Death was like the wind. It always came unannounced and left without notice.
Xing hated every moment of his life that forced him to experience such things. He stared down into the grave he just dug, looking at the dark circles that encompassed Zhu Zixin’s eyes. The old man looks so peaceful He thought.
The few days they spent together, discussing the Jianghu, Xing felt as though, he was a long loss friend. Now he’s gone and I didn’t lift a finger to save him, He bemoaned.
The wroth and grief of Chief Zixin’s death reminded Xing of his of lost Yun Yan, the love of his life.
The Cerulean Pavilion, the very sect she once belonged to. More like a cult, He thought bitterly.
The Cerulean Pavilion was a small sect-but cult-like. It was an all woman sect. The Matriarch had been taking orphaned little girls from off the streets and training them for assassination and to comfort noble-men. She’d even sell as wives to powerful sects.
Yun Yan harbored a strong desire for freedom. She didn’t want to kill, comfort men or women, nor did she want to be sold to a noble-man or a sect master
As fate would have it, she met Xing and fell in love with him.
When Xing met her, he believe she was too righteous, but after they’d saved a nobleman’s daughter. She deciphered quickly that the nobleman’s rivals were the ones who initiated the kidnapping.
…and from there he slowly grew to admire her.
Yun Yan wasn’t a delicate flower that needed protection. She was more like a vine, ready to prick if you weren’t careful…strangle you even.
Yet, I ran away watching Matriarch Yun, killing her right before my eyes. I’M NOTHING BUT A COWARD!
“Do not blame yourself for this Brother Xing. Blame Dao Li. He poisoned Chief Zixin.” Susu said, taking him from his thoughts.
Xing turned to Susu and stared into her brown eyes. The tears flowed from her eyes like a waterfall…and he hated it.
He hated how weak he was. He hated that because of weakness his martial sister was crying!
I need to do better…I must become stronger!
As the wind blew, Susu’s veil waft. He smiled bitterly and nodded, acknowledging what he must do next. “You’re right...but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t hold some blame for this.”
“Blame? how? Because you threw away the wine they gave you?”
“You knew?”
“Of course, you were playing drunk. I know when you’re drunk Brother Xing.”
“If I’d tasted the wine then maybe I would’ve been able to discover the posion.”
“You may have, but this is life Brother Xing. Elder Zhu wasn’t much of a drinker, but he still engaged his men in the tomfoolery.”
Xing ground his teeth, feeling the sting of Susu’s words. He knew that Elder Zhu only drank to be courteous with him and now he’s dead.
“Brother Xing…” Susu said calmly.
“Yes Su’er?”
“Have you forgotten everything Brother Ying has taught us about Poisons?”
“Of course not!” Carthis is a tasteless posion whilst Peaak poison is bitter, sarnik poison is sweet, but Yioj has a hint of foliage in it.”
Xing drew his lips to a line. Shame washed over him for a second, but he understood why Susu asked him such a thing.
He might’ve been able to access to wine from a few drops, but if it was carthis…he wouldn’t be able to detect it. Not without cultivating his Qi…and that was something he didn’t do much of, when drinks were sharing.
Xing broke out in a ballad, letting the shame of his arrogance fuel his melancholy. He began humming a tale meant for heroes long gone. Susu joined in a sorrowful tone.
The succulent echo of Susu’s voice was like hearing the melodic essence of a guzheng.
The difference was, that her voice was as haunting as the wind, pricking Xing’s skin with each note she sang, which made her sound as though she was weeping.
Once the ballad was finished, Susu placed the child on the ground. A cold gust of wind brushed across the surface, taking up dead grass and branches into the air, then sprinkled them in the distance.
The baby sat up, dirt in hand rolling it into a ball, looking at it curiously, then tossed it in the air, only for it to hit her in the head.
She looked around, trying to find it, then began crying. Susu picked her up before she could even say a proper prayer for Zhu Zixin. “What are you doing!?” Xing snapped, annoyed.
“Let her cry Susu…” Xing said. “It’s OK to cry sometimes. I know how strong you are, but I also know how vulnerable you can be. I’ve watched you cry because you couldn’t perform a palm strike properly. I felt your anger when I told you Shi Qiu broke off tour engagement, but never have I seen you so gentle. I know how much you care for the child, but sometimes you have to let them live.”
