The undead reached him. The nearest one crouched and grabbed his arm, lifting it toward its maw.
Ah, no! I forgot! They eat people, even dead people! Hui started to release his hold on his qi.
Before he could release it fully, a wave of green-robed disciples burst through the portal overhead. Startled, Hui clamped down on his qi again. The ghoul drew his limp arm toward its gaping maw. Cold drool dripped onto his skin. Yellowed teeth shone in the low light.
Argh! I can’t let go, but I can’t keep playing dead, either!
“Kill the trespasser—huh? He’s already dead?”
A sword swept over Hui’s head. Seconds before the undead bit him, its head separated from its neck. The head plopped down, rolling over the dusty ground. Empty white eyes stared at Hui. The undead’s jaw worked steadily, chewing on nothing.
All around, cultivators in green rushed past, a few casting a stray smirk in his direction, while most hurtled past. The wave of green smashed into the sea of undead. Swords flashed. Thick blood splattered, mixed with viscera and gray flesh.
Handsome faces stared down at him. Committed to his ‘death,’ Hui focused on nothing, eyes dead ahead. He watched them from his peripheries, their faces slightly blurred. Even so, he could make out their similarity. All three of the boys standing over him had the same face, down to the tip of their eyes and the quirk of their lips.
The three boys tilted their heads at the same time. They glanced among each other.
“Well, the interloper is dead,” a girl declared. She wore the same green robes and bun as the boys, but had a much finer face, full lips, a delicate chin, and long, fluttering eyelashes. She kicked Hui over.
Hui took the blow limply.
The three boys looked at her.
“Should we leave him here?”
“Should we give him a proper burial?”
“Should we let them eat him?”
The girl shrugged. “Do whatever you like. I’m going ahead. Don’t forget, this secret realm only holds so many treasures. If you aren’t careful, you’ll come away empty handed.”
The three boys exchanged a glance. At last, the first one spoke up. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”
The wind picked up. Dust blew in Hui’s face. He resisted the urge to blink, vision steadily narrowing. Hurry up, move along! I can’t lie here forever.
The second of the three boys grabbed him by his ankle. “I’m going to bury him.”
Please no, Hui whispered in his heart. A suffocatingly tight space closed in around him. In his blurred vision, he couldn’t tell if it was real or not, that box. The pine box.
Heavy thumping. Nails, poking through the wood at the edges. The rattle of chains.
“Heft him up. He won’t pay, so let’s give him a little taste of what happens to those who default, huh?”
“No, no, stop! Stop! I’ll pay! Another day, one more—”
Hui blinked. The vision vanished, leaving him with the dry, gray dust, the stone pillars, the undead. In his chest, his qi wiggled back to life. Hurriedly, he clamped down again, but no one had noticed. The other two boys looked at the second blankly. The girl stood slightly in the distance, frozen mid-step.
Making up her mind, she shook her head and waved as she walked off. “Alright. You three have fun.”
“Mmm. We will,” the first promised.
“Bye-bye. Don’t get ate,” the third replied.
There’s something wrong with these boys’ brains, Hui thought, dangling by his ankle, robes astray, hair mussed, face smashed on the ground, while he played dead.
His heart fluttered. Hui let go of his hold on his qi. Instantly, qi rushed in, blasting toward him. Prepared for it this time, Hui sat up, yanked his ankle free, and crossed his legs, diligently circulating it into his dantian.
Two of the boys stared at him, startled.
“He’s not dead?”
“He’s not dead.”
The third boy turned and looked to the sky. “Ah, another.”
Hui peeked an eye open, curious.
Overhead, the black void closed, slowly sealing shut. As he watched, it shuddered, then spat out another figure.
Dressed in white, a pale girl leaped over them. White hair streaming behind her, she squeezed her eyes shut, eyelashes just as white. A wide red belt tucked her robes shut, and red silk trim traced the edges of her robe and peeked out from the ends of her long, gauzy sleeves. Voluminous skirts fluttered on the wind. Under the skirts, Hui caught a glimpse of a thick red rope wound around her ankles, binding them close, and then she landed. She opened her eyes, revealing irises as brilliantly crimson red as the silk on her robes.
“Intruder!” the first shouted, drawing his sword.
“Stop her!” the second agreed, quickly forming hand signs. He pointed his hands at the girl, and a stream of fire rushed at her.
“A snow rabbit!” the third boy exclaimed.
