Immortal Foundations (Xanxia, Original setting)

currently Fan Zhong is our protagonist however he was indisposed this chapter so we settled for his mothers POV, Xing Zheng was a character I came up with during storyboarding and ultimately decided to stow away for a later date however I loved his intro so much I simply had to write it and thus ended up writing what became the prologue. If you did like him and his rain themed sword style your in luck he will be coming back at some point in the future however currently we have some world building to do to catchup to his level of power and stage of the world.
Xing Zheng's origin story doesn't fit as a prologue then. If he's meant to (eventually) be a mentor to Fan Zhong, his story should come after Fan Zhong meets him and starts training under him so that we (the audience/readers) understand the context of Xing Zheng's mentorship/teaching/training of Fan Zhong. Fan Zhong doesn't necessarily need to know those things (and there are mysterious mentor tropes that can be exciting to read).
 
Part 1. Ch 5. The Will to fight
Fan Zhong awoke to a feeling of softness and warmth all around him as consciousness slowly seeped into his mind. Upon opening his eyes he was greeted by the sight of his mother cradling the upper half of his body in her arms while the rest of him was laid across a bundle of blankets. The piercing silver eyes of his mother carried a warmth he was unaccustomed to seeing with all of the worry to match.

"Mother? Where am I? What happened to Wang Qiang?" Fan Zhong managed to spit the words out after gathering his thoughts

"Shhh… you're hurt Zhong'er. Your friend is fine and resting now" Fan Yahui's voice carried the same tenderness and warmth as her eyes. She spoke quietly as if Fan Zhong were a delicate piece of jade that might break from the slightest bit of force.

Before passing out the last thing he remembered was the impending death about to rain down on the enemy reinforcements that had arrived in the Flowing Grass Field. Wang Qiang had been unconscious high in the tree and he had spent all of his energy, and seemingly more than that given his martial arts skills, defeating a single foe. At that time he had simply given himself up for dead before his mother had arrived like a hero out of a story.

Remembering the events leading up to that Fan Zhong realized he had killed a man for the first time that day. The remarkable thing was he felt… nothing? Growing up Fan Zhong had heard many stories of men throwing up on the spot or going into a deep depression when killing for the first time. However, oddly enough he felt no great passion upon this realization, was there something wrong with his mind?

He supposed it must be because the actions were justified. What was he supposed to do? Hold his neck out and ask for it to be cut cleanly. Although violence was no great pastime of his, suicide was also not something he felt any close kinship with. With this, it seemed logical to kill an opponent who was aiming to take his life. Feeling rested enough he pushed himself up into a sitting position and turned to face his mother.

"I'm feeling fine mother, thank you for taking care of this unfilial son. This one hopes he has not brought shame upon your name in this matter." Fan Zhong spoke softly, eyes looking straight down, he truly felt a great shame at having run away to leave Wang Qian's clansmen to die.

If he had just been stronger, had taken his training more seriously just a few months sooner? Perhaps then he would have been fast enough and strong enough to stop the attack that had wounded his friend. Thinking of the danger presented to himself and Wang Qiang caused a fire to burn in him, a fire filled with self-loathing and anger that wished only to kill those who orchestrated such events.

" Little Zhong, look at me" his mother gripped his chin raising his eyes to meet hers "there is no shame in fleeing a battle one cannot win. There were over a hundred enemies chasing you altogether. I very much doubt you could have fended them off even if your martial arts were stronger by even two realms. Truly I must praise you, how did you manage to defeat the first one? By my estimate, he must have been at least the peak of the Third-Grade realm if not a step into the Second-Grade realm, a troublesome opponent for someone with a week of training… Especially someone who would rather spend the end of that week slacking off." her last words were reproachful and suited the image of his strict mother much better than the warmth and empathy he had first felt.

Fan Zhong had never been incredibly close with his mother, she had many duties to attend as the matriarch of the observer lineage within the clan and as such was usually training disciples or arranging missions and assignments for them. It was not that Fan Yahui was a cruel mother either in moments such as these where she had genuine cause to worry about the wellbeing of her children she was always attentive and caring to a degree. However, whether from the influence of the techniques she cultivated or simply from her personality his mother had never been one to be intimately personal even with family preferring to act as a strict monitor who had high expectations for members of the house.

In a way, Fan Zhong had always felt like his mother never stopped doing her job as an observer. So ingrained was the profession in her that the line between her duties and her person was seamlessly blended. This was why he had been slightly confused to find her personally attending him when he awoke.

