Lu strode into his room, fuming, and slammed his door closed without a care for how far the sound would carry. Long steps took him across the richly furnished room, past his ornately decorated bed and numerous dressers, to stop directly in front of his vanity. As he sat, maintaining perfect posture while lowering himself onto a plush floor cushion, his thoughts – a single thought, really – echoed through his head.
Why don’t women find me attractive? Surely, it can’t be me!
Indeed, a thorough self-scrutinizing found not a hair out of place. His pale skin was perfectly smooth like cream; his straight black hair tied in an elaborate looping bun, as was the current style, very trendy; his nose was small and inoffensive, but his lips full, drawing the eye with a careful application of rose-colored paint; even his robes billowed perfectly, emphasizing his slender yet masculine frame, which he took great care not to ruin with muscle or fat.
Yes, truly his appearance left nothing to be desired. And yet, Suu Li had- she had-
She had laughed in his face, spurning his earnest declaration of love! The humiliation, the absolute impropriety! To think, he had ever believed such a beast to be a fair maiden, worthy of his affections!
After a minute of berating Suu Li in his thoughts, insulting her color coordination and swearing eternal vengeance, he finally settled down.
Bah, I'm getting too worked up over this. I should cultivate! Yes, that will surely take my mind off things.
Lu wrestled his thoughts into submission, slowed his breathing, and focused inwards. Closing his eyes, he dropped deep into meditation and inspected his dantian, the miraculous spiritual construct that was both the product and foundation of his cultivation.
The smooth orb of compacted qi gleamed brightly to his spiritual sense, a perfect sphere of opaque crystal without a single blemish. Taking a deep breath inwards, qi flowed into his body along with air, insubstantial wisps his spiritual sense colored blue. Concentrating, his dantian began to spin, slowly at first, but picking up speed until it had formed a spiritual whirlpool in his chest. The wisps of qi were caught, dragged in by his spinning dantian, and began adhering to the surface.
Now for the tricky part…
Lu’s dantian performed a strange motion; it seemed to fold in on itself, like dough being kneaded, but without actually changing shape in any way. The blue bits of qi were sucked into the spinning ball, forming unsightly streaks. But as the kneading continued the colour became more homogenous, and eventually the orb was again a perfect silky pale color, the same as Lu’s favorite skincare products.
Lu finally let out his breath and allowed his dantian to slow, momentarily disgusted as he became aware of his now sweat-soaked body. Back when he had been in the first realm of cultivation he could draw qi into his dantian in mere moments, completing cycles almost in time with his natural breath. But now that he was in the third realm, the peak of the greater outer realm, a single cycle took well over ten minutes of intense mental effort. And he had to hold his breath the entire time.
But let no man say that Lu of the Steadfast Heart Sect was anything but diligent! Indeed, Lu made sure to complete two cycles a day, every single day, even if it meant he also had to cleanse his body and style his hair multiple times!
Actually, he had best get on that right away. It was getting late and he couldn’t possibly go to bed covered in sweat. Lu opened his eyes, revealing a man’s face directly in front of him, their noses almost touching.
“AaAAGH!” Lu flung himself back, startled by the common occurrence which really shouldn’t have startled him.
“Hah! Every time!” The man – Bull, Lu’s best (and only) friend – rumbled out, a smirk on his thick, scarred face.
“Bull! How dare you enter my room while I’m cultivating, you oaf!” Despite Lu’s harsh tone of voice, Bull only laughed.
“Ah, Lu, you need to develop your awareness! I’ve done this at least a dozen times, after all.” Bull’s voice was slow and deep, completely appropriate for his laid-back demeanor. He stood from where he was kneeling, while Lu disentangled himself from his robes. “How can you refine your cultivation, unless you face tribulation? Without my generous guidance, you would surely still be stuck in the first realm.”
Lu was still wrestling with his- that was to say, Lu was elegantly readjusting his clothing, which had been ruffled by his uncouth barbarian of a friend. “Tribulation, as if! Such methods are too old-fashioned for enlightened men. Closed-door cultivation is greatly superior; every single Elder of the Steadfast Heart ascended behind closed door!”
Bull’s smile only grew. “You say that, but didn’t you ascend two realms by training against me? In fact…” His voice took on an ominous tone. “You seem to be right on the edge of the fourth realm. Just a little push should be enough.”
