Jin Shu and Fan Biyu chatted easily, the earlier awkwardness fading as their conversation grew lively. At one point, Jin Shu leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“Do you happen to know any combat techniques I could learn?”
Fan Biyu shook her head. “No, I only have ones from our sect, and they’re exclusive to female cultivators. Why do you ask?”
“I ran into some assassins on my way back from the capital,” Jin Shu explained, his tone turning serious. “It made me realize my fighting techniques could use some improvement.”
Her eyes widened. “Assassins?”
He nodded. “Probably sent by one of my cousins.”
“Cousins…?” She blinked before recognition dawned. “Oh, right—you’re a prince of the Sun Empire. I forgot.”
“It’s not like I’m a real prince,” he said, shaking his head with a wry smile. “It’s just a title.”
“That’s not true,” she said, tilting her head, her curiosity piqued.
Jin Shu frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Master said you have ascension rights,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“I do!?” Jin Shu recoiled, his eyes widening in shock. This was the first he’d heard of such a thing—not that he wanted the throne.
Fan Biyu nodded firmly. “Uh-huh. Master said your title places you in line with the Crown Prince.”
Jin Shu reached for his earring, retrieving the Crown Prince’s insignia he had tucked away. He stared at the emblem, his thoughts churning. Could it have been the Crown Prince who ordered the assassins? Shaking his head to dispel the idea, he tucked the insignia back into place.
“Forget it,” he muttered under his breath before standing abruptly. “Alright, I need to go. I’ve got training to do.”
Fan Biyu nodded, watching as he made his way toward the gateway. “Jin Shu!” she called after him, her voice stopping him in his tracks.
He glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Thank you…”
Jin Shu smiled gently. “You’re my mother’s disciple. That basically makes us brother and sister.” With a casual wave, he stepped through the gateway and disappeared from view.
Left alone, Fan Biyu’s expression shifted, a faint melancholy overtaking her features. “Brother and sister…?” she murmured, her cheeks flushing at the memory of their earlier closeness. “I don’t think a brother would feel like that about his sister, though…”
Her fingers traced idle lines on the table as her thoughts drifted. “Was it… like this?”
----------------------------------------
Jin Shu stood in the middle of the training room normally utilized by the family’s guards. The space was equipped with state-of-the-art runic mechanisms, a generous gift from his uncle.
In his right hand, he held a pistol. In his left, a curved-bladed dagger resembling a karambit. Jin Shu shifted his stance, his body naturally settling into the familiar posture he’d drilled endlessly in his past life as a soldier. His grip on the pistol was firm but not rigid, while the karambit glinted ominously in the dim light of the room.
He inhaled deeply, focusing his mind. Cultivators in this world were unlike the enemies he had faced on Earth. They didn’t rely on modern tactics but followed traditional fighting styles passed down rigidly through generations. Though disciplined, their lack of adaptability was a weakness he intended to exploit.
In the military, Jin Shu had been trained to use everything to his advantage—whether it was the weapon in his hand or the dirt beneath his feet. Strategy, agility, and precision were his weapons now.
At the far end of the room stood a wooden target painted with vaguely humanoid features. With a sharp flick of his wrist, Jin Shu channeled his qi to activate a rune embedded on the wall. The room whirred to life, and the target began to move, weaving unpredictably from side to side. Thin, blunted rods shot toward him in erratic patterns, simulating attacks—part of the automated defense system the family’s guards used to train reflexes.
He started slow, raising the pistol and firing a quick shot at the moving target. The bullet struck its shoulder—a solid hit but far from the lethal precision he needed.
He cursed under his breath and adjusted his aim. As the rods whistled toward him, Jin Shu ducked, rolled to the side, and brought up the pistol again. This time, the bullet pierced the target’s chest.
“Better,” he muttered, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
The rods came faster now, forcing him to switch tactics. Jin Shu sidestepped another barrage, the karambit in his left hand flashing as he deflected a rod that came dangerously close. In a real fight, he knew the blade wouldn’t do much against a higher-realm cultivator’s qi-reinforced body. Still, the karambit had its uses.
Spinning the weapon in his hand, he recalled the close-quarters combat techniques he’d practiced in his past life—slashes, hooks, and quick thrusts, all designed to exploit weak points.
“Speed and precision,” he reminded himself aloud, moving to a shadowed corner of the room.
He tapped another rune, activating the training system’s second stage. New targets emerged—humanoid dummies clad in leather armor inscribed with faint runic patterns. These simulated the natural durability of Core Realm cultivators.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Jin Shu advanced swiftly, firing his pistol. The first shot aimed at a dummy’s head ricocheted harmlessly off the rune-reinforced leather. He frowned. His unmodified weapon wasn’t enough to break through.
Cursing under his breath, he darted forward, closing the distance. His karambit slashed at the dummy’s throat, finding the small gap between the armor’s overlapping plates.