Xing watched as tears dripped from Susu’s face as she leapt to a tree, and then ran off in the distance. His heart became heavy because he knew she bottled up everything.
Their lives had changed drastically in the past thirty days and it was taking a toll on both of them.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
They knew nothing of being parents, but one thing was for certain, they would do it their way.
…or die trying.
Chaoxiang
The crackling sound of the fire sifted around the room, arousing Feng Chaoxiang’s ears as he sat in front of the fireplace, warming himself.
His eyes creepily opened as his body ached, but mostly within his chest. “Ying’er” He said softly.
But Bo Ying didn’t answer.
The orange gleam from the fire flared off, making the usually dull bricks seem alive. As the fire fought the humidity within his room to a standstill, it still left traces of ice within the air. Ice that stole warmth from Chaoxiang’s lips.
Chaoxiang pushed himself up in his chair, realising the roughness of his blanket. A smile painted itself across his face as he felt contented. Ying’er is as nurturing as they came. Chaoxiang thought.
“You’ll make a fine husband and good father,” He whispered, pushing himself from out of his chair.
The icy embrace of the night hit him in the chest, making him heave-a-cough. He caressed his chest, trying to soothe the agitation away, but was only successful in feeling the palm strike he’d received three months ago.
As he grimaced from the pain for possibly the two thousandth time. The girth of his lungs expanded enough to allow him to inhale deeply, as he tasted the icy wind.
He opened the meridians leading to his Core Dantian and allowed his Qi to flow through like a whirlwind. “Ahhh…that’s better.” He said with a smile.
As Chaoxiang turned his head, his eyes met the table he’d been starving away at for the past two months.
His lips curled into a smile as he saw the manual he’d just finished. A manual that he’d been working on for the past two months with the help of Bo Ying.
“This’ll allow Xing’er, Ying’er Guo’er and Su’er to increase their prowess, twofold,” He said with a smile.
As he touched his chest, only irony could resonate in his mind. A bitter irony…one that made him laugh. “Who would’ve thought that taking the palm strike from Grand Master Uang Bang would’ve allow to do understand why The Guided Fist lacked power.
The core aspect of my style was weak, hence why my disciples created their own distinctive styles.”
He approached the table, picked up the blue book and shook it in his arms. It made him feel as though he hadn’t left his disciples to wander the Jianghu with weak foundation.
Foundation that would’ve stopped them from entering the higher echelons of Martial Artists within the Jianghu. And with that, he smiled as any man would, as he’d live another one hundred years.
A creaking groan emanating from his left drew his attention. He turned left, watching the flames flicker from the wind sneaking through the door opening. “Master! You’re awake…” Bo Ying said.
“I am,” Chaoxiang answered.
The sweet aroma from the tea fluttered into the room, quelling the scent of ashes from the flames. Black tea? Ying’er truly spoils me. Chaoxiang thought ruefully.
Chaoxiang stepped forward and pulled the chair to his table back, resting himself as Bo Ying walked toward him.
“Master!”
“Enough Ying’er. I need to walk around or my bones will wither to dust!” Chaoxiang joked.
Ying placed the tray on the table without rebuttal and walked over to Chaoxiang and assisted to the chair, with visible protest.
As Chaoxiang sat, he began pouring the tea into his master’s cup. Once Ying finished, Chaoxiang snatched up the tea, feeling the warmth of the cup, then blew the steam away taking three quick sips, feeling his gradually warm itself from the tea.
“Has Guo’er left?” Chaoxiang asked, turning to Ying who still still stood above like a sentry.
“Yes Master, Brother Guo left this morning.”
“Good, Su’er and Xing’er would only try to coax him into staying longer. You know how much Guo’er hates death.”
“But I agree with them Master, he should be here!”
“No he does not.
“But Master,”
“Enough!” Chaoxiang snapped.
The fire extinguished itself from Chaoxiang’s Qi, but that wasn’t enough to intimidate Bo Ying. He stood there, lips drawn to a line…unfazed.
Chaoxiang was too old for tantrums, but he didn’t like explaining himself much, not these days anyways, but he knew Bo Ying cared. So he quelled his Qi.