Lu’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Wait, Bull, you can’t be serious. The third realm almost killed me, I’ll die! I’ll actually die!”
Bull, laughing, lunged forward and picked Lu up by his midsection. Although he was quite short, a full head below Lu, he was able to tuck the other man under his arm without effort. “To the training grounds!”
Lu was squirming like a fish, but it was no use. “Bull, please! Unhand me! This is undignified! Bu Guanyin, unhand me this instant!” His fists battered ineffectually against Bull’s fifth realm back. Bull wouldn’t actually hurt my body, but my pride is another matter. Bull, please, if anyone sees me being carried like a toddler the wound to my spirit will surely kill me!
----------------------------------------
The training grounds of the Steadfast Heart Sect was large and utilitarian. The ground was polished stone, with lines scored in a grid to provide traction, covering a square field five-hundred metres to the side. The walls were of the same stone, slanting upwards away from the ground at a forty-five degree angle. The slant was meant to prevent things striking the wall dead-on, deflecting attacks and reducing the effort needed to keep the training grounds in good repair. Sitting atop the wall were tiered stands, also of stone. On tournament days, or when popular disciples fought, the stands could pack a large percentage of the sect into the relatively small space.
At the moment, they were completely empty, not a single person being present to witness Lu getting methodically beaten to death.
Ah, no, that’s a thought too far. Bull hasn’t caused anything approaching permanent injury. It still hurts, though!
A closed fist whooshed past Lu’s ear, knocking from his thoughts, and he countered with a swift jab at Bull’s face. The result was a sore fist, his knuckles being much softer than Bull’s nose, followed by Lu taking an uppercut directly to the chest.
He wheezed, rolling backward, as he desperately squeezed qi from his dantian to flood his spiritual veins. Already, after only a half-hour of fighting, his dantian was depleted to a tenth what he had stored just earlier today; that was the amount he had to exert himself just to match the base strength and speed of Bull’s fifth realm body.
Yes, increasing one’s realm wasn’t just an increase of the amount and quality of one’s qi; it was the refinement of the entire self. When ascending to a higher realm, one’s dantian obviously became larger and denser, but the spiritual veins that nourished the body also became much more resilient. Qi refined the bones, organs, muscles, everything. Even the speed and clarity of thought increased.
Yes, for a lowly third realm to fight a fifth realm for this long was impressive. A mark of incredible skill.
That is, it would have been, if Bull had used a single drop of qi at any point. As it was, Lu was barely able to scratch his skin with his most powerful spells.
Drawing even more qi from his dantian, Lu shaped one of those spells as he retreated. The qi surged through him, molded by his concentration, and burst out of him as a fist-sized ball of fire. The Fireball art shot through the air, faster than an arrow.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Bull punched it, and it burst harmlessly on his steel skin.
“Ugh! You beast! Thoughtless pile of muscles, how dare you counter a refined spell with such brutishness? Use a spell, dodge, anything but this!” Lu stamped his feet, completely discarding his composure.
Bull was laughing again. “Use a spell, against your weak first realm arts? That would be an insult to my own arts. Bring out a proper third realm spell like you should, and I’ll counter it properly!”
Lu grimaced. I don’t have any third realm combat spells, and you know it. How dare you mock my refined arts, you musclebeast? Lu in fact knew a large number of third realm spells, but they were all utility spells he learned to make his life easier, and maintain his appearance. But actually…
If I combine that spell with a wind art, and add a bit from the second realm version of this other one…
Lu’s qi surged through his body, only the barest dregs left in his dantian. I’ll bet everything, on one final spell!
----------------------------------------
Bu Guanyin, Bull to his friends, was having a pretty good time. The sky was clear and the wind just a little cold, the perfect weather to be outdoors in, and watching Lu work himself up into a rage was always amusing.
People always wondered why Bull bothered with Lu. Not out loud to his face, that would be entirely too straightforward. No; they gossiped behind his back. Why would a rising star, an inner disciple who ascended to the fifth realm in under three decades of life, give the time of day to a simpleminded, unmotivated waste that had never put a single effort into his cultivation? The answer was quite simple: it was because Lu was an unambitious waste that Bull valued him as a friend.
