not my fucking fault that nobody ever bothered to teach me my symbols!”
“Then why not sit down and learn some more?” She asked. “What is it that you truly want for your life? Fighting and killing all those who oppose you? Tell me, Kang Yilan; once you save the world, what will you do with your life? Will you be the sword that, once the war is over, is sheathed, never to be drawn again, or will you be the hammer, that when the war is over, you will be used to rebuild in the world’s ashes?”
I growled. “I don’t know anything about that! You knew who I was when you picked me. I’m a demon in human clothing. Point me to an enemy, and I will fight, so teach me the State of Wu so I can get to the next level.”
“Where does this impatience come from?” She asked. “Did I not tell you that I would be teaching you for five years?”
I was too riled up to even think. “You told me you would be teaching me Martial Arts, so why are you not teaching me Martial Arts.”
“What is a sword without a handle?” She asked, her tone brokering no nonsense.
“This isn’t time for your-“
“What. Is a sword without a handle?”
“Pretty useless, I guess,” I said.
“Do you want to be useless?” She asked.
I looked down on the ground. “…No,” I finally responded.
“Good. Then return to your room,” she said, and I despaired. “Tomorrow, I have something… special prepared for you,” I winced at that. She smiled at my reaction. “Oh, no, nothing bad. I’m sure you will enjoy it. However, as a punishment for your little foray,” her neutral expression returned. “You will memorize one-hundred symbols before you go to bed.”
I groaned.
000
It took me a while, but all-encompassing agony as well as sleep-deprivation was a good motivator. I completed my task, ate the supper she provided, and went to bed.
I woke up with a start. The Old Woman had thrown clothes on my face; cotton robes, all pink and blue, with flowery patterns on them. “Uh… tired,” I groaned.
“None of that, now,” she smiled. “Do you know what today is?”
“Monday,” I guessed, still out of it.
“Yes,” she conceded. I was right. A pleasant surprise. “But that is not the reason for festivities; it is this year’s Harvest Festival, and I shall treat my darling faux-disciple to something nice, to pay her back for her diligence.”
“Oh, gee,” I said, unexcitedly. “So, what, you’ll give me a bowl of sweet and sour pork?”
“Among other things,” she said as I sat up to view the robes with mild disgust. “Dress up! The festivities await!”
I groaned, dressed down and got changed.
The Old Woman pulled me by my hand through the crowds of laughing villagers, all having a great time. I did my best to look away from their faces, feeling nothing but bitterness well up as they reminded me of my own village. How they would refuse to give me food, how the butcher would only give me the nastiest pieces of meat, and how I had to resort to stealing from the fields in the harvest just to prevent myself from starving.
The Old Woman looked back at me with mild concern. “Bad memories?” She asked.
“None of your damned business,” I muttered, following dutifully. She sighed and turned ahead, squeezing my hand just a little harder.
Finally, we arrived before a store called the ‘Flowery Beautician’. “It’s a great place,” she said. “A little rustic, but the herbs in the surrounding woods provide great ingredients for clays and hair product!” She looked me up and down. “You could use a little prettying up.”
I wrenched my hand from her grip. “You’re kidding me.”
“What?” She asked, feigning innocence, eyes wide.
“’Prettying up’? It sounds like you’re trying to marry me off or something.”
She smiled flatly. “Just try it out. At worst, you won’t have to try it again, but you never really know how good you might turn out,” she came closer to me, lifting a lock of dark hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “You’re beautiful, Kang Yilan.”
I looked down to my feet, trying to obscure the furious heat on my cheeks. “Beautiful? Me? T-t-that doesn’t make any sense.”
She groaned, pulling me gently over. “Just try it out, alright?”
We entered the establishment. The Old Woman handed the proprietor a bag, presumably filled with coins, and the attendants had us escorted to a more opulent quarter. It felt like I was intruding, truth be told. I had never been on the inside of a beautician’s spa, and I never really thought that I would have a reason to. After all, I didn’t have to be told one more time that I was undesirable.
After all, wasn’t ‘beauty’ just another word for ‘desirable’? Why would anyone even desire me?
Thus, it began.
Our treatment began with twenty or so minutes at a communal bath, with me and my ‘mentor’ alone. The heat of the water, as well as the fragrant aromas threatened to almost send me to an eternal sleep.
