13 Stalks; Origin of blessings


Forenote:

Fighting! NYY Training! As promised (all the way back at chapter 5)! Combat!
Also- It was getting waaay too long, so I split it in twain~~~double update my dudes


Shen Qingqiu sat across from Ning Yingying in the Bamboo House drinking strongly steeped oolong tea, more for Shen Qingqiu's benefit to centre himself after enduring a long, early shichen of Mu Qingfang smudging samples of various ingredients and concoctions onto his skin and muttering on about the qi flows and interactions. By the end, Shen Qingqiu had felt more like a canvas used for colour study than a fully autonomous sentient being, especially as some of the spots changed colour or glowed upon his qi cycling under Mu Qingfang's instruction.

The only benefit to the headache it caused him is that the Healer seemed to be making a conscientious effort to ignore and move past the proceedings of the evening prior, aside from a singular off-hand mention of reducing stress by delegating his workload. However, in the stillness of Qing Jing beyond his window in the cool morning light and the sub-vocal hums and murmurs of his amusingly bustling companion, he decided not to poke at his shidi about it. No use upsetting the neutrality his Healer Lord-brother was trying so hard to maintain.

Of course, a large component of this decision may or may not have been influenced by the drowsy heaviness weighing on his mind and limbs from working through the night to finally complete the manual for Ning Yingying.

The self-same piece the girl was looking over now.

He had thought long and hard about what kind of predator to turn Ning Yingying into; something bright and exuberantly colourful on the surface, something fast and agile, deadly but not venomous- no, Shen Qingqiu did not think that Ning Yingying had the hardness of heart to use poisons on her enemies, for all that she played the part of an innocent young girl, it was more an exaggeration than a true mask. (Not yet.)

He had eventually settled on a dragonfly.

The delicate dragonfly, flitting about frivolously across the surface of the lake snapping up prey with precision manoeuvres and deadly jaw strength, disguising the truth of the Hunt from glancing eyes.

As such, he had compiled her manual into training plans for speed, flexibility and dance for physical work as well as a more specialised fighting style, weapons training steps with whips (detailing various types, from chains to ribbons, Immortal Binding Cables to qin strings) and spirit techniques for musical cultivation and the Plucked Leaves Flying Flowers technique beyond the standard guidance to understanding and harnessing to her qi affinity.

He called their attention, "Ying-er, have you looked over the manual?" It had been so long since he last called her as such, this little child entrusted to his care by her mother- a slave sold to become a brothel flower who worked and lived in Madam Cheng's Warm Red Pavilion before sickness took her one winter. Ning Linlin was also the 'Jiu' child of her batch, she used to joke that it made them siblings. She had still smiled even when she lay on her bed, pale and drawn, and asked him to look after the little one who always came tugging on his sleeves and putting roadside weeds in his hair when he visited.

Watching her now, grown so much, gap toothed smile filled in but still as bright and doe eyes sparkling with interest, Yingying was her mother's daughter in every way save the shade of her hair and the curve of her nose.

He wished he could preserve the joy of life her lingering naivety afforded her. But it was not to be.

He wished he could see her grow into the resplendent woman she was meant to be.

But it was not to be.

"Yes, shifu!"

"Does Ning Yingying understand the path that extends before her should follow the steps of this manual? Is Head Disciple Ning prepared to submit the level of work and dedication required to meet the highest expectations of this Master?"

"I am, shifu!"

"Is she fully prepared? At this point in time, she comes to a crossroads and faces a choice; accept the manual and return to her current lessons, learn from it herself and ask for guidance when necessary. Or. She can swear herself to my tutelage as an apprentice. This Master would to take Ning Yingying as a direct disciple and to teach her all that he knows then unleash her to learn all that he does not.

"You must be absolutely certain of this path before you think to accept. I will not allow you to change you to retract this decision later. I will make you bleed. I will make you suffer. I will shatter you and reforge you into something new and powerful. On this path I would teach you strength, but the price is high."

