Wu Fong: Rumors and Realities
Wu Fong - of no relation to the far more famous Wu clan of the Southern Flower Mountain Province - couldn't decide between the scrumptious, fat-dripping pot roast and the thin, stringy, unsalted plate of boiled beans that lay before him.
No, that was a lie, he totally could, he just didn't want to.
"You," he told his roommmate, shaking his finger, as he sat down, legs crossed, on the little porch of their dorm, "are evil."
Each word in that sentence, of which there were but three, dripped and beaded with - let's be generous and call it moisture. Not because he was some sort of unmannered ruffian fresh off the streets, but because life sometimes handed one peaches, and sometimes handed one asshole roommates who took advantage of the fact you had an idiot-proof cultivation method with punishingly harsh dietary restrictions. Them were the breaks.
He eyed the plate of deliciousness warily. It glistened, beckoning him with marbled fat and impeccable sweetness.
Mmm, that smell. That subtle sheen promising juicy, tender explode-in-your-mouth flavor. He'd forgotten the very smell of beef... surely one bite...
Surely... one... bite...
He struggled mightily and succeeded in grabbing the plate of boiled beans, though a thin crack did appear on the green-cast china.
"One day, I will kill you, you know," he told Huang Xi conversationally, picking out some chopsticks.
Huang smiled beatifically. His silvery hair was tied back in a neat-looking ponytail, but the bangs of his hair hid his eyes. "I look forward to the attempt."
Wu ate another bean, even if it had merely been boiled, it had still been cooked to a rare degree of perfection. It had juice and it had flavor. You learned to appreciate these things, eating nothing but plants for several months.
"I heard your cousin broke through to yellow," he said conversationally, chopsticks around another bean. He deliberated his next few words, knowing Huang would see them for the attempt to provoke him that they were. Every day they played this game.
"You must be very proud."
Huang made a face. It was the sort of face you couldn't really describe unless you had ssen real antipathy before, the raw hate generated by a potent fear. It only lasted an instant, but Wu knew what he had seen.
It looked like the branch houses and the main houses of the Huang family still had not quite made up. Grandma would be interested, no doubt.
Huang temporized by picking up his chopsticks and picking up an appetizing slab of meat off his own plate and chewing oh, so, sloooowly.
Bastard.
"He did," Huang finally said.
"Quite an accomplishment to do so before the truce ends," Wu observed.
Chewing sounds filled the room like the explosion of firework cannons used by mortals to ward off a spirit beast attack.
"Brother Da... does not follow convention. Any convention."
"Are you telling me that rumor he got into a fight is true?" Wu asked, mock-scandalized.
"I couldn't possibly comment. It is not like Brother Da comes to me for help," Huang said primly. Then he sighed. "Brother Wu, let us speak of other matters."
Wu nodded, graciously accepting the win. "Of course."
"Who do you suppose will win Elder Su's little contest?"
Wu was too well-bred to wince, but it was a close thing. It was no secret that he had tried, week after week, to gain the qi foundation pill, but also no secret that week after week he was drummed out of the top 5 spots by his competition. It wasn't that he slacked or loafed or otherwise wasted his time: he cultivated diligently and intensely day after day. And day after day he made incremental progress while the geniuses rushed ahead.
He knew them all now. The famous Gan boy, hanging off Cai's sleeve like a loudly lovesick puppy, Huang Da, his roommate's famously eccentric cousin, Li Suyin, mousy and rumored to be winning either through favoritism or some secret cooperative super cultivation method. Two - Ji Rong and Ling Qi - had come out of nowhere. There were already talks about putting an unofficial bounty on Ji Rong's head, his talent was the sort seen once in a generation: fearsome and undeniable and needed to be crushed.
Ling Qi, on the other hand, had wisely, made some powerful friends, and had not as consistently won her pill. Now, no one was certain if her talent was real or feigned. It was said the Bai's started cultivation early, abusively early, risking the child's life for the sake of power. A commoner, raised as her secret bodyguard, trained in arts since childhood, pretending to struggle from the bottom up... it was not inconceivable.
Unlikely, but not inconceivable.
If he were a guessing man...
"If Ji Rong, Li Suyin, or Ling Qi make it to yellow, they're guaranteed a win. If they don't... then the game becomes fairer. Huang Da has a solid shot, as does Gan Guangli if he ascends."
"Not Brother Wu?"
He sighed and shook his head.
"Don't be daft." He shoved the last string bean into his mouth, and bowed in retreat, acknowledging his loss. "Thanks for the meal. I think I'll go take a nap."
He meant to. He sincerely did.
But he ended up cultivating instead.