Shallow. Talentless. Simple. From anyone else, these would be insults, but Bull held these qualities in the highest regard. Life in the Steadfast Heart Sect was a life of constant competition, each disciple warily circling the others for a chance to snatch limited resources. Like one of many sharks, all crammed together into a tiny pond, Bull could never let his guard down lest he be bitten. Each person was a rival to destroy, or a resource to exploit. Yes, once Bull had been a naïve child, trying to make friends with his sect brothers and sisters, but years of constant treachery had hardened him. Turned him into another predator, waiting for a smaller shark to let their guard down so he could fill his belly.
But with Lu, it was different. He had been arrogant, even as a child, but that arrogance had been well placed. Lu had actually advanced at a shocking pace, building his dantian a mere three days after admittance to the sect, where the next fastest had taken over a month.
All the elders of the sect had waited with great anticipation for this once-in-a-generation genius to blow past the other disciples, to advance swiftly and become a core disciple of the Steadfast Heart. They waited, patiently, as Lu hit a wall and took not a single step towards the second realm for a decade.
It was shocking. The young master, who had learned every first realm spell in the sect archives, was absolutely useless. One by one, all the other disciples that had entered that year surpassed him. And then next year’s disciples. He became a laughingstock, a punchline.
Bull worked diligently, ascended to the fourth realm, and became an inner disciple. For years, he gave Lu not a single thought. For years, he learned how to be a shark. But not well enough.
Bull had met a man, a popular inner disciple of the sixth realm, by the name of Tai Sho. Tai had been everything he wished to become; powerful, knowledgeable, respected, and untouched by vicious sect politics. Tai had accepted him as a friend, then as they became closer, a partner in dual cultivation. Bull couldn’t have been happier. All the stress of the sect, the constant scheming, seemed to slough off his shoulders like water. Tai had been a stone he could cling to, someone who would take any worries and cast them away by his mere presence.
Then, on an otherwise unremarkable day, Tai Sho had betrayed him completely.
Dual cultivation, the practice of syncing one’s cultivation with another’s and working in tandem, was not inherently a romantic activity. There was nothing about it which required a deep emotional bond, or physical attraction, merely that two people connect their qi together while cultivating. And yet, dual cultivation has a reputation for being something that only romantic couples do, and there is a reason for this; it is because both parties must give the other complete control over their cultivation. The qi connection must be completely unguarded for dual cultivation to be beneficial, and so any defence against one’s partner is impossible.
On that day, Tai Sho ripped Bull’s entire dantian from his chest, absorbed it, and then turned and left the room while Bull writhed in agony. Tai Sho ascended to the seventh realm, became a core disciple, and Bull never saw him again.
After that, Bull became a shark in truth. An inner disciple who had to cultivate again from scratch, if he stopped moving he would drown. If he stopped hunting he would starve. The best resources went to the strongest, so Bu Guanyin discarded everything that was not strength. Every smile could hide a knife, so Bu Guanyin discarded everything that was not himself.
He was the very image of the ruthless inner disciple. He was cold. He was cunning. He struck down rivals without mercy. He advanced back to the fourth realm swiftly, then surpassed himself and ascended to the fifth.
He was absolutely miserable.
Nothing he did could fill that gaping wound in his chest. The knowledge that he could never trust another human for the rest of his life. The certainty that if Tai could betray him, anyone could. They were all monsters crouching inside human skins, waiting to feast. Himself included.
And yet, there was an anomaly, something that didn’t fit.
Lu, the waste, who had given up on cultivating, who spent all his resources on vapid mortal indulgences. Who wasn’t worth knowing, wasn’t worth the effort of looking at or thinking of. Had nothing to offer. Nothing to steal.
Nothing to hide.
Bull was snapped back to the present by the buildup of qi he could feel emanating from Lu. Finally, a real spell.
Yes, Lu was different. He was the only person who had nothing to give, and therefore the only person whose gifts could be trusted. A man so shallow, he couldn’t possibly conceive of true deceit; the closest Lu had ever come to hurting someone, to putting a rival in their place, had been to replace their robes with a slightly smaller set. He had explained the whole plan to Bull, with what he probably thought was a devious smile. He’ll be destroyed, Lu had said, everyone will think he’s destitute, that he can’t afford new robes! Bull had laughed until his sides ached.