Wide eyes stared at him, he held them squarely.

"Head Disciple Ning is a capable enough disciple to build her own power through self-study and the guidance of her current situation. She does not need to put herself through the second path in blind pursuit of power. But the offer stands. Meditate, and give me your answer."

He rose and left the room for the study, quietly shutting the door behind him.

He knew what she would choose. Linlin's star-bright ambition shone through in her daughter, always had done. Ning Yingying could be impatient in her painting and distractible in her weiqi, but she always listened attentively in lessons, greedy for knowledge. Her essays were well resourced and thoughtful, though her time in the Library was hindered by her excitable nature and obligation to the Peak and her social circles to keep her news networks alive.

After their discussion on the vulnerability of women and spiritual cultivators in the face of covetous scum unscrupulous in their methods for building their own cultivation...

The Skinner demon had been the most recent of dangers she had been at the mercy of and arguably not even the worst of her experiences of that kind on Night Hunts and investigations gone awry, but he had made her understand the true dangers of those situations, beyond simple loss of life.

She trusted him. (Foolishly)

She would take the promise of as much power as he could build in her.

(He wished she would take the other way)

.

.

.

Two figures stood across from each other in an isolated sandy glade in the bamboo forest.

The sun still sat in its rising arc across the sky and their martial robes were dusty. Weapons lay neatly piled to the side while they cycled through fluid motions in perfect synchrony. Arms swept out in broad strokes, legs raising at the knee with poise and elegance before pointed hands flattened into open palms and struck, coiling strikes cutting through the air swift and sure, bodies swept back and low like a tidal flow building in preparation. They surged back into upright positions, gracefully side-stepping unseen blows and moving in easy circular motions with both palms and hooked hands to redirect others, ebbing and flowing, moving seamlessly between offense and defence in their separate, shared set.

The smaller of the pair stumbled.

Immediately, the other went on full offence, accelerating the meditative flow of motions into a full barrage like white water rapids. He was merciless and unyielding, breaking through the girl's guard again and again, cold voice landing harsh verbal blows, snapping to raise you elbow, second form, third, fourth, FASTER! Centre your gravity, lower! POWER, girl! Block it, redirect, your guard is non-existent FIX IT. Better- again! Keep it up- failed. Get up! Starting position, guard, BLOCK- STRIKE- FAILED!

Shen Qingqiu stood over a sweaty, battered Ning Yingying and snarled. "Rise! Stand and face me or fail."

Something like fury flashed through her gentle earth-toned eyes. A spark of determination or an ember of resentful defiance, it was too soon to tell. For her sake he hoped the latter. A wrathful will was harder to break than a hopeful one.

She rose.

"Yes, shifu." She gasped, gulping breaths and swiping sweat away with her sleeve.

He kept his eyes narrowed on hers, trying to ignore the purpling tenderness blooming in the flesh around them and the sickness the sight of it caused in his stomach.

Ning Yingying was not a physical cultivator. Her training to date had not made her break her bones and tear her muscles to 'reforge the body' and further her cultivation in that way, she did not spar frequently in her spare time and was of a decent enough proficiency with the Qing Jing styles to avoid or redirect the majority blows from her peers during class spars.

She was not used to pain. Especially blows to the face. He hated that he was changing that.

(When he had landed that strike, she hadn't taken longer to recover from it than any other hit, but her eyes had shown a fragility. Hurt. Then she blinked the reflexive tears from them and attacked with renewed vigour.)

Yet. Yet, it was working.

With every bruise he dealt her, she grit her teeth and pushed back harder.

Every time he struck at a gap in her defence, she tightened it.

With every move he made, she watched him sharper, reacted quicker, lost lingering hesitance and tried to counter him.

Better and better and better.

(It wasn't enough. When she got stronger… he would start incorporating his tricks and 'dirty' tactics, both to prepare her against them and to teach her how to take a superior opponent and win.)