“That’s it,” he murmured, exhilaration coursing through him as the dummy crumbled backward.
Two more dummies rushed forward on weighted tracks, their movements unnervingly lifelike. Jin Shu rolled to avoid them, firing a quick shot at one dummy’s knee. The rune-enhanced leather absorbed most of the impact, but the shot staggered it enough for him to strike. He sliced upward with the karambit, targeting the joints and severing the straps holding its armor in place.
The second dummy bore down on him, swinging a wooden sword in a powerful overhead arc. Jin Shu raised his pistol instinctively, firing twice at its shoulder joint. The strikes slowed the dummy’s movements just enough for him to sidestep and hook his karambit into the joint. With a sharp twist, he “disarmed” the dummy, its weapon clattering to the floor.
Jin Shu stepped back, panting as the training system powered down. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his muscles burned, but his mind remained sharp. This was only the beginning. Cultivators were faster, stronger, and deadlier than any wooden dummy or automated rod. If he wanted to survive—and win—he would need more than raw skill.
"Runes," Jin Shu muttered under his breath. "I need them, or my weapons will become useless."
"Speaking of runes," Nano’s voice chimed in softly, "when do you plan on using the ability tied to your cultivation technique?"
Jin Shu frowned. "Hm? What ability?"
"The Dragon-Tiger Tattoo," Nano replied, its tone almost teasing.
"That? I thought it was just a fancy name to make the technique sound impressive. You're saying I can actually bring my tattoos to life?"
"You haven't tried," Nano said simply. "So how would we know?"
Jin Shu's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Should I?"
"That’s up to you."
Taking a deep breath, Jin Shu nodded. There weren’t any detailed instructions on how to activate the tattoos, but he reasoned there could only be one way. Power the Life-Giving Rune with Qi.
Channeling his Qi into the rune etched on his skin, he felt nothing at first. The silence stretched until his patience began to waver. Then, just as he poured nearly half of his Qi into the rune, the air exploded with sound—a thunderous roar of a dragon intertwined with the feral cry of a tiger.
Two shimmering claws, one draconic and the other feline, materialized in the air before him, their forms composed entirely of Qi. They hovered ominously for a moment before tearing through a nearby training dummy. The wooden arms, reinforced with armor, splintered and fell to the ground in a single, devastating blow.
Jin Shu blinked, stunned by the destruction. "That was just the claws. What would happen if the dragon and tiger were fully formed?"
Images flooded his mind—a dragon and tiger made entirely of Qi, their limbs powerful enough to obliterate mountains with a single swing. The thought sent a thrill through him, his breath quickening with anticipation.
He reached to holster his pistol and sheath his karambit, his movements still half-absorbed in his daydream. The clatter of metal striking the floor jolted him. Jin Shu froze, staring down at his weapons in bewilderment.
“Oh… riiight.” His voice was flat as realization dawned. “I don’t have a holster. Or a sheath.”
He glanced around quickly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Luckily no one saw that,” he muttered before bending down to retrieve his weapons.
“Saw what?” A sweet, feminine voice sounded from the doorway.
Jin Shu turned, spotting Li Xue standing there with a bright smile. Her cheerful expression was a stark contrast to the tear-streaked face he had seen last time.
“What brings you here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I heard from a pair of gossipy maids that you were training here,” she replied, her steps light and bubbly as she approached.
Gossipy maids? Jin Shu frowned slightly, trying to place faces or names to the description. His family employed so many servants that remembering even half of them felt impossible.
“Would you like a sparring partner?” Li Xue asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Can you fight?” he asked, giving her small frame a once-over. She was short—barely over five feet, if that—and slender to boot. They used the metric system in this world, right? That made her around 160 centimeters or so. He found himself distracted by the random thought.
“I was a guard in the capital,” she said pointedly, crossing her arms. “And before you ask, no, my adopted father didn’t give me the position. I earned it.”
Jin Shu shook his head, smiling faintly. “I wasn’t going to ask.”
“Oh... well, anyway, I can fight,” she insisted, squaring up in front of him.
Her stance was determined, but Jin Shu couldn’t help laughing. She reminded him of a tiny puppy challenging a wolf. Actually, how tall am I now? he wondered. I haven’t measured, but I’m probably about the same as I was in my last life. Six-foot-two. And I haven’t stopped growing yet, either.
Bam!
Before he could process what was happening, Jin Shu found himself flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He blinked, glancing around in confusion until his eyes landed on Li Xue, who was staring at her hands in disbelief.
Finally, she looked down at him and whispered, “So weak...”
Jin Shu twisted his body, quickly picking himself up. “I wasn’t ready yet,” he said shamelessly, brushing himself off.
Li Xue raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching as if holding back a laugh. “Dummy.” She muttered under her breath.
Jin Shu squared his stance, his eyes narrowing. “Again!”