They arrived at the training field just as Ren Huang was ordering the outer sect disciples to form up. There were perhaps a hundred gathered, all within a year or two of He Yu’s age. At the far end of the field, He Yu caught sight of Chen Fei. She was chatting with another female disciple who carried herself much like Li Heng did. Probably another noble. Hopefully, he could catch up with her before Elder Wen’s cultivation lessons that afternoon.
Ren Huang’s voice rolled over the training field like thunder. “Pay attention disciples,” he boomed. “This is the only warning you’re going to get. For the next three months, there will be no duels between first-year disciples.” A low murmur passed through the gathered disciples at the news.
“Already two of you have fought and forced me to intervene. I expect that I won’t have to again,” Ren Huang continued. He Yu glanced toward his housemate, who maintained a stony expression and kept his own eyes locked forward. “Any further conflict during the grace period for new disciples will see you expelled from the mountain and banned from the sect. There will be no further warnings. Am I clear?”
The gathered disciples shouted, “Yes, Senior Brother!” and saluted. Mostly in unison. He Yu tried his best to imitate those around him. He took a small measure of solace that he wasn’t the only one who had been caught out.
“This does not mean you are not already in competition.” Folding his arms over his chest, Ren Huang strode among the rows of disciples and continued to speak. “The ban serves two purposes. One, it allows new disciples to acclimate themselves and shore up any weakness in their cultivation. Use this time wisely. Open conflict can prove a benefit or a disaster to those with lower cultivation bases. You have six months from today to reach the Second Realm if you haven’t already. Use this time well. Failure to advance your cultivation will see you expelled from the sect.
“Second, this ban is meant to teach you that not all competition comes in the form of open conflict. Demonstrate your worth to the sect. This physical training class is one area where you will have the opportunity to compete. Never forget, from this moment forward you are all in competition with one another.”
Silence hung over the training arena as Ren Huang finished speaking. This hadn’t been anything that He Yu had wanted to hear. Immediately he could see how this new situation disadvantaged him. He was the least advanced disciple in the outer sect. His weakness meant that his training here with Ren Huang would be all the more challenging. He worried that this would mean that he would only fall further behind.
Of course, it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. The most important thing he’d learned that morning was that Sha Xiang wasn’t going to allow him the luxury of slacking. He’d no doubt that she would be coming for him once the grace period was over. He couldn’t always count on Li Heng to save him, either. He shouldn’t count on Li Heng. For what purpose was he here at the sect, if not to gather his own strength? All he needed to do was reach the Second Realm. Then any weakness he felt now would cease to be of any consequence. Then he could stand up for himself, and prove to everyone that he belonged at the Shrouded Peaks Sect.
That didn’t mean his weakness wouldn’t hinder him in the meantime—a lesson he soon learned from Ren Huang. Training began as soon as the speech on competition ended. Ren Huang barked a command at the gathered disciples, ordering them to run a circuit around the mountain. A formation gate to one side of the plaza led to a trail, and the disciples all moved towards it at his word.
He Yu quickly began to tire. He fell behind the other disciples as soon as they began, and his breath grew more labored with each stride. A slight wheeze appeared shortly after the first bend—only a scant few dozen yards past the start of the trail. His legs burned, blood pounded behind his ears, and blackness crept into the edge of his vision. As the back of the disciple in front of him grew further away, he almost resigned himself to failure.
Then, recalling the crude technique his father had taught him for the tournament, he tapped his dantian. The pool of qi at his spiritual center was far more potent than it had ever been. A result of spending his first night at the sect in cultivation. He couldn’t allow himself to marvel at that. There was a trail to run, and he would need all his strength to keep going, and all his focus to maintain the body enforcement.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He cycled his qi according to the sect cultivation technique, as he had the previous night. Qi thrummed as it flowed along his meridians, and into his limbs. His breath became less ragged, and his legs more steady. The blackness at the edge of his vision faded, and even the encroaching headache retreated. Qi surged through him, revitalized him, and lent him the strength he desperately needed. Until it ran out.
The change was slow at first. The surge of energy lessened by degrees, so slight in the beginning that he failed to notice. As he continued to draw upon his qi, the weakness returned. The first real indication that he was running dry came when he stumbled and his breath hitched, disrupting the technique.