He pulled his gaze away and checked the position of the sun; they had a short while left before the midday meal was scheduled, just long enough for an armed spar and stretches afterwards. Just as well, his bones and muscles were starting to ache quite insistently.

"Choose your weapon."

She moved towards the weapons at the edge of the clearing, back turned to him trustingly. He'd have to train that out of her- she should always keep awareness of enemies in her vicinity and maintain a line of sight whenever possible. He's start ambushing her and striking in her blind spots once she began expanding her spiritual awareness and learned how to cast an aura.

She turned to face him holding a liuyedao- the willow-leaf saber.

Shen Qingqiu drew his Xiu Ya and raised the straight line of the double edged jian against her.

.

.

.

Ning Yingying groaned as she flumped down into a seat space and stuffed a piece of chicken into her mouth, savouring the texture and taste of the juicy, lightly seasoned meat. Kuang Tingting giggled and cooed as she listed into her side, "Is A-Ying hungry?"

Ning Yingying finished enjoying the piece and swallowed, throwing her friend a baleful glare, "A-Ting shouldn't tease her shijie. Ying-er was training really hard this morning and Tingting mocks her enjoyment of this precious sustenance. For shame, shimei"

Kuang Tingting's hand flew to her chest, clutching at her heart as he swayed and collapsed into a mildly amused Fan Luan, dark eyes laughing, "Shiije, this disciple has committed a grave offense. This impudent shimei has disrespected her Da-jie. What shall this no-good meimei do? This act will stain my honoured line forever! There can be only one absolution! Begging honoured Head Disciple Ning to punish severely!"

Laughter echoed around their table before Kuang Tingting settled and turned to Ning Yingying with a bit more seriousness, "What sort of training were you doing though, shijie? You're bruising a lot."

Ning Yingying shrugged a shoulder, wincing at the achy tug of the muscles there protesting, "Shifu is giving me some private guidance," she said casually, before adding in a wry tone "Ying-er has a long way to go before she reaches Shifu's standards." That had her shimei wincing in good humoured sympathy and offering her commiserations.

Kuang Tingting picked up the thread of conversation after that, skilfully deflected the topic onto teasing Lan Yue about her violet fairy friend, with the flower twins Pei Luli and Lumei joining in to coo at their stoic shijie, watching the pink tint to her cheeks steadily darken.

"Look at our iron tree blooming~"

"And for a 'Sweet Sagittarian Azalea' no less!"

"No, no, how does that other poem say it? Ah, 'Mountain pomegranate, a mountain squat, a rhododendron, and the flowers flutter when the rhododendron sings.'"

"Aiyah, but look at the Lan-shijie's face! Wouldn't shijie's budding romantic heart be her 'Tree Poet Whisperer' and better suited to verses of 'fragile passion' and 'luxurious days spent pondering [her] beauty'?"

"Hey Lan-shijie, does Shu Huiwen make you 'think of home', or do you think more of starting a home with her?"

"Pei-shimeis! Stop sniggering at your shijie. Lan Yue… maybe you should drink some tea. And do some breathing. If your face gets any redder we might have to worry about you Qi Deviating before final lesson, wait, no-! Your Kuang-shije was only teasing, it's not that bad, don't drown yourself in the soup shimei - !"

Ning Yingying relaxed into her seat, enjoying the comfort of good food with good company before her allotted evening lesson of the day and the promise of relaxation afterwards.

Her good mood lasted until just a few moments into Ming Meihua's needlework session, when she was abruptly interrogated by A-Luo and his new shadows Ming Fan and Zhang Hao, just moments after settling herself into the squishy furnishings of Ming-qianbei's lesson room. They fussed and fussed and fussed about the bruises on her face and the stiffness of her movements before she finally snapped at A-Luo.

"A-Luo! Your Ning-shijie is taking new lessons under Shizun's care and instruction. She is learning new skills and improving her combat and cultivation skill, she had a hard morning training today and got a bit hurt, but tomorrow she will do better and get hit less and she keep working hard until she is so strong that she can't be hit or trapped or, or disrespected. She. Is. Fine."