With how busy she was it would not be strange for either a clan warrior or observer disciple to be set to watch for when he woke. Although he was surprised it filled his heart with a genuine feeling of gratitude that he had been personally doted on by his mother. Even if that did conjure minor embarrassment at such childish feelings pervading his mind.

"It was… as if my body moved on its own. Honestly, mother, if asked to repeat such a feat I doubt the heavens would allow it, a pure stroke of luck, it must have been." Fan Zhong's gaze wavered as he answered, he remembered that accompanying that palm strike had not simply been his feelings of martial prowess, shame blossomed in his stomach at recalling the negative emotions he felt towards his family and life that had been channeled through him at that moment. It was almost all he could do to avoid retching his empty stomach up on the spot at the memory.

"Dao resonance then? Truly son it is the misfortune of the heavens you hold little interest in the martial path, experience a resonance with the Eternal Dao in the moments of death? Something out of those heroic legends you enjoy hearing from the storytellers. Alas, I know your inclinations. However, there is a problem, having killed a clan enemy at a ranked martial realm this should qualify you for your Third-Grade realm ceremony in the clan. Thus your training requirements are fulfilled and your father and I have no say to hold you in the training grounds with your elder brother. Since you have bloodied your hands in service of the clan you are due the title and privilege as a full-grown man, rest well and we shall have your ceremony tomorrow night. From now whether you choose to continue your training or not is your decision, think on it while you recover" Rising to go as she finished speaking Fan Yahui wordlessly sat down a bundle next to Fan Zhong.

As she left Fan Zhong examined his mother and their surroundings. His mother was fair as ever with skin as pure as jade and raven black hair that seemed to swallow even night itself. With her movements grace exuded outward every single step natural as her perfect hair flowed behind her in a soundless motion while her azure golden martial arts robes seemed to follow the same motion as if one with her body. Even from the side, the piercing silver of her eyes seemed to remove all barriers, seeing all secrets and knowing all things.

Around him were normal dull furnishings of the training huts that sat atop the cliff he had been training on with Fan Cheng what seemed like an age ago now, although, in reality, it had only been two days. His bedroll sat at the back center wall of the room with torches burning in either corner, to his left on the opposite wall was the door leading out to the training clearing as well as a small writing desk in the corner of the far wall. The remaining corner of the room stood empty with only the sight of the tightly layered green bamboo that made up the hut visible. Having taken stock of his surroundings, and seeing it dark outside leaving him no time in the day to do anything else, Fan Zhong pulled the rather large cloth sack containing the bundle of objects onto his lap and undid the string keeping it closed.

Contained within the bundle was a set of calligraphy tools, one of his favorite hobbies. He remembers spending many nights staring at the stars in the sky and emptying his mind before spending all night practicing his calligraphy over and over again to master the most minute details of the characters. When doing so the feeling was a cathartic calm that washed over him, the grinding of the ink, the movement of the instruments, and the finished product. Every step was distinct yet somehow seemed to flow into each other adding up to more than the sum of their parts.

Next in the bundle was his lute, an instrument he had learned to play on account of Fan Yong. At first, the 4 string lute had not come easy to him, although repetition was something his calligraphy had accustomed him to, the endless playing of scales and basic rhymes to learn the rote basics of music had dulled him in a way akin to martial arts training. However, unlike martial arts, with music Fan Zhong was fascinated by the end result of learning an instrument. Hearing complicated melodies and tones mixed and infused together had always fascinated him even from the first time he attended the first zither recital he had met Fan Yong at.

Thus with much effort, as well as encouragement from his close friend, Fan Zhong had carefully mastered the fundamental notes and fingering necessary to play the lute resulting in a whole new world of music opening up to him. It had taken him 4 years to satisfy the private tutor hired by his parents enough to convince the old man to teach him how to start composing his own simple works. At this point, Fan Zhong had truly become a tiger gaining wings and the musicians in the village had taken notice of him.

Even though the basics had taken him 4 years to learn it only took a year of composing music for his works to be known by all of the circles that took interest in such things. Once his works became known he started holding regular recitals inviting all of the local musicians to hear the songs he composed. Sometimes these recitals were solo affairs and other times he had roped Fan Yong into doing duet pieces with him, once they had even roped Wang Qiang into singing as part of a song much to his chagrin.