When he tried to reestablish his rhythm, he found his qi sluggish, and that it took far more effort to push what he’d left through his meridians. A moment later, he realized just how far he’d emptied his dantian. What had seemed only moments before like an ocean of qi, was now little more than a pond. A pond that was rapidly running dry.
He stopped the flow and immediately regretted it. Fatigue crashed over him. His limbs turned to lead, and darkness rushed in from the edges of his vision. His lungs burned. His heart thundered. He was certain he was going to die. He pitched forward, and the dirt path rushed up to meet him.
A strong hand caught him by the collar of his uniform. “Stupid,” said Ren Huang, as he hauled He Yu to his feet.
Now he wished he had died. It would be better than the shame of failing the run on the first day. A sound like rushing wind filled the air, and he found himself back in the training square.
“Sit. Cultivate,” Ren Huang said, letting go of He Yu’s collar. He seated himself in the lotus position, and Ren Huang said, “Draw in qi from your surroundings next time. Don’t spend yourself. Use just enough of your own reserves that it only trickles from your dantian.”
He Yu tried to respond, choked, and then coughed. After drawing in a wheezing breath, he managed to force out, “Thank you, Senior Sect Brother.”
“Shut up,” Ren Huang said, but there was no anger or disapproval. “Cultivate and restore yourself.”
He Yu did as he was told. The rich ambient qi of the Shrouded Peaks quickly restored him. Using the White Mountain technique, he sent qi to his aching limbs. The fatigue from the run faded, and he soon restored his qi reserves. Whether that was due to the richness of the environment or his embarrassingly low cultivation base, he wasn’t willing to venture a guess. He already wanted to curl in on himself and die of shame at having failed what seemed like such a simple task.
Since he’d been given no other instructions, he simply continued to cultivate once he’d restored himself. Dimly, he became aware of other disciples returning. They came slowly at first, each accompanied by Ren Huang. Each sat down and cycled just as he’d been instructed to. That made him feel a tiny bit better. Even if he was the first, at least he wasn’t the only one.
“All of you, on your feet.” Ren Huang’s command cracked across the training square like a thunderbolt, wrenching He Yu from his cultivation.
There were about twenty other disciples in the square with him. Given that they wore the standard sect uniforms and looked far less refined than Li Heng, he guessed they were all commoners like himself. As he stood, he glanced towards the trail. A group of disciples was approaching, no doubt those disciples whose physical strength and cultivation were advanced enough to complete the run first. Li Heng was among them, much to He Yu’s chagrin.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. As a noble, Li Heng had probably been fed all sorts of medicinal pills and elixirs, along with actually having been taught real cultivation before arriving at the sect. That would explain the silver shimmer around his fingers while he fought Sha Xiang. He would have to ask Li Heng about that later.
Among those at the front, He Yu was surprised to see Chen Fei as well, along with the girl she’d been talking to earlier. He’d known Chen Fei was already in the Second Realm, but he hadn’t thought her the type to be particularly athletic, given how she’d reacted to their trial.
Although, now that he thought more, she had said she’d grown up in the mountains. She hadn’t shown any signs of fatigue on the way up either. It was more than a little unfair in his eyes. As the two girls passed the formation gate, Chen Fei chattered and her companion occasionally nodded, content to remain on the receiving end of the conversation.
Ren Huang gave the order for the disciples to form up in ranks as before, without giving the new arrivals the chance to restore themselves. As Li Heng took his place beside He Yu, the noble gave him a brief nod. As they practiced their forms, more disciples filtered into the square. Much to He Yu’s satisfaction, Sha Xiang was one of the last to complete the run.
While they drilled, Ren Huang shouted a lecture at them about the importance of establishing strong foundations, both in their cultivation and their martial forms. He Yu found it a bit difficult to listen, given that he had to focus on executing both the strikes and blocks perfectly, otherwise Ren Huang would appear next to him and strike him about the shoulders with a bamboo rod.
He Yu had to suppress a groan at the thought of continuing this training for the next three months. The only thing thing that allowed him to endure it was the certainty that he would otherwise be powerless before Sha Xiang when she finally came for him.