His striking sky dark eyes widened and seemed to gain a thousand glistening stars as he hunched in on himself, fluffy curls drooping like she'd scolded an innocent, sweet puppy and then kicked it into a cold and muddy puddle. She certainly felt like he had.

A sharp glance from Ming-qianbei silenced her before she could soften herself and make her apologies, the Zhang Hao cut in, "What are you learning under private instruction?" Turning her attention to him in relief as a distraction from her spark of temper, she missed the slightly worried look that passed between Luo Binghe and Ming Fan before they joined in on the quiet conversation about the distance weaponry and qi techniques mentioned in her personalised manual.

It only at the end of the shichen, once their lesson on embroidering simple drying talisman onto handkerchiefs had ended and all the materials were packed away, that a niggling thought resurfaced. "Oh! That reminds me- A-Luo, Shizun sent for you to come to the Bamboo House after lessons."

Message delivered, she bid farewell to the three boys and trotted off along the path towards the female dorms, stepping off once she neared one of the small glades hidden within the tall, green bamboo stalks. Here, she carefully retrieved her new manual from a small blue qiankun pouch tied at her waist- the one decorated with pretty pink lotuses that shifu gave her on turning ten.

Carefully sifting through the pages, Ning Yingying spared a moment to cry in her heart at the elegant beauty of shifu's calligraphy compared to her own messy, over-bold hand, then settled into the beginning stance of her Feathered Snake style. Shifting through the movements, she wondered again at the style of the- half familiar sweeping motions and bird beak hand strikes of the Qing Jing crane styles, half subtle coiling and inconspicuous shifting of balance before lighting burst releases of tension striking with pin-point accuracy like she'd observed on some of the Xian Shu training fields.

Finishing the sequence once, then again as fast as she could, then again but really slow and controlled, Ning Yingying sat down in the middle of her small clearing and tried to relax her mind and sink into meditation, to reabsorb some of the energy she'd expended in training which had 'temporarily heightened the ambient qi field', which is easier to cultivate in since it wants to go from its higher concentration down to match its surroundings and Ning Yingying is lower than her surroundings at the moment, even more than she usually is and its her energy, or was, so it should be easier to get back-

Focus Yingying.

Right. Focus on the breathing- drawing even breaths in…out…filling the lungs. Relax and open to the world around her. Feel the qi circulating in her meridians, drawing more in from the air, through her lungs, through her skin, into muscle and bone, gathering more brightly at every aching stretch and tender bruise, easy-flowing from her kata, from the familiar-unfamiliar movements. Soon they would be all be familiar, every stance and strike, block and parry. Maybe she could get a spar on Xian Shu to exchange pointers. Maybe she could even ask Liu- shimei…

…And that's definitely getting off track now.

Meditation was going to take a while.

.

.

.

Shen Qingqiu eventually rose from his numbing soak in the Quiet Pool and redressed, calling his faithful Xiu Ya to his hand, the sight of it sorely missed sparkling in the light of day for having spent so long sheathed next to his soul. He spent a moment just admiring it- the perfect moon white of the long blade, the shimmering colours refracted in the silver and fire opal masterfully shaped into the hilt, guard and pommel.

Xiu Ya. The noble white blade set with stones denoting devotion and fidelity, the burning fire of human spirit, hope, lightning and noble generosity. There was great incredulity in the Halls and forges of Wan Jian that the arrogant scum Shen Jiu had drawn a blade who's imbued properties caused spiritual unrest in selfish souls, stirring anxiety, agitation in the aura and nightmares with sufficient exposure.

Then, of course, one grey-robed swordsmith divulged that fire opal stones could also aid thieves in their pursuits by blurring their aura with its rainbow hues so as to be unrecognisable as a human soul and thus undetectable to the subtle senses and active notice of those around them. This, to the minds of Cang Qiong, made far more sense and so it was decided that Shen Jiu corrupted the noble and righteous purpose of his bonded spirit sword, earning him more social disdain within the Sect and the distant enmity of Wei Qingwei.