Faced with a wall of fire, the girl scoffed. She drew a pair of matched fans from her sleeves. “You challenge the Bai clan with fire? Truly, it is as they say. Precious disciples of the Mysterious Heavenly Forest Sect, you know nothing of this world.”
She swept her arms around, then flicked a fan casually. A blast of icy air cut the fire in two and reduced it to embers in the next breath.
The boy with the sword reached her. She tapped his sword lightly with her fan. Ice encased the blade. His blade fell heavily toward the ground, no longer able to reach her.
Hiding her mouth with one fan, she smiled, gently fanning herself with the other. “So? Is this all the Mysterious Heavenly Forest’s disciples have to offer?”
Hui glanced around. The third boy stared at him, but the other two bristled at the girl, thoroughly distracted.
It’s time for me to make my exit, he decided. Moving slowly, he crawled backward.
The third boy watched him go with wide eyes, but made no move to raise the alarm or stop him.
“Left,” the first boy grit out.
“Right,” the second replied.
The two pushed off, flashing at the girl. Her eyes widened, eyebrows raising in mock surprise. Fire blasted at her from the right, while the first boy’s ice-bound sword swept from the left. Moving the fans deftly, she wiped out the flames with a slash and caught the boy’s sword between the other fan’s tines.
“Ah, he’s leaving,” the third boy said.
“Shut up!” the first two replied in sync.
The third boy let out a long-suffering sigh. He sat down and shook his head, tired. His eyes cleared, suddenly, and he made eye contact with Hui for the first time. “She’s too pretty for them. They’re completely distracted. Just leave already.”
“Uh… thanks, I will,” Hui replied. He bowed to the boy, then jumped up and scurried off.
The third boy’s eyes glazed over again. Ignoring Hui, he crouched and nudged at the undead’s severed head, rolling it over so the undead chomped at the earth. A light giggle escaped his lips.
Hui glanced over his shoulder. What’s up with those guys? Is it some strange cultivation method only triplets can use? Or, inversely, a weird qi deviation that split one person into three? And that girl in white… what’s her realm? She can hold off two of those boys at once… they’re at least at the third stage, so she’s got to be fourth stage or better.
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He hurried off. I’d better get out of here before they remember I’m here! A pitiful little second stage cultivator like me has no chance against third and fourth stage cultivators! Master, why? Why did you throw me into this pit of lions?
His master’s voice replayed in his mind. Death qi… the best realm.
Hui shook his head, determined. Right! I can’t give up! I have to study this place. Find out more about this secret realm, and figure out what death qi is!
No longer playing dead or immediately assaulted by the ghouls, Hui took a moment to look around the secret realm as he fled the green-robed cultivators.
The realm laid out before him, bleak and empty. Gray, gritty sand, more tiny pebbles than proper sand, stretched out in all directions. Darker stones thrust through it, some upright, others at angles, the stones narrow on one end, flat on their surfaces and about as large around as a man, though twice as tall. Hui glanced at one of the stones as he passed it. Not quite matte, but neither shiny, the stones bore flat planes all around, the planes rounded and sharp at the edges. Almost crystalline, especially on their darker-gray surfaces, they thrust into the air. White and bluish streaks marked the dark brownish gray here and there. On a whim, he drew his sword and slapped the flat against the rock. Sparks flew.
As I suspected: the spires are flint.
In the distance, a thick fog swirled, obscuring his sight for more than a hundred meters in any direction. Larger flint outcroppings loomed from the fog, gaping darkness within hinting at cave entrances or flat, tall crystal planes suggesting high vantage points.
Darting between the spires, the green-robed cultivators made short work of the ghouls. What had seemed a sea of rioting bodies soon calmed. The ghouls laid on the ground in pieces while the green-robed cultivators vanished into the fog. Before long, even the dueling triplets and the girl in white and red faded behind Hui.
Alone in the fog, he pressed on, winding around the spires. Incapacitated ghouls laid all around, some weakly reaching for him, others little more than a mess of ashes, blood, or viscera. A few straggler ghouls rushed at him, passed over by the green-robed cultivators, but with a few slashes of his training sword, he broke their legs and left them behind.
A distant shriek caught his ear. Hui paused, staring into the fog. His hair swirled around his shoulders, stirred by the wind. The shriek cut off abruptly.
