Cultivating Chai

31:

Xiao Feng was surprised to find that his heart rate had picked up, as he stood before the double-doors that led to the training rooms.

Is this my own reaction or is this a side-effect of absorbing Xiao Feng’s memories? Is it trepidation I feel, or anticipation? He considered warily. What will happen to me if I cannot fight? What will happen to me if Elder Haoyun finds out? He wondered.

Maybe he could explain away the loss of skill due to the grievous nature of the injury he had suffered. But was that enough? The continent of Tian was not a peaceful land. Xiao Feng could choose not to fight, but that was no guarantee that violence would not find its way to him.

For he was still a member of the Frontier Sect and the Alchemy Division was only separated by a few hours from the border his predecessor had given his life to defend.

If that happens, Xiao Feng mused. I don’t want this place to fall, He thought. The Alchemy Division was his new home, the only home he had left. It was the place where his ambitions could mold themselves into reality, the place where he had more than qualified teachers willing to dedicate their precious time to him.

To cast away his martial origin and roots entirely, was to accept a reality where he could not fight back against those that wished to take what belongs to him.

I guess I need to find out, Xiao Feng thought, as he pushed open the doors to the training rooms.

Unlike the small antechamber Alchemist Jun watched over the Alchemy vaults from, the reception area of the training rooms was a large, oblong room. A cultivator dressed in pure white robes, besides a silver threaded embroidered patch that depicted a sword crossed against an arrow, was calmly sitting behind a lacquered wooden desk directly opposite himself.

Xiao Feng’s breathing relaxed. His knees slightly lowered, his upper body leaning forward as his hand reflexively snaked to the hilt of his blade, Windcarver. His gaze took in the cultivator on the other side of the room with exacting precision, ready to be unsheathed at the slightest hint of movement.

“Excellent reaction,” The cultivator who undoubtedly belonged to the Martial Division, praised. “Too good, in fact, for an alchemist. That must mean that you are Xiao Feng,” He declared with a poise that told Xiao Feng that he was being expected by this man.

“You flared your Qi on purpose,” Xiao Feng accused, his expression clearly unamused.

“I did. What of it?” The Martial Division cultivator asked in a matter-of-fact tone. “Have you forgotten, Xiao Feng? The demons lurk in the shadows, that is why we must be especially aware when we tread on the light.”

“I have not,” Xiao Feng replied, knowing that a martial cultivator had to be especially prepared for combat when he thought himself most safe.

“I am sure you have not, Xiao Feng the Undying,” The Martial Division cultivator replied, using the title Elder Haoyun had bestowed upon him.

“Who are you?” Xiao Feng asked, even though the answer was rather obvious at this point.

“I am merely a peak-layer foundation establishment cultivator appointed to oversee the training sessions of alchemists. I have seen war, like you, if you are curious. That makes me qualified to teach even core-formation alchemists, well, if they are willing to learn,” He chuckled wryly at his own words.

“I take it that they are not too interested?” Xiao Feng asked, thinking back on what he knew of the Alchemy Division.

“A few are. Some see it as exercise, others as a good way to refine their Qi control, which is essential to alchemy. Most, however, are unfit for a battlefield,” He stated the truth with a hint of disappointment in his words.

“I see,” Xiao Feng replied, not surprised.

“Well, I take it you are here to book a training room,” The Martial Division cultivator guessed.

“Yes.”

The martial division cultivator opened the second drawer from the top, plucked out a key and tossed it to Xiao Feng.

He caught it with ease.

“How did you know that I had transferred over to the Alchemy Division?” Xiao Feng asked.

“Besides the rumors floating around you, Brother Xiao? The Martial Division cultivator who was much older than him replied with a rhetorical jest before continuing, “Elder Haoyun told me before you arrived. Told me to look out for you where I could, but that was rather unnecessary.”

“Well, how much do I owe you?” Xiao Feng asked, unsure what the martial division cultivator meant by unnecessary. Maybe he dislikes nepotism or something, He thought, wondering.

“Owe me?” The Martial Division cultivator asked, his tone sounding incredulous. “Even without Elder Haoyun’s request, I would not take even a single bronze tael from a cultivator who bled for the Frontier. As for a war hero? That will not happen as long as I remain standing,” He declared, the iron in his tone enough to inspire respect in the hearts of men and women under his command.

“Will that not get you in trouble with the Alchemy Division?” Xiao Feng asked, a bit concerned. Money was not an issue for the current him and if it helped avoid trouble for a potential ally, well, the answer was right there.

“Were you considering how much trouble you would get in if you broke through the demonic army’s ranks and caused chaos that led to the turning point in the war?” The Martial Division cultivator asked him in return.

“Touché,” Xiao Feng conceded. “Would you at least tell me your name?”

“I am Cultivator Lei Jiao. I did not participate in the most recent war, rather the one before that. Unlike you, I am presently untitled. The next time I face the demons though, that will change,” He declared, his tone carrying a bravado that had actual weight to it.

After he had taken the keys from Cultivator Lei, Xiao Feng found himself in a wide chamber whose floor and walls were padded with sponge-like cushions that undoubtedly had some special properties.

The bouncy and uneven terrain added another small challenge to navigating his way across the chamber, but any true martial cultivator would only welcome it.

Xiao Feng was the only one behind a now locked door, which was odd, considering martial cultivators always trained in pairs and training sessions were done with many cultivators going up against each other in rotating schedules.

Unfortunately, he had no one but himself to practice with.

He closed his eyes.

Xiao Feng focused on his breathing, felt the gentle, unattuned Qi in his dantian, held the wild Wind Qi in place that also had a place in his dantian.

He unsheathed his blade, feeling the resonance with the Wind Qi in dantian almost immediately.

His blade hungered for his Wind Qi reserves.

Xiao Feng was almost there.

The trance-like state his predecessor used to fall in while training, as he let the world slip by him— his thoughts, his worries, his considerations, holding no weight in the battlefield. Only the next move, the next action, the next swing of blade mattered.

To achieve such a state while his eyes were open was beyond Xiao Feng, but maybe this way, he could reach it.

To his surprise and then shock, something wholly unexpected happened.

His eyes were closed and even his essence cultivation art would not work with closed eyes.

Yet, he saw.

He saw a person before him. Dressed in pure white robes that many in the martial division preferred.

“I thought,” The man standing before him spoke, his tone, inflection and pitch identical to his own yet somehow carrying more intent behind his words. “I had swung my blade for the last time. It seems the heavens feel that I have more to give, still.”