"I-I'll fight you."
One last sacrifice stepped forward. A timid voice rang out, barely loud enough to be heard. In the stories, she would have been a beauty beyond compare, one that sank fish and enticed birds to fall, eclipsing the moon and shaming flowers. Unfortunately for Yi Qianyun, none of those descriptions fit her. Before the master of kung fu known only as Wufei, Qianyun might as well been rice for harvesting.
That fact terrified her, but there was no one else left to step forward. Those that remained were younger then she, and those older could not fight. If she fell, then it was the fate of the village, it seemed, to die. A fate that seemed more and more likely by the second. A tragic doom, but not an unlikely doom. Once the village was slain, the excess of another village would likely move in to take to the fields in their place, and the deadly cycle of twelve years would continue.
The day of the dragon had arrived. The terror of witnessing the same twelve years ago did not stop her. Trembling hands lifted from her sides, fingers curling into fists, as she locked eyes with Wufei. A deep breath in, slowly leaving her lungs. The way of the birds, before they struck the rodents in the fields.
If only one could learn kung fu from watching the birds, she lamented, then perhaps she would be a master. Alas, all she was a master of was writing silly jokes and poetry on the margins of the bamboo paper that stock was taken on.
"Is this a joke?" Wufei's voice was almost dark. "Where are your men and women of burden?"
"Dead. You killed them all." The answer was blunt, tumbling out of Qianyun's lips immediately. Her voice was soft, from terror or from disuse, it could not be said.
"I see. How many winters?"
"Sixteen."
"Of the rat, then. Show me." Wufei's stance deepened, as his lungs expanded and contracted. Show him? Show him what? Qianyun might have daydreamed on a particularly boring day of the day that the masters and immortals in the rite of the dragon would be vanquished and the village freed of its terror for another twelve years, but in the end, they were just that, flights of fancy. Now, most of her friends were dead. Killed at the hands of this man, his skin tanned into a harsh brown, his eyes hard and his muscles like stone. The mastery he possessed of his body was not that of mortals, and the white tiger that glowed behind him, formed of nothing but his Qi, was mesmerising. His stance was perfect, without flaws, one that he could maintain for days on end without batting an eye.
In comparison, Qianyun's stance might as well have been that of a boxer for all the good it would do her. Her hands were high, her feet perhaps a little too close together. However, the kung fu master noted, she had learned something in those sixteen short years. Her weight was on the balls of her feet, and her toes angled towards her intended attack path.
Like a bird. Yes, much like a bird.
It was like a tiger deciding to humour a baby bird for a moment, before it lazily slapped it out of the air and ate it.
"Haaah!" The girl darted forward. A fist flew forward in a clumsy punch, then a second. Wufei's feet swept backwards, his head slipping left and right, only narrowly avoiding each blow. His hands spun, and he stepped forward deep at the third punch, the claw-like hands ripping flesh free as he parried the girl's hand and knocked it far aside.
His foot hooked in behind her leading left foot, and with a press of his knee, she fell over like a stack of books. The mismatch of skill was even more comical then before. The older strongmen had watched the rites before, had an idea of how to fight from watching the masters of kung fu at work. This girl lived on a prayer and some barely remembered horror of years long past. It was almost a bad joke.
Almost.
Qianyun screamed, writhing on the ground and clutching at her bloodied right arm. Wufei's left arm lifted up, as he breathed in deep.
"Tsu!" The ground itself cracked as his left foot stomped down, and his left hand shot to earth. Qianyun did not scream. No, instead, blood left her mouth and side at the pressure of the claw smashing past her and into earth. Even though the limb had only barely clipped her, it had been more then enough to completely silence her and leave her in nothing but shock.
Death. Death was the certain result. All Wufei had to do was bring down his right hand. The next blow would not miss. It had been merely a courtesy, a warning shot, that the left had missed.
But the right fist did not descend. The rat girl's breathing remained steady all the while. In. Out. In. Out. A steady rhythm, that filled the lungs with vital oxygen. Qigong was a concept that most martial artists never truly grasped, a vital first step on the path to becoming an immortal. This girl hadn't mastered it, and in truth, did not even really know it, but even so, she'd taken that very first step that so many others did not.
Indeed, it was the very first step that one looked for in the 'masters' of kung fu to determine who was worthy of the name, who would one day step away from mortality and into the realms beyond. This girl was a gem that a thousand kung fu masters had failed to imitate. An unpolished, unrefined gem, one that would never see its true sheen.
Even among those who could truly learn qigong, only a small percentage of them knew the core of the Jade Emperor's teachings and became a true immortal. The universal truth all wushu led towards was not so easy to grasp.
Wufei's form slowly drew back up to his full height, his foot kicking Qianyun over onto her back, blood dripping down her mouth.
"Master. Was it a mistake?" He asked. Zhou Seifong did not appear to move for a long moment, his lips pursed as he considered.
"What do you believe?" He answered. The other six kung fu masters did not seem to waver, but a glance at their hands revealed they were shaking.
"This farce has gone long enough." Wufei answered. "The village only needed four qili. We could never have taken a tithe on top from them. Five qili is already more then they had to give."
"And who are you to decide what mortals have to give?" Zhou Seifong asked. "Zhou Ma?"
"The village has given five and two fifths of qili." The man holding the scales declared. "It does not balance. They cannot pay to rejuvenate the land."
"And with the girl?"
"… Maybe six qili. Her spirit weighs heavy." Yet Wufei seemed unsatisfied with the answer, glancing to the side and spitting on the ground.
"We are murdering babes now."
"They are sacrifices. Such is the way of the world. Slay her." Zhou Seifong declared. "Next sacrifice!"
No one moved. The instruction was law. The tiger of Wufei's qi stalked around his form, the kung fu master pondering for only a moment.