These ghouls aren’t particularly scary. They’re barely faster or stronger than ordinary mortals. If that’s the case, there’s no point taking it slow. As long as I avoid those green-robed cultivators, I should be fine. Hui pushed off again, hurtling deeper into the secret realm.
The spires grew larger the further he ran, from man-width and twice-man-height to twice as wide as a man and four time as tall. The larger outcroppings he’d spotted in the distance pressed out of the fog to greet him. He chose one and ran toward it. I’ll get a vantage point from there.
Up close, slick planes of flint soared into the sky. Sharp edges jutted at him. He touched one and yanked his hand back. A line of blood cut across his palm.
Closing his hand, Hui stared up at the outcropping. I can’t climb it. It’s too slick and sharp.
He turned and ran at one of the smaller spires. Pushing off the gritty earth, he launched himself into the air and landed atop the spire. Hui kicked off the top and flipped backward, throwing his center of gravity up into the air. Upside-down, he hurtled toward a upturned face on the outcropping. Hui landed in a crouch, head toward the ground, and began to slide down the face. His leather shoes slid faster on the slippery surface, but his bare hands grounded him. Shoving off with his arms, he managed to hop back and up to another upward-facing surface. This time, he jumped to his feet. Skidding over the flint, he hurriedly yanked off his shoes. Bare feet found purchase on the sheer surface, and he sprinted upward, leaping from one face to another.
A forty-five degree angle marked the top. Hui straddled it, one leg on either side of the edge. He glanced down. If I slip, that’d be a tragedy.
As soon as he thought so, his feet began to sweat. Hui quickly dried his feet on the inside of his pants and caught a better grip.
Fog spread in all directions. Far in the distance, similar outcroppings breached out of the fog like stationary whales, frozen in the midst of cresting cloud waves. The fog obscured the ground and the undead.
Somewhere off to the right, a flash of fire burst through the fog. Hui turned to face it, impassive. A hole opened, revealing the battle below. A green-robed cultivator faced off against a pack of ghouls. Even as he watched, the ghouls crumbled to ashes and the cultivator bolted off, deeper into the realm. The fog crashed in, obscuring the cultivator once more.
Everyone else is rushing into the heart of the realm. Well, it makes sense. They’re after whatever secret is hidden in this realm. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one here to study death qi.
Though… it seems like no one here has any trouble dealing with the ghouls. Undead cultivators are dangerous, but it seems ordinary ghouls aren’t that scary. Even little me can deal with them. Hui put his hand on his chin and tapped his fingers against his jaw. Undead cultivators cultivate death qi, according to Xixing. Doesn’t it follow that ghouls will have some spark of death qi, the same as all living creatures have ordinary qi?
Therefore! In order to study death qi, I need to capture some ghouls! They aren’t that dangerous. In fact, I haven’t even seen them heal. That inhuman regeneration Xixing mentioned doesn’t seem to apply to them. If I break their arms and legs, I should be able to keep them restrained more than long enough to study them. If that’s not enough, I can cut them to pieces.
Hui shuddered. Did I really think that? Isn’t that…
No, no. These are undead. It’s different. Like any zombie slasher film! It’s perfectly acceptable to cut them up, if I have to.
Hui twisted his lips, then shrugged. He hopped off the outcropping, bouncing from face to face on his way down. At the last leap, he jumped high and slid his shoes on in midair. Shod feet stomped down into the gravelly earth. Satisfied, Hui smiled to himself. It’d suck to have sandy feet.
I wonder if Master’s clothes-cleaning technique gets rid of stones in his shoes, too?
Hui shook his head. Focus, focus. First, I need to find a place to put the undead.
He circled around the outcropping. Unlike some of the others he’d seen in the distance, no gaping caverns opened up in this one’s side. Instead, near the foot of the overhanging edge of the outcropping, a narrow hole bored into its side. Sharp break marks along the edge of the hole and shattered bits of flint half-sunk into the gritty gray sand underfoot hinted that it had been built by a human at some point.
Hui ducked inside. A narrow tunnel led into the outcropping. Gray gravel crunched underfoot for his first few steps, then fell away as the tunnel sloped up. It opened ahead of him into a small space a little bigger than his hut back home. The bones of a cultivator draped in ragged white robes splayed across the back of the cave.
Wandering over, Hui crouched and nudged the cultivator’s skull. It lolled off his dry spine as one of the cultivator’s neck bones crumbled into powder. Hui ran his finger through the white powder and rubbed it between his forefinger and thumb. The fine dust rained down, sticking to his fingers. Crushed to dust? A ghoul didn’t do that.