When the temperature dipped just a little, our attendants took us and laid us on a table, stomach first before slowly kneading away at our backs.
It was… surprisingly relaxing.
Later, they began to dab cloths on our faces, containing a pale powder which they caked on our skin. Then, they began to comb my hair.
There was a lot of combing to do. My hair reached the small of my back. I never really had anyone to cut it, and…
Well, I didn’t want it cut, either. The attendants respected that, instead combing it, and then braiding it to make it more manageable, shortening the length to around half.
Finally, when it was all over, and we dressed up once more, they gave us large copper mirrors to look at ourselves.
I was frozen, stock still as I looked at the face of a woman (a woman!) that was not me. Sharp chin, jade-white skin, reddened lips and lustrous black hair, nothing like the messy, dry jumble that it once was.
They did this by… coloring my skin and straightening my hair?
“You like it?” The Old Woman asked, hugging me with one arm. She was quite the looker herself, but…
I was better looking.
“It’s…” I didn’t have a lot of words for this, actually. “I mean…” Finally, once my confusion cleared, it gave way to annoyance. “So what?”
She looked at me flatly. “One day, you will come to appreciate a good thing when you see it. Come, now. Your sweet and sour pork is waiting.”
Once the Old Woman turned to leave, I let myself smile just barely.
000
The day was fun. The Old Woman didn’t skimp on feeding me at all, taking me through several different stalls of delicacies, not to mention the promised sweet and sour pork.
It tasted… much better than I expected.
“Get away from my stall, you wretched urchin,” the stall chef growled at me. “You ain’t got money, you ain’t getting food.”
The performances were entertaining as well. Contortionists came to show off their flexibility, while men and women came dressed like fantastic creatures, and did battle in front of all of us, leaping and hopping about.
Their aping of combat did not get past me now. There was no economy of motion; only showiness and flashy moves that would never work in a real battle. When the free for all ended, the last person to stand upright was dressed in voluminous robes adorned with dragons, a white painted face and a golden crown on his long hair.
“Oh, look,” my ‘mentor’ said excitcedly. “Imperial propaganda! The Emperor only wishes he could become a Martial Warrior, but he’s got the next best thing, a host of peak experts at his beck and call, as well as the endorsement of the Wulin’s greatest persons.”
I nodded. That made sense. After all, it wouldn’t make sense for an Emperor without Martial Warriors to still exist if any random Martial Warrior could do quick work of the man’s guards.
Still, couldn’t he just learn from his ‘peak experts’? “Why can’t he learn Martial Arts?”
“There’s an embargo on teaching the Imperial Clan, or any Noble house at that,” she elaborated. “The Wulin abides by it, and the Jianghu views it as an acceptable compromise.”
The onlookers gave way for a string of men wearing a large dragon puppet, pulling it along as it zigzagged around in dizzying patterns, above and beneath itself in a stunning display of acrobatics. “What’s the difference?” I asked.
“What?”
“The Wulin and the Jianghu. They’re all just Martial Warriors, but what’s really the difference?”
“The Wulin uphold honor, but the Jianghu values strength above all. Naturally, the Jianghu tends to attract the more unsavory types, but that does not absolve the Wulin of their sins. Like the Tai Chi symbol, there is black in white, and white in black. Evil exists everywhere, and so does goodness”
Finally, a group of people came out with crates of fireworks, which they lit with some flint. The fireworks were great from the view I was getting. The night sky lit up with various lights as the townspeople celebrated their harvest. It had been a good year, apparently.
I turned to the Old Woman, looking up at the fireworks in undisguised glee. “Where do… you stand in the Wulin?”
She smiled as though she were entertaining me. “Where do you think?”
Another half-answer. I didn’t bother pursue the thread, and decided to let it go. She couldn’t possibly be that high up.
When the fireworks abated, we returned to our room, and I fell on my bed, contemplating the happenings of the day.
Unambiguously, it was a pleasant day.
“So,” the Old Woman said as she put on a more comfortable set of robes. I had done the same, now tired of wearing all the different layers. “I trust that you will take to your studies without much difficulty?”
“Fine,” I said. “Besides, it’s not like I miss being tortured every day.”
“That’s all I can ask for.” With that, she blew out the candle, and we went to sleep.