Cultivating Chai

32:

“How?” He asked, his tone echoing forth the shock he felt.

“You know how,” The white-robed Xiao Feng calmly replied. “I am not really here, yet I stand before you,” He explained, his tone sounding introspective.

“I don’t know what that means,” He replied, as his hands and consequently, his blade, trembled from the shock of what he was seeing.

“Hmm,” The white-robed Xiao Feng hummed in thought as he unsheathed his own blade and assumed a combat stance. “Are you familiar with visualization techniques?” He asked.

“Myth,” He replied from the bank of memories he had inherited.

“Perhaps,” The white-robed Xiao Feng conceded. “However, our current situation is rather similar to its myth. You wished for perfect calm, sought a refuge in your own mind—away from the troubles and whims of reality. Away from materialism and the glory. Away from it all. There, you found yourself… and me.”

“So it’s like a side-effect of absorbing your soul?” He asked, a bit dazed by the concept. What did that mean for his own sense of self?

“Exactly like a side-effect,” The white-robed Xiao Feng confirmed. “I am a recreation from your mindscape, the embodiment of all memories you inherited from the original Xiao Feng. I reside in your mind, but I do not belong there. That is why I stand before you.”

“I….” He trailed off, uncertain how or what to feel about that.

“Do not waver,” The white-robed Xiao Feng’s tone turned stern as addressed him. “Like you have inherited my memories and skills, I know everything that is to know about you by virtue of existing in your mindspace. So understand the source of hesitation, born from what you believe to be kindness.”

“I’m sorry,” He replied, his tone heavy with guilt. He could not even begin to understand how the white-robed Xiao Feng felt, memory recreation or not.

“Do not be sorry, child from Earth,” The white-robed Xiao Feng shook his head. “I am here because I lost on the battlefield. I have no regrets, nor qualms. But I do have a question. I was defeated, so why am I here?”

He did not know how to respond to that, so he chose silence.

“But now, seeing you, considering your actions over the last few days, I understand,” The white-haired Xiao Feng revealed. “Do you know what my greatest weakness was, in the end? Why I lost?”

“I-I’m not— I don’t know,” He stuttered in reply.

“I possesed a cause in me that burned the most brightly when I was facing the greatest of darkness, because the cause was worth dying for. This gave me strength that befuddled the notions of what others thought possible. Yet I lost. I lost, not because my Essence Cultivation Art was not strong enough or I did not plan thoroughly enough, no. I lost because I did not understand that a cause worth dying for also has to be one worth living for, even more strongly.”

“That’s— I see,” He replied, a tone of awe in his words as he confronted a realization that had required a lifetime to arrive at.

“Do you like the Alchemy Division?” The white-robed Xiao Feng asked him.

“I do, very much,” He replied earnestly.

“Do you wish for the strength to protect it?” The white-robed Xiao Feng asked, his tone rising in intensity by a notch.

“Yes,” The words escaped Xiao Feng’s lips before he realized it.

“Then perhaps, you will be able to master a sword I never was able to,” The white-robed Xiao Feng mused, as his knees bent even further, poised to burst into motion.

“What sword is that?” He asked.

“A sword that is struck with intent to protect instead of kill. Now brace yourself, child of Earth. The heavens have bestowed upon me a second chance and I, Xiao Feng, do not make the same mistake twice,” The white-robed Xiao Feng declared, his tone carrying an unnerving intensity.

He watched as the white silhouette blurred forward at speed that rivaled what his own physical body was capable of at its peak. He cycled the spiritual Qi resting in his dantian to the meridians in his arms and legs, hitting as many acupuncture points in the process as he could.

Even then, it was all he could do to block the white silhouette’s wild slash in time.

There should have been no impact when their blades collided. The white-robed Xiao Feng wasn’t really there… right?

It certainly did not like it as his own blade was stopped in its tracks and then, with a jerk on the opposing side, pushed backwards. The impact was real, the sound of clanging swords was real but there was certain dreaminess to it. It was not a blade that had intercepted his own, but rather, a memory of a blade intercepting another that was being played back by his own mind.

Does this mean I will feel pain if I get cut? He wondered and his expression darkened almost immediately. That was certainly something his predecessor would relish inflicting upon him, if it meant he would get stronger, faster.

The white-robed Xiao Feng was relentless as he followed through with two thrusts of his blade. The first one, he barely dodged while backpedaling. The second was batted away by a desperate swipe of his own blade, lacking any of the grace his opponent’s had.

He dived. He ducked. He dodged. The martial forms he was trying to imitate collapsed as the white-robed Xiao Feng pressed him faster and faster, to the point where muscle memory was all he could rely upon.

Finally, the inevitable happened and a slash sneaked past his guard, aiming for his right leg.

If I try hard enough, I can probably wake up and dispel this, He thought, entertaining the possibility because it sounded much better than the alternative. No, no. I asked for this. I can’t run now—-

His eyes went wide as the moment to think passed and pain flooded his right leg. He collapsed onto the floor like a kite with its strings cut, both arms clenched tightly as he wished desperately to be freed from a memory of his predecessor being wounded in battle.

“Oh please, don’t writhe on the floor,” The white-robed Xiao Feng slightly grimaced as he took in the state he had left him in.

“Why?” He croaked out, noting that it was an unnatural expression for his predecessor to have. He had expected some gloating along with a lesson.

“You have a guest. I guess this will suffice for an introductory lesson,” The white-robed Xiao Feng said, before shrugging a bit helplessly.

The state of focus he had fallen into, shattered and he returned to the real world.

He was sprawled across the training room’s floor, his forehead matted with sweat, his robes drenched much in the same way.

Oh, He thought, as the realization came. I wasn’t actually taking out loud, I was just thinking and that was enough. Now… what guest?

He turned his gaze towards the entrance of the room and finally noticed an alchemist designate who seemed to have accidentally stumbled upon the wrong training room.

His expression was pale and their hands were slightly trembling, as he gazed at him with the same fright one would an ambushing demon.

“Uhhhh, hi?” Xiao Feng offered.

The alchemist designate, who was a foundation establishment cultivator much like himself, shamelessly ran away without looking back even once.