A surge of heat flowed through Chaoxiang’s room from the fire pit, warming the room again. A wave of goosebumps trickled down Chaoxiang’s back, making him smile bitterly. “I see you’re ignoring my tantrums now. Fine. Speak your mind Ying’er.”
“Master…” Bo Ying said calmly. “It’s not fair that you allow Brother Guo to leave. Brother Xing doesn’t like death either.”
“Xing’er and I haven’t spoken in three years, Ying’er. I’ve been roaming the Jianghu with Guo’er for the past two years. I want to ask one thing. Out of the four of you. who has fulfilled their filial duty to me without respite?”
“Brother Guo”
“Exactly...now let this be the last of it, you understand?”
“Yes Master,”
“Good…”
As Chaoxiang turned to Ying, noticing him fidgeting with the tray in his hand. It was a habit he had when he wanted to speak, but with himself before deciding on what to do. It seems he has more to say...fine, I'll let him have his say, Chaoxiang thought.
“Is there something else on your mind Ying’er?”
Chaoxiang watched as Ying’s palms clutched onto the tray with worry. His eyes held a permanent gentleness to them, but right now. He could see the worry in Ying’s eyes. “The lot of you all have to grow up, eventually…” He said softly.
“Master?”
“Nothing lad, I was talking to myself. Anyways..I’m still listening, I can see the worry on your face, how can I ease that burden for you?”
“Will you allow me to speak to Brother Xing and Su’er regarding your fight with the Thunder Palm Sect?”
“You will do no such thing! Do you intend to watch Martial Siblings engage in meaningless revenge because of your insolence!?”
“BUT MASTER HIS THUNDER PALM STRIKE IS KILLING YOU!” Xing shouted.
“As by his right Ying’er. When the Thunder Palm Sect banished me due to my lack of talent. They didn’t destroy my dantians or meridians. They give me one rule. Do not pass on knowledge of the Intent, and I broke it.
Ive taken passages from the Thunder Palm Sect’s sacred Manual, Celestial Thunder Palm and developed The Guided Fist.
The Soft Heart Sutra, uses essences from the Thunderous Heart Mantra. I have stolen from them Bo Ying. And what I’ve stole I have tuaght to you and your martial siblings.
The three palm strikes I recieved from Grand Master Uang means nothing, as long as you, Su’er, Guo’er, Xing’er can live…do you think me taking those palm strikes because I was unable to defend myself? No. It was to save you all!”
“Master, Brother Xing will soon break through to the Qi Perception Realm, once he does. I’m certain he can fight against Sect Master Uang Bang!”
“Xing’er couldn’t even wrestle a fly. The only battle he’ll win is one with a bottle!”
“Master! That’s not fair, you know how Sister death Yan’s broke him.”
“Yet, you want to use my death as a way to motivate him into killing Sect Master Bang!”
“BECAUSE HE DESERVES TO DIE!”
Chaoxiang swirled his Qi within his Core Dantian, allowing it to seep into his hands. The Qi began roiling around him like a tempest that slowly quelled the fire pit which was sat behind Ying.
The room slowly grew colder, as Master Chaoxiang’s eyes, as he looked up at Bo Ying who stared down at him, frightened from the sight of his master. “Bo Ying.” He said coldly. “Am, I, your Master?”
“Yes, Master you are!”
“If, I, am you, master, then swear upon your life.”
“I swear upon my life.” Bo Ying said.
“That, I, Bo Ying, Grandson of Bo Ling will not speak a word of my master’s fight with the Sect Master of the Thunder Palm Sect , Uang Bang. I will not utter a word to Ban Susu nor Zhao Xing, because if I do...my master will not acknowledge me in death and my grandfather will disown me in the afterlife once we meet again.”
“...Master..”
“SAY IT OR I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN RIGHT NOW” Chaoxiang roared.
“I, Bo Ying, Grandson of Bo Ling will not speak a word of my master’s fight with the Sect Master of the Thunder Palm Sect Sect, Uang Bang. I will not utter a word to Ban Susu nor Zhao Xing, because if I do...my master will not acknowledge me in death and my grandfather will disown me in the afterlife once we meet again.”
“Good. Now, brew me another pot of tea...this one has gotten cold.”