Setting aside the lute Fan Zhong noted that there was a separate smaller bundle within the first, opening it revealed a set of plant fiber handwraps like those he saw the warriors of the clan use as well as a small booklet titled "Fan clan palm style fundamentals 9 palms subdue the 9 heavens". He knew what the handwraps were as his brother had earned them upon becoming a clan warrior as well.

They were mortal magical treasures created from the fibers of the Flow Grass natural treasures that grew on the banks of the river, normally those used were 100 years old and provided a 5% boost to water and wood-aligned techniques. More importantly, the hand wraps had been strengthened by the energy they absorbed and were harder and stronger than any normal steel or metal while also being flexible as they were original strands of grass. This meant when clan warriors hand them on meeting enemy weapons with palm techniques without worry of injuring their hands.

Looking at the hand wraps and manual Fan Zhong pondered the choices in front of him, of his parents his mother was far more supportive of his non-marital pursuits. In fact, she and his little sister had attended all of his lute recitals and even recommended his calligraphy pieces to their friends allowing him to earn pocket money from his work. With this in mind, he was sure she had not meant to force him into any one path, this bundle however was left as a subtle hint that this was a choice he had to make and an important one.

Would he stay weak the rest of his life allowing others to take on these dangerous burdens even if those others were his loved ones and friends? The other road was a grueling one, a trail that would drain much of the joy from his life and require him to shoulder the heavy duty he disdained so much. Was he strong enough to do so? Did he have the will for such a fight?

Firming his resolve Fan Zhong slowly unfurled the neatly wrapped handwraps and put them on, standing and falling into the family stance for the family palm style. At that moment he had made his choice. Upon leaving his training room hut Fan Zhong had found a set of golden martial arts robes folded neatly on a bench near the door, another item afforded to him with the official promotion to Third-Grade warrior he assumed. After taking a quick jog around the clearing and stretching he turned in for the night mentally preparing for the festivities to come.

Late the next afternoon Fan Zhong arrived at a staircase slightly above the base of the cliff that led into a clearing a few minute's walk from the village gates. All morning clan members had been rushing to and fro to prepare for this event and he had been confined to the training clearing! So much for freedom earned by his new title.

Alas, he understood, with the trouble that had occurred last time he left the village on a morning jog it was reasonable that his mother and father wished for him to remain somewhere he could be observed for the time being. While waiting he had been accompanied by Fan Yong of all people who had been allowed in the main family training grounds as special permission to keep him company. By speaking to him, Fan Zhong had learned much of what transpired the day he fought the black-robed assailants.

Apparently, the Wang clan convoy Wang Qiang had been leading back to his clan had stumbled upon a large number of these assailants rounding up villagers in small outlying settlements in the area and bringing them to a ritual site. This discovery had been made when they had started to make camp for the night and quickly they were attacked. Originally the party of Wang clan members had been transporting goods back to the clan headquarters along the return by order of their clan leader and as such, they had a sizable force of 50.

However, the black-robed assailants numbered over 200 and seemed to get stronger when one of them cut down or injured an opponent forcing the Wang clan to retreat! When Fan Zhong had found Wang Qiang they had been running for most of the night and obviously lost much of the original force and as such, it was honestly blind luck he had found them at all in time to save even Wang Qiang. After his mother had arrived apparently her fury had descended so viciously upon the remaining enemies that the younger observer disciples and warriors who came to provide reinforcements had directly passed out from the bloodshed they had seen.

Following this Fan Yahui had spent a great deal of time breaking through what was apparently a protective seal put on the mind of the lead assailant in the process almost completely breaking his mind. Afterward, once he started speaking and revealing information his face had twisted and exploded in a shower of blood, it was suspected to be some sort of fail-safe setup by his so-called 'immortal master'.

In truth no one had believed that a vaunted immortal cultivator was behind the man, they were simply a group of trash bandits. Why would someone so powerful need them? If this master could truly destroy this entire mortal duchy that the valley resided in there was no reason to stoop to such means. As such it was assumed the man had been bluffing about this and senior observer disciple groups had been tasked with investigating the matter further, apparently, they were still hard at work.

Unfortunately even with Wang Qiang's guidance to where this ritual site had been all that had been left were hundreds, if not a thousand or more, corpses dried and shriveled up inside a giant pit. Upon investigation these corpses had no wounds and the only possible way the observers could think they had been killed was with some kind of massive airborne poison or some technique to directly rip their souls out.

Neither outcome seemed good, if there truly was someone spreading airborne poison to kill so many who knows when it could carry downwind and have collateral damage! However this was unlikely as the user would have to be incredibly careful to not kill themselves in the process, the assailant group had seemed unorganized not utilizing battle formations or a concrete command structure. Poison was considered simply as the other option was incredibly unsavory… if it were truly the case that meant there was a demonic martial artist preying upon the valley.

Demonic martial artists were reviled by all as they pursued the path of power even at the cost of their humanity. Most demonic arts require killing massive amounts of other people and refining their blood or souls into demonic essence to rapidly increase one's martial arts realm. While advancement is incredibly quick this way, often it draws the ire of others causing the demonic martial artist to be hunted down and killed early on.

Even aside from this demonic martial artists would risk increasing madness and corruption from the demonic essence they refined causing them to go insane. Usually, this manifested in the form of them going completely feral, turning more beast than man, and throwing off any semblance of humanity. Others would become increasingly addicted to killing others and in such a way slaughtering more and more people in the public eye.


With the former they would lose their understanding of martial arts and stagnate their ability to refine essence turning them into another dangerous animal that would terrorize locals, this type tended to live longer. The latter on the other hand would typically go so insane with killing intent that they would directly start killing their way into more and more dangerous strongholds of humanity until they burnt out like a blazing star that shines bright for a brief time.

Quick growth was not the scariest thing about demonic martial artists; however, what was terrifying was that they were rarely solitary practitioners. When tempted with the prospect of advancing in realms so easily and attaining hundreds of years of life span it was said the true measure of righteous men was taken as many failed and fell for this temptation. This led to chaos in regions as many greedy martial artists fought and died over trying to obtain the demonic arts from the dead practitioners quickly breaking down order and society in entire countries. It was not uncommon for an untreated demonic martial artist infestation to cause the collapse of entire kingdoms and even empires that had stood for thousands of years.

The mere thought of demonic arts had made Fan Zhong shudder, both in disgust and in a tiny part deep in his heart a spark of greed mingled with excitement. Quelling these emotions Fan Zhong returned his mind to the present and took in the ceremony grounds that had been prepared down the stairs. 4 Large hastily constructed pavilions ringed around a raised dais that contained a single large table and a few lesser tables on a lower level of the dais.

All around bright torches illuminated the clearing as the leaves of tall bamboo surrounding the clearing rustled with a gentle wind. The flames from the torches actually danced in the air above where they started forming intricate patterns that were set into formation talismans that ringed the entire celebration. Inside these patterns were copies of the songs he had composed and images of his calligraphy work.

Under the pavilions, each had a small stage upon which fair maidens with pure white robes danced with men who wore the shining golden robes of the clan. Besides, the dancers sat musicians holding zithers, drums, lutes, flutes, and even some exotic instruments that Fan Zhong himself did not recognize. Between the entertainers' stages and the tables that lined the outer edges of the pavilions were long tables filled with wines, fruits, and mouth-watering meats.

Smiling he bounded down the stairs running his hands along the golden clan banners that straddled either side of the stairway. His arrival was met with thunderous applause and clan members from all around shouted greetings to him as he took the central path between the two pavilions closest to the stairs making his way to the head table. At the end of the path was a stairway that led up to the raised dais and head table and there sat his entire family, father, and mother, younger sister, younger and elder brother all waiting for him in their finest clothes. As he approached the top his father nodded at him and spoke.

"Fan Zhong, yesterday you were a boy. One who had lived life enjoying the waters of youth, now you have faced the jaws of death in service to your clan and your family. No one who has shown such loyalty can be called a child even if you are still my Little Zhong" with these last words Fan Long smiled and beckoned him forth to kneel in front of him placing a hand on his shoulder "From today forth I proclaim you Fan Zhong warrior of the Fan clan and Third-Grade martial artist recognized by your peers here today, any who reject my claim speak now and I shall defend the honor of our new warrior personally"

Fan Zhong tried to hold in a gasp at these last words, his father had offered to defend him personally. Obviously, there were some who were unhappy with his elevated status from this event and Fan Long had foreseen trouble. It was not abnormal for the title speech to allow challengers to question the bestowment of the clan warrior title however no one took it up, and it was considered a formality and just a courtesy. Even when the title was questioned, traditionally a warrior defended their own claim to the title, it seemed apparent his father was giving preferential treatment to him to ensure this ceremony went smoothly. Upon hearing these words from the clan leader directly dead quiet settled upon the celebration, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. After a few moments of waiting, Fan Long nodded his head feeling he had given ample time for anyone to speak up.

"It is done then, drink and celebrate my son. Today the clan recognizes you as a warrior! Rise and greet your clan as a new man!" Fan Long's voice was enhanced by his Qi this time and boomed over the place causing the entire crowd to burst into a roaring cheer as Fan Zhong stood from his kneeling position.

"Father this son has a small request if you would hear it" Fan Zhong spoke in a calm voice, Fan Long's eyebrows rose in surprise but he nodded and motioned for silence "This son has been unfilial to both mother and father, for too long I have drunk from the waters of youth sown with the blood of our clan's heroes. Too long have I remained muddle-headed neglecting the duties heaven sets forth. Please honored father, mother, brothers, and sister instruct me in the martial way. Allow me to gain the strength that meets your approval, to defend those that are close to me and to never flee again!" with this Fan Zhong kowtowed three times each so hard his head struck the stairway so hard it left blood behind.

"Are you sure? You don-" his mother started a worried expression on her face

"Please instruct!" Fan Zhong yelled and kept his head on the floor.

"Rise son, look at me" Fan Long commanded this time the Qi in his voice so strong it pressed down on everyone gathered in the clearing, his commanding presence akin to a royal decree from an immortal emperor to those gathered here.

Fan Zhong struggled to raise his head under the pressure of his father's gathering qi. When their eyes met his gaze burned with a fire that seemed to dwarf the heavens themselves. Fan Long almost stumbled looking into those eyes, a look of determined passion he had never thought to see from his son. In the next instant Fan Zhong saw in his father's eyes that which he always wanted, pride for him and him alone.

"Excellent, excellent rise, Warrior Fan Zhong, rise and grow strong!" Immediately Fan Long exhaled all the qi he had gathered into these last words, the sound so loud it almost blew Fan Zhong clean off the steps.

Fan Zhong rose smiling, his back seeming taller and prouder than it ever had in his entire life as he let loose a roaring cheer with the rest of the crowd.
 
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Interlude: Lighting raging under Eternal Rain.
Xing Zheng calmly observed the sight below him as he descended through the sky on his Azure Water Sword using his vital treasure link with it to move it in the air while he stood atop it. Below him stood a grand palace that stretched on for miles around with layers of pavilions and smaller buildings arranged throughout. From the highest points of the palaces waved endless banners of gold with a black sword shaped like a lightning bolt emblazoned on them, lighting clearing shapes around the sword represented sword shadows that were birthed from the black lightning sword.

It had been 786 years since Xing Zheng had seen this place with its high flying standards. The gold that gilded every surface and intricate calligraphy work that decorated all the window panes was just as pristine as then if not more. On the stone-paved pathways, murals of fierce generals lead thousands of men into battle against all manner of foes from beasts to enemy countries. Each of these murals contained a historic event in the empire's history, a great triumph or military event that had been cemented in the now almost 11,000 years since the empire's inception.

Technically the empire was two centuries shy of 11,000 years of history but it was close enough in Xing Zheng's approximation. This palace complex was of course the main palace of the Xing empire whose royal lineage included Xing Zheng himself. Now just a hundred or so meters off the ground he regarded the military procession gathered to welcome his homecoming.

The irony of this grand welcome juxtaposed with the way he had been thrown to the wayside by the clan was not lost on him. When he had been an obstacle they were willing to throw him away like yesterday's trash, now that he was a vaunted 'immortal' who could disdain them from above with power they plied him with milk and honey. Of course, his master, Lin Qiu, had disposed him of the idea that Qi Condensation cultivators were immortal. Apparently until achieving true immortal status cultivators were referred to as " spirit realm cultivators" as they cultivated the spirit realms of Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, and Supreme Unity.

Upon first discovering that one did not achieve the state of true immortal multiple realms higher than his master, who had already lived for over 10,000 years, Xing Zheng had felt like he had truly been the frog in the well his entire life. If one needed 10,000 years to become a nascent soul cultivator how long then to achieve the supreme unity stage above that? And then to break through supreme unity and cast off mortality becoming a true immortal?

Doing this must take hundreds of thousands of years! This amount of time was truly incomprehensible to his mind, truly an amount of time that saw the formation and weathering of mountains and seas. Bringing his attention back to the procession he had to admit it was impressive and most likely intimidating to the mortal realm martial artist. The grand army of the Xing Empire was on full display spears held in steady parade stance pointing to the heavens, officers on proud fully armored and ornamented horses stood at the head of their columns.

In the center head of the grand army, procession stood a single figure with long hair, his eyes were a deep brown and his gaze was sharp giving one the impression two swords were stabbing into their soul when his eyes were met. He wore steel grey robes with a crest that was a yellow lightning cloud with a black sword shaped like lighting on top of it, his brother Xing Hai the current mortal emperor of the Xing Empire. In the gentle blowing breeze, Xing Zheng noticed his brother's once dark black hair was now filled with streaks of white and the wrinkles of age spotted his once perfect and fiercely handsome face.

Behind Xing Hai stood a group of men who looked old yet young, they carried themselves like wizened old sages and their hair was low cut having completely turned white. Most of them wore robes not of the Xing Empire but with personal crests and colors ranging from tigers to dragons and from the darkest reds to the brightest whites with all colors in between.

These men Xing Zheng had never met however he knew them to be the Xing clan ancestors, those emperors who had held his brother's position and ascended to qi condensation prolonging their life and retiring from the mortal world. In this way they were able to circumvent the nonintervention policy expected of most righteous path cultivation organizations, ordering their mortal descendants to do their bidding while controlling them from the shadows.

This was something of an open secret between the cultivation forces within the Xing Empire although it had surprised Xing Zheng when he had questioned his master on how the Xing Empire ruled this territory. Apparently, the Xing Empire was a part of the large area known as the All Realms Supreme Greater Region which was ruled by an immortal sect known as the Beast tamer sect. However with such a large area to rule the Beast tamer sect could not directly manage all of it so allowed local forces to control small portions of the All Realms Supreme Greater Region and simply demanded a certain portion of resources as tribute from those powers.

To determine these local rulers the Beast Tamer Sect had allowed all of the smaller powers to contest territory using their mortal descendants forbidding anyone who was in a spirit realm or higher to compete. This policy allowed the forces to fight while not involving anyone powerful enough to do real damage to the assets of the territory as fights between high-level cultivators tend to decimate large swaths of land destroying their resources. Like this, the Xing Empire had risen through the excellence of their mortal descendants from a mix of smaller kingdoms absorbing them one at a time until it became the superpower it was today.
This was one of the reasons many of the sect's accepted the larger empires ruling these areas and bargained with them for their sect lands. Although these sects might have the power to destroy the Xing Empire they, in turn, had the backing of the Beast Tamer Sect which was far more powerful than any local superpowers. Would their backers simply remain quiet while the Xing Empire was assaulted by hostile cultivators and in the process let their precious territory resources go to waste?

Certainly not, in that case, the Beast Tamer Sect would annihilate them using some old Nascent soul cultivator. This reminded Xing Zheng of just how powerful his master was; normally he was the level of existence that could not be contained in an organization smaller than the Beast Tamer Sect possibly larger. Speaking of larger organizations he had been astonished to find out that the Beast Tamer Sect likewise only ruled a portion of the territory controlled by an even larger super sect!

The larger super sect's allowed smaller immortal sects like the Beast Tamer Sect to battle in much the same way they allowed the mortal kingdoms to fight over territory only their battle usually allowed fighters up to the limits of the spirit realm. Only True Immortal and above cultivators were barred from fighting over territory at that level. Wars between sects on that level were said to only happen every hundreds of thousands of years and sometimes even a million years might pass without one! However, when they happened the battles decimated entire regions, and singular strikes from cultivators of that level would destroy the entire Xing Empire a hundred times over.

Lin Qiu had also hinted to him that even the Super Sect that was above the Beast Tamer Sect fought for its territory under an overlord in a similar fashion however he never directly said as such. The possibility truly worried Xing Zheng, what would happen if true immortals actually fought? Wouldn't that level of power unravel all of creation?

In any case, the ancestor cultivators of the Xing clan had been using this power structure to extract resources from their mortal empire while allowing them to save face in front of the cultivation world. Most of them didn't even consider themselves a part of the Xing Empire anymore and simply viewed it as their own personal resources and thus they wore their own personal colors to this procession.

They had come here today to evaluate him and let him know that he was still an outsider as he had not ascended in the clan and thus should not expect to split the empire's resources, his sect should still do the job of raising his cultivation. In other words, they were here to bully him and his brother's 800'th birthday. Thinking of this he finally got to the ground and landed in front of his brother, their eyes meeting.

"Elder Brother, it's truly been too long! How is your health, are you doing well?" Xing Zheng greeted his brother with a smile and open arms, he truly held no animosity for him only wanting to reconnect old familial ties. He knew he had a short time left, his brother had never felt he could succeed in ascending the tribulation of Qi Condensation and as such was still a mortal Supreme Grandmaster. Although this realm extended his life 800 years was pushing the limits of his age and he most likely did not have many left. With his brother's life drawing to a close Xing Zheng had truly felt the need to reconnect with him in his final years.

"Welcome honored brother, the ancestors and I have been waiting to see you. I apologize for our lack of communication. The campaigns have kept me busy as I assume your pursuit of the Eternal Dao has kept you. Come let us have a celebration, it has been hundreds of years and you're coming home! We are the only siblings left from our heir assessment truly we were meant to walk the path side by side brother!" Xing Hai met him with the same jovial energy and happiness he had exuded; however, Xing Zheng could hear the tiredness and age in his expression.

" Greetings nephew Zheng" an aged voice came from one of the ancestors, a man who looked only about 20 years old but whose eyes spoke of hundreds of years of wisdom long pure white hair flowing down his back, surprisingly he was dressed in formal Xing clan martial robes with the Xing Empire crest emblazoned on the back "I won't shorten your time with Nephew Hai I hear you have much to catch up on however when you find time I and the other Ancestors would speak with you. Currently, we are staying in the Jade lightning palace please come when you have the time"

With that said the man raised his Qi aura for a moment and Xing Zheng was shocked to feel his cultivation base, Core Formation realm! To Xing Zheng's knowledge, the strongest ancestor was at the realm of peak Formation Establishment and he had heard no news of someone breaking into Core Formation. It seemed there truly were crouching tigers and hidden dragons everywhere even in mortal empires.

"Of course honored ancestor I shall visit upon my earliest convenience" saying the words Xing Zheng bowed to show his respects, he had contempt for these men and their scheming however he saw no reason to be rude or raise their ire.

With this, the ancestors all mounted flying swords and rushed away with so much speed that they created great shockwaves of air knocking down the two nearest columns of soldiers and nearly causing some of them to be impaled upon each other's weapons. Sweeping his gaze around Xing Zheng truly was impressed at how large the stone paved parade ground was, it had to at least be 5 km wide and tall, truly a large enough space to practice army maneuvers in.

With the ancestors gone Xing Zheng followed his brother to a set of pavilions that were set up in the middle of the army on the parade ground. Inside flew the colors of gold and black intertwining the roofs of the pavilions while golden and black flames spouted from torches in amusing patterns accentuating dancers and musicians so numerous and loud they seemed to dwarf the army. All around good food and wine flowed and he spent the night celebrating with his brother. Xing Hai did tire after just a few hours and retired to the palace leaving Xing Zheng to mingle with the younger members of the family, those who were too young to be involved in the scheming.

Doing so lifted his heart, it had been hundreds of years since he enjoyed himself to this extent and while he had never been one with a great love of music and dance he did not disdain them either. In this way, 2 days of celebration passed and with Xing Zheng's peak Qi Condensation cultivation he did not feel the least bit tired. He was enjoying showing the younger generation some sword basics with a wooden sword on the morning of the third day when his brother found him with a serious expression on his face.

"Brother I understand there are things we have not spoken of. Time has truly torn too great a rift I think for me to mend, however, upon reflection I have a way to do so. Would you do me the favor of meditating in a practice chamber for a day? I fear you will stop these preparations if you see them but I feel it must be done!" Xing Hai spoke in a firm voice, the voice of his elder brother sang true to Xing Zheng

"Brother what you ask is a pittance, a day of my time? Bah take a year, those scheming men have kept you busy working and campaigning in the military all these years such that even your heaven-defying talent could not breakthrough yet! Come to the sect with me on reprieve we have ways to relieve your body's ails and help you raise your realm. I will personally do everything to guarantee you ascend to the spirit realms!" Xing Zheng offered this sincerely, he truly had no enmity with his brother and after speaking with the family and finding out the ancestors had suppressed Xing Hai by giving him as little time to cultivate as possible his anger at them had been stirred.

"The life of an emperor is for her people, brother… I regret not the time spent securing our borders and keeping the peace. In my place the ancestors have already decided who will ascend the throne, little choice to me besides" Xing Hai surprisingly smiled and poked him in the stomach with a finger "since when do you talk back to your older brother, simply listen and I'll show you something good!"

As Xing Hai walked away flanked by his bodyguards Xing Zheng could not help but wonder at the sadness he sensed behind his brother's smile. He had tried to put up a strong front but obviously, something was bothering him that could not be spoken of in the open. Figuring there was little that could be done about the matter at present Xing Zheng mounted his flying sword and flew to the Xing Clan's main family training grounds.