"I refuse." He declared. "There is nothing left to take. You would slaughter babes and the infirm."
"That is the cruelty of the world." Zhou Seifong answered. "Next sacrifice! Pang Tong. Slay the girl."
"Sir!" Another of the suited masters nodded, bowing slightly, before moving forward. Step upon step upon step, swift, yet dignified. His hand lifted up.
Blood sprouted in a geyser as Wufei's stance deepened. Pang Tong's eyes widened, his sunglasses shattering apart as the flew through the air, his eyes transfixed on the stump of his arm where his forearm used to be. The scream of a mortal kung fu master rang out, then was silenced as the tiger turned and devoured one of its own, Wufei's palm crashing through his ribs, lifting him from the ground for but a moment before he was smashed into the dirt. The ground cracked and groaned under the force of the tiger immortals qi.
No one moved.
No, that was a lie. One man moved, Wufei's form slowly returning into the deep tiger stance he'd begun with.
"I will be sacrifice, then." Wufei declared. The scales in Zhou Ma's hand were in balance. One more qili would tip them in favour of the village. "Send your champion."
A moment passed. Then two.
Then Zhou Seifong laughed. A low, mirth filled thing, reserved only for ancient men who had thought the world had been seen, only to realise that they had really seen nothing at all.
"An immortal, playing at sacrifice?" Zhou Seifong asked. "Well, that is quaint. Liu Long."
"Sir."
"Slay him and you will be taught the secrets of immortality." Between the two men who were actually immortal, such a statement was taken exactly as it was intended; a bad joke. Zhou Seifong had made a declaration beneath his words.
Liu Long was offered as a sacrifice. Nothing else.
The man's suit jacket was stripped away in seconds, as his left leg slammed into the ground, adopting a high stance that could be likened to a fierce boar. His hands spun just once, his feet moving rapidly, as he lunged forth.
Wufei's lungs expanded just once, as Liu Long charged forth. The tiger's foot ground into the earth, cracking it open.
Liu Long's fists moved, flying in a wheel of pain and death. Over and under, over and under, over and under. A chain of death, flying at the head and chest. Wufei's feet were just as fast, sweeping and hopping backwards as his claw-like hands slapping the fists off centre. Cuts and gashes formed on Liu Long's arms as he moved, his breathing harsh and ragged. Each step thundered as they moved, Liu Long's foot stepping out as it swung around to catch Wufei's side.
Wufei's shin lifted to meet it with a crack. Those present winced. Liu Long hissed, now on one leg, lifting the now cracked and injured leg from the ground, adopting a bent knee that was a bastardisation of the crane stance. Wufe's foot slammed on the ground, his breath slowly exhaling.
The time for offence had come. Wufei's back leg swept forward, pulling him inside Liu Long's guard. The master's eyes widened for only a moment before clawed hands slammed through his ribs, lifting him and hurling him bodily to the ground.
Crack.
Liu Long did not move, his neck at an awkward angle from where he'd smashed into the ground. Blood streamed from the holes in his chest. A moment later, Wufei's foot stomped down and ended his miserable existence.
It was to this sight that Qianyun's awareness had returned. The sight of the immortal tiger kung fu master murdering a second of his compatriots. Her breath hitched, as she stared at the strange sight.
An immortal, murdering a master, was not unheard of. In defence of a village? Ludicrous, told of only in story and fairy tales.
"Seven qili." Wufei declared. "Master. The debt is paid."
"Indeed. Was it a mistake?" Zhou Seifong asked, his hand plucking the seven, ethereal blue coins from the scales. His feet settled at the width of his shoulders, bent for just a moment, before his left fist clapped into his right palm, he stepped out, and slowly exhaled, his fist pressing into the ground.
The change was immediate. Dirt seemed to go light, almost green. The little weeds twisted and grew. The water became clean, and the land breathed its breath of life once more.
"… I don't know." Wufei muttered. "I-"
"Then perhaps you should understand mortals a little more. Seek me when you have an answer." Qianyun blinked. In the time she blinked, Zhou Seifong had moved, far from his position at the head of the kung fu masters. No, now he stood behind Wufei. The tiger immortal didn't even have time to blink.
Zhou Seifong's hand swiped out like a knife. Blood sprayed everywhere. Wufei was almost bisected by the single blow, leaving him sprawled on the ground. The elite immortal of the Shui Che Quan watched with impassive eyes, his gaze falling on Qianyun, the people of Yi Li, before finally motioning to his four remaining masters of kung fu.
Then they turned, walking straight through the crowd. None dared stop them, for they had proven their might and upheld their end of the bargain. Qianyun wanted to scream. It all seemed so unfair.
After all, why did all of her friends have to die, if they could simply give their own? What made these men who practised the use of their fists all day so venerated and worthy of protection over those that worked the fields and fed the nation?
It was so very unfair.
"Gua Fong!" Qianyun blinked. Her eyes fell back towards Wufei. Someone, a woman, had called for her son, who had stood over the immortal. The boy was barely eight winters, at a guess. The knife was held high over his head.
"Cut. Devour. Become immortal." He chanted. The old mantra. The mantra of those that believed that slaying an immortal let you take their immortality. "I-if I-"
"No. Let me. This is too great a burden, child." An elderly man spoke up, slowly hobbling forward. The boy did not have the heart of a killer. No one in the village did. Yet the immortal had spared Qianyun. He had the means and the opportunity and had not struck.
Plain old Qianyun. Now the eldest of the young. Between sixteen and forty, there were none in the village anymore.
And there was a debt that must be paid.
[ ] Call out. Scream. Stop. Don't become like them.
[ ] The only way to stop Wufei's death was to attack.
[ ] Write in.
Immortality is wasted on the young and the old. Those that need it, cannot possess it.
- 'Wufei' Hei Laohu