He sighed and sheathed his Xiu Ya at his waist. The weight of it at his side was almost too unfamiliar, as was the uncomfortable absence in his higher plane, intangible form where Xiu Ya usually lay guarding his spine.

He rolled his shoulders. It is what it is, and he would never trade Xiu Ya for another blade simply for an incrementally improved reputation, so in the end it matters not. He could do nothing to change it and would not if the opportunity presented itself.

Returning to the Bamboo House anticipating a quiet shichen of completing paperwork, he did not anticipate the short and scrawny form robed in the pale blues of An Ding to be waiting for him outside his front door, arms folded around a deep wicker basket holding thick scrolls and thicker leather tomes. Nor did he appreciate the surprise.

Shang Qinghua shifted as Shen Qingqiu approached him, as he was wont to.

Shen Qingqiu casually adjusted his grip on Xiu Ya, making his shidi's gaze dart to it and away, his blank, stretched smile straining further. "Shang-shidi, what brings the An Ding Lord here? All the way to this master's doorstep. Unannounced."

Shang Qinghua hefted his basket slightly higher up his chest- as both a pointed statement and a meagre shield against Shen Qingqiu's displeasure.

As if there were no rumours whispered in shadows of the Armoured Puppeteer of the demonic North.

The Fourth Lord's head ducked in false, amiable contrition, doe brown eyes peering up at him through his lashes, "Ah, Shen-shixiong, this one has gathered some reference outlines on the structural format of the Council of Hallmasters of each Peak. Mu-shidi made this one aware that Shen-shixiong might be interested in such documents and suggested that this one take the initiative, as soon as convenient, and not wait for shixiong's asking."

Shen Qingqiu hummed in equally false, light contemplation, "Well, if Mu-shidi determined this endeavour necessary, then surely these Lords have no choice but compliance."

His shidi's smile took a more natural, sardonic curve, feeling safer with proof of Shen Qingqiu's comparatively good mood and a shared 'enemy' between them to blame for this encounter. He nodded, slightly more vigorously than necessary, causing the front piece of his hairstyle to slip from its place behind one ear. He then made a good showing of awkwardly manoeuvring his burden into one arm to free a hand to fix it. Strugglingly.

Shen Qingqiu was almost tempted to inform his shidi that there was, in fact, no one nearby to observe these theatrics and this performance was, thusly, quite unnecessary. But that would be showing his steps before time in this little dance of theirs, so he led his shidi into the Bamboo House and shut the door behind them.

And the game was set.


Notes:

• NYY's Feathered Snake style based on Tai Chi Chuan, a mix between Crane and Snake styles. Pretty much entirely based on an article on it called 'Tai Chi Chuan – The Snake and Crane Art of Kung Fu'. Also, Xian Shu uses snake-similar styles now.
• 'Cast an aura'- low level localised qi field, infusing the person's already present aura and bringing it down to the physical plane to sense energy currents etc. Can also infuse intent into it such as Killing Intent, can be extended by will-power, practice and fine-control.
• "Iron tree blooming"- an idiom for a very ascetic, reserved person falling in love.
• Azaleas: symbol of womanhood, temperance and a death threat due to toxicity. Quotes: Bai Juyi's "Mountain Pomegranate Sending Yuan Jiu" pomegranates line and Du Fu's "A Sea of Blood Red Azaleas." was for the rest, whose work immortalised azalea as the thinking home bush|xiang shu.
• And yes, I did reference osmosis/diffusion to justify xianxia fantasy magic qi physics. My metal gymnastics: Its why its easier for disciples to cultivate in more qi rich environments because it flows into them, but at higher levels (golden core formation/seniors/Hallmasters/Peak Lords) it gets progressively more difficult to gather qi (against the gradient), so they go to LXCaves- a higher density environment again.