A sword laid next to the cultivator. Hui picked it up and drew it, checking the blade. He slid his finger down its flat and peered down the length of the sword, then nodded. Hmm, yep, that’s a sword.
Shrugging, he tucked it into his belt. Better than a training sword.
He checked inside the cultivator’s robes, just in case. A handful of dusty talismans fell out. He sent a wisp of qi inside. Two of the talismans crumpled on contact, the paper falling apart to nothing. The third replied back with a hint of heat, the fourth, with wind, and the fifth gave him a complex feeling, something he couldn’t fully comprehend at a moment’s contact.
Curious, he checked the hem of the cultivator’s robes. At the back of their neck, they’d painted their name into their robes with the same reddish ink the talismans bore. Gu Tian.
“Nice to meet you, Gu Tian,” Hui greeted the bones. With a few swift strikes, he cut the name out of the robes.
Hui tucked the talismans and the nametag into his robes, then gathered up the bones. He carried them outside and set them by the edge of the slate outcropping. Kneeling, he sunk his fingers under the edge of a big piece of slate. Hui pulled at it with all his strength. It barely shifted. He pulled harder, injecting qi into his arms. Sweat broke out down his back. Hui grit his teeth and dug in his legs. The slate slowly loomed out of the earth, streaming gritty dust down its sides.
Hui hefted the slate aside, then set the bones in the hole. He kicked gray dust over the bones, then bowed and clapped his hands together. Pass on to the next life peacefully.
Turning to the slab of slate, he raised his new sword. Let’s see how sharp this baby is!
With all his strength, he swung the sword at the slate.
Sparks flew. The sword hit the slate and deflected backward, flying over his head behind him. His arms shuddered with the backlash.
“The spark effect was cool, but…” Hui twisted his lips. He shook his head and turned to retrieve his new sword. It stood upright in the gray dirt behind him, a fresh notch in the lower half of the blade.
He frowned as he picked it up. “Guess you aren’t a magical sword, then, huh?”
Sheathing the sword, he drew the wind talisman instead. He held it out in front of him, then paused. Pointed the edge at the slate, paused again. Wait, hold on. How do I use a talisman? I only have one. I don’t want to waste it.
He pulled a scrap of paper from his robe and set it on the piece of slate. Setting the talisman beside it, he bit his forefinger and pressed it to the piece of paper. Talismans are just scribbles on paper, right? Time to try the copying skills of the man who once faked a thousand signatures onto new loan agreements at gunpoint! He took a deep breath, furrowed his brows, and drew his finger across the paper. Each stroke, each angle, down to the direction of the stroke and the thickness of it—he copied them all perfectly. Halfway through, his blood ran dry. He lifted his finger to his mouth and bit again, pressing on.
At last, the talisman was finished. He lifted it up and compared it to the original, satisfied. Perfect. He sent a wisp of qi inside his copy.
Nothing. No wind. No qi at all.
He frowned. What did I miss? He prodded the original talisman again.
Qi shivered through the talisman. Something resonated deep within, in a way it hadn’t the first time. For a second, he felt the shape of the qi, the way the original creator had painted it into the talisman with the strike of their brush.
His eyes widened. So it’s like that!
Hui turned the paper over and lifted his thumb to his mouth. This time, for sure!
Again, blood scribbled over the paper. In a trance, he replayed the moment of resonance over and over as he drew, barely conscious of his own movements. Instinctively, he fed his qi in with his blood, shaping it into the talisman. The original cultivator’s technique welled up in his mind, and he felt a rush of wind, the cut of a blade. Boulder-Cutting Wind.
Hui drew the last stroke of the talisman and sat back, letting out a long breath. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and stood. At the peak, he wobbled, vision wandering in and out of focus. That… took more out of me than I thought it would.
He lifted the talisman and held it out, face flat toward the slate. Pouring the last of his qi into it, he shouted, “Activate!”
Wind blasted out of the talisman and slashed the slate apart. A crevasse opened under the slate as the wind cut down a full three feet into the earth.
Aha, I figured it out! Hui smiled at his newly-cut slate, satisfied.
Emptiness slammed into his stomach, an utter void of qi. He stumbled a step to the left. His foot slid on a thin layer of dust on one of the slate blocks. He threw out a hand to catch himself, and his vision quavered. He fell sideways, unconscious.