Ah, but he was getting distracted again. Lu’s spell activated, the qi structures snapping into place, and Bull braced himself for Lu’s attack.
But instead of an elemental blast or manifestation, like Bull had been expecting, Lu simply disappeared. Teleportation? Or an illusion?
Bull put his guard up properly, warily spinning in quick quarter-circles to avoid being blindsided. He waited, and waited, not dropping his guard for even a second. What’s he up to? He’s not running away, is he?
Suddenly, Lu reappeared. He was face-down, on the ground, exactly where he had disappeared.
“You ran out of qi, didn’t you?” Bull asked. Lu groaned in affirmation, and Bull let out a sigh. Well, it was probably too much to expect a good fight out of a man like Lu. Even at third realm, he’d probably lose a fight with a housecat. No, the man was no shark. It was lucky that he had Bull here, to force him to grow.
----------------------------------------
Ugh, qi exhaustion was terrible. His body was weak, and every motion seemed to take twenty times the effort. Even with his dantian working at maximum – not properly cycling to grow, he didn’t have nearly enough focus right now for that, just sucking in qi to fill the empty space – it would be hours before he could do anything. Just cleaning himself and going to bed would be an incredible hassle. Why had he exerted himself like this? To show off? It wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth it at all!
“So, what was that spell you tried? I’ve heard of some invisibility arts, but nothing under fifth realm.” Bull was carrying him again, this time over his shoulder. Lu’s pride puffed itself up, but was deflated by an errant wave of exhaustion. He’d just bear it for now, and get vengeance later.
“It was- urp,” Lu swallowed back the bile that was trying to climb up his throat. He’d had qi exhaustion before, but this nausea was much worse than anything he could remember. “It was mostly a spell for changing the color of an outfit, with some bits from a sonar art. I thought I could get a sort of camouflage effect, then use illusions of myself to fake you out… Didn’t get to that part.”
Bull paused, still only halfway across the training grounds. “Well, the first part worked more than fine, you were completely invisible. Ah, little Lu, creating his own spells. They grow up so fast!” he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.
“Ugh, just get me to my room you URK- you HURK-“ Lu lost the battle against his stomach, spewing bile all down Bull’s robe.
“Lu, ah, what the Hell? Are you sick?”
“It’s just the qi exhaustion,” Lu managed to choke out.
Bull set him down. “Qi exhaustion shouldn’t make you vomit. Something you ate?”
Lu felt terrible, worse than before. His head was pounding, and he was either too hot or too cold. “I haven’t eaten anything in years. Disgusting habit, eating, why would a refined cultivator need to eat…”
Bull was frowning, the expression not fitting on his usually jovial face. “You look terrible. I’ll fetch someone from the medical wing, real quick. Thirty seconds at most.”
Lu opened his mouth, but Bull was already gone before he could reply, stone chips flying from where he had leapt towards the exit. He damaged the floor. Do I really look that bad?
Another rush of bile told Lu that yes, he probably did look that bad. In fact, he was feeling that bad. His skin was too tight, like the setting evening sun was drying him out. The cool wind, pleasant just a few moments ago, was now ripping into him like sharpened scythes. Everything was too much.
When Lu had been a young child, he had sometimes felt a curious sensation when he lay down; a feeling like he was a giant. His tiny child limbs had elongated in his mind’s eye, stretching until they were kilometers long, his hands and feet incredibly far away. It was only a trick of the mind, disappearing the moment he moved.
He had a feeling like that now, but instead of his own body, it was everything else that was expanding. The training ground walls loomed above him, tall cliffs surrounding the impossibly wide stone plain. The thin scores in the ground, which made it look like square tiles rather than plain stone, had widened and deepened into bottomless fissures. He was falling, falling into the earth, falling into a crack no wider than the width of a coin. His robes were a blanket, then a tent, then a mountain of fabric entombing him, and he couldn’t move a finger.
I think, Lu thought, I might possibly be hallucinating.
Shouldn’t Bull have been back by now? Surely, thirty seconds had passed? He couldn’t tell, the world was too far away, he was too far into the crack, too crushed under the mountain.
The sky fell down, a blue ocean shoving him through the ground, and Lu of the Steadfast Heart Sect felt himself pop out of existence.