“Spirit horse,” Liu Tsong corrected. “Autumn Wind is in the fifth stage.”
“Ah, of course,” Wu Ying said, making a face.
Liu Tsong’s eyes narrowed as she spotted how Wu Ying reacted. “What is it?”
“It’s… never mind.”
“No. What is it?” Liu Tsong insisted.
“Nothing. Just how you nobles have it easy.”
Liu Tsong arched an eyebrow. “Nobles?”
“Well, you and your horses. It’s not as if everyone can afford a tamed spirit animal.”
“No. Of course not,” Liu Tsong said. “Do you really think we’re all the same?”
“Well—”
Liu Tsong snorted, shaking her head. “I thought you had gotten over that already. Are you still feeling persecuted?”
“Yin Xue—”
“Yes, yes. I know of him,” Liu Tsong said. “But did you ever think about why the nobles reacted to you and not, say, Tou He?”
“Well, Tou He’s an ex-monk—”
“Ex,” Liu Tsong said. “And you might be rare, but you’re not the only commoner in the sect. So why you?”
“I…”
“It’s that look on your face, the way you hold yourself.” Liu Tsong sniffed. “You carry yourself as if you’re better than us. As if because we were born as nobles, we’re less worthy than you.”
“I don’t—”
“Really? Are you really saying you don’t think nobles are lazy and gifted with everything?”
“I—”
“And we’re where we are because of our money and status?”
“I guess so,” Wu Ying admitted. “But in the outer sect—”
“Oh yes, the outer sect. That’s why I never said anything then. There are those in the outer sect who rely on their status and money, on their circumstance, and hope it is enough. But you’re not in the outer sect now, are you?” Liu Tsong fixed Wu Ying with a flat gaze until he reluctantly shook his head. “And do you see any inner sect member being lazy? Relying on their status to get ahead?”
“Lazy…” Wu Ying fell silent and Liu Tsong allowed him to do so.
He thought over his recent interactions. Of how Bao Cong worked for hours in front of the forge, sometimes going so far as to reforge pieces he, personally, found unacceptable. Or Li Yao, who was at the training grounds every single day, working herself to the bone to better her martial styles. Or even Liu Tsong, seated beside him, intent on learning how to be a better teacher and visiting him again and again. Even the Elders and Seniors Wu Ying had met who were bad teachers were not bad cultivators. They just had no interest in teaching.
Wu Ying sat beside his friend, going over the people he knew, his interactions, and his own reactions. The way he cursed nobles all the time, how he blamed them for their upbringing—even when he bemoaned their actions of blaming him for his own upbringing. Wu Ying turned over in his mind what he had done, how he spoke, who he spoke to, and came to a realization. About himself. And the sect.
“I’ve been a bit of an ass,” Wu Ying said.
“A bit?”
Wu Ying shook his head, leaning back as something in his chest unclenched. He opened his mouth to say something else to Liu Tsong, but the bitterness that had sat within him from being picked upon by Yin Xue and his sponsors faded. The anger, the resentment, the hurt bled out and, in doing so, opened previously blocked meridians. Enlightenment—just a touch, a moment of grasping the Dao—pierced Wu Ying’s mind.
Around the pair, chi swirled as Wu Ying’s enlightenment was acknowledged by the heavens. Chi hummed and flowed and Wu Ying sat straight, his aura loosening as he grasped at the sudden increase in ambient chi. As chi poured into his dantian, Wu Ying did his best to corral it and send it swirling within, intent on making it his own and, perhaps, pushing for a breakthrough.
Liu Tsong watched for a moment before she stood, a rueful half-smile on her face as she walked away from the campfire. All around Wu Ying’s still form, cultivators glanced at the child reaching enlightenment before they looked aside, leaving him alone to savor the opportunity.
As she walked away, Liu Tsong muttered to herself with little intent, “Maybe I should consider holding a few grudges.”
“I am going to be so happy when I’m done with this stage,” Wu Ying said as he gagged on the stench that rose from his body as he exited his cultivation. But even the smell could not stop Wu Ying from basking in his accomplishment of breaking through to Body Cleansing 11. Though a moment later, Wu Ying flushed in shame as he realized why he had achieved his breakthrough. “I’m going to have to apologize to a lot of people, aren’t I?”
“You could start with me,” the outer sect porter said, arms crossed in. “I had to make a new fireplace and dinner since you decided to cultivate right next to mine.”
Wu Ying winced, glancing at the burnt porridge that sat over the dying fire in front of him. He apologized to the porter, promising to finish the spoiled food after he had completed his shower. Only when Wu Ying had apologized a few more times did the porter give in, though Wu Ying wondered if the eventual acceptance was the porter’s desire to make Wu Ying leave.
Wu Ying shrugged and stood, turning his mind back to the momentary enlightenment he had received. And the apologies he had to make. The one he looked forward to least was Yin Xue. Even if there was bad blood between them, even if Wu Ying had real reasons for his dislike, for his enmity. Holding on to the grudge had only managed to clog up his own meridians. Dwelling in the past, reveling in it, was not good for one’s dao. Not for most.
Some darker daos, those that people did not discuss in polite company, used such negative emotions. Held them close, tended them. Made them part of their belief system, their mentality. Used them to grow stronger, even if doing so made progressing through Body Cleansing and Energy Storage harder. Those stages might be aided by enlightenment, but it was, in the end, a physical cleansing and cultivation. Even Core Formation was mostly physical. Only when one needed to form a Nascent Soul did the need for a proper dao ideology matter. And at that point, those who held, who believed in, a darker dao could act. Could form their immortal souls based around a belief of hate and anger, of vengeance and jealousy.
These groups, these cults, these individuals, were not spoken of much among proper cultivation societies. The dark sects were feared, spoken of in hushed conversations late at night among close friends. Creatures who preyed on the weak, who threw their immortal souls into the flames of their baser instincts, were prone to violent whims and petty jealousies. Hushed conversations of entire families, entire sects destroyed due to a careless word added to the fear.
Wu Ying pushed away those thoughts, bringing his attention back to the present. Not the time or place for it. Especially when he was about to get naked. Chuckling, Wu Ying headed for the outdoor shower.
Shower. Supper. Then an apology to Liu Tsong. And his other friends, when they returned.
Chapter 20
The next morning, Wu Ying was completing his forms when Liu Tsong walked up to him and the remaining group of martial specialists. The young pill refiner had an extremely serious expression, one which made the other martial specialists pause in their practice as well.
“Senior?” Wu Ying said.
“They are still not back,” Liu Tsong said, stating the obvious.
“You mentioned they might be staying later.”
“Later. But they should have returned, or at least sent a messenger.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Li Yao said as she stepped forward. As the most senior martial specialist left at the camp, she took command of the discussion.
Wu Ying scratched his head but left it, knowing it was not his place to speak.
“Not yet. The Elders are discussing the matter, but I wanted to let you know.” Liu Tsong looked around once more, her eyes landing on the formation flags distributed throughout the camp. “I understand Elder Dong wants to reinforce the formation before we send others out.”