Landing in the dirty training ground that was full of young hopeful Xing scions caused emotion to stir deep in his chest. The training grounds were sectioned off with low wooden fences that had gates with a banner holding the Xing Crest at each corner of the squared fencing. Inside the fences was a 25m by 25m bare dirt clearing where young fighters could spar and even have small group fights.

These training arenas were stacked together horizontally with the back edge of the training grounds being lined with small 10m by 10m wooden meditation and resting huts that served for small breaks and as sleeping quarters for those staying multiple days to train techniques. Opposite the huts were racks lined with practice spears, swords, and other assorted weapons which gave way in the center to the path that led into the grounds. Sighing Xing Zheng chose one of the huts that were not occupied and assumed a lotus position choosing to meditate for the day.

Upon rousing the next morning a runner informed him that preparations had taken longer than Xing Hai had anticipated for his surprise event and asked Xing Zheng to give pointers to the younger generation. Meanwhile, Xing Hai would send a summons for him when he was ready. Not being the type to complain, Xing Zheng set about gathering the youths on the grounds and giving them a few pointers on sword techniques.

It was not only sword techniques as a cultivator who ascended the mortal realms Xing Zheng's understanding of spears, sabers and even unarmed techniques was incredibly solid and more than enough to instruct the young Xing martial artists who did not favor the sword. While he was busy showing them a particular set of 18 palm techniques that had been famous in ancient times his summons came and with it, thunder sounded high in the sky heralding the dark clouds that now blanketed the horizon.

By the time Xing Zheng arrived on the parade grounds, it was pouring rain, the water seemed to fall upon his robes yet run off him without wetting him. Arriving Xing Zheng stood at the foot of a stairway leading up to a towering dais from all sides forming a wide and short flat-topped pyramid. At the four corners of the pyramid were lit blazing bonfires that burned with black flames casting an eerie light on the ground and stage. Surrounding the stage stood row upon row of Xing Clan Soldiers, an army that was ten times the size of the military procession gathered for his welcoming, they belted a rhythmic chant some beating on drums that vibrated the downpour of rain.

Eyes questioning Xing Zheng slowly ascended the stairs, the downpour of rain a company now instead of the foe it had once been. In the solitude of the round's fury, all other sounds seemed to drown out as he approached the flattened stage atop the pyramid-like dais. There in the center sat his brother with only pants and a pitch-black sword laid across his lap.

"Xing Hai, what is the meaning of this? What do you mean to do?" Xing Zheng's eyes were wide at this point in confusion, did his brother mean to kill him with these mortal troops? He might now be able to kill all of them but if he truly meant to escape they had little to stop him.

"I challenge you as a fellow scion of Xing to a duel! The emperor challenges you, do you answer?" Xing Hai spoke with a thunderous voice qi flexing into the words, each word sent out a shockwave that formed a dent in the cascading rain.

"Why Brother? To what end are you doing this?" Xing Zheng bellowed in a fury unable to understand what had brought this on

"Hmph I am the emperor I need no reason, my will is reason enough! Guard yourself!" With that, the air cracked as Xing Hai seemed to turn into a streak of lightning, a streak of black inside the yellow light from his qi the only sign of his sword as it hissed forward.

Xing Zheng felt the pressure of the sword coming forward and also saw the slight shimmer of its edge, this was the hidden secret of the Xing Clan sword style. At high levels of mastery, the heat of the lightning imbued into the sword was large enough to make mirages in the air. If manipulated correctly it would throw off the opponent's perception of the strike by small margins making the lightning-fast cuts and thrusts almost impossible to block.

With a sigh, Xing Zheng brought his sword fingers up with his right hand and issued a single slashing motion outward. Although Xing Hai moved fast with Xing Zheng's much higher cultivation realm and techniques gained from his nascent soul master it was as if the "lightning fast" Xing clan sword style was standing still. With the single sword finger slash, Xing Zheng pushed his qi into his 10,000 Drops Birthed from the Sword technique and projected 1,000 sword phantoms of the slash outward in all directions.

The force of these sword phantoms scattered his brother's techniques with the rest of the strikes hitting his qi defenses and causing deep cuts. Quickly he pushed his sword into the ground skidding to the right of Xing Zheng who had now calmly walked halfway to the center of the platform. Xing Hai frowned deeply and rose to his feet raising his sword once again.

"Surely you see there is no point in continuing?" Xing Zheng said irritably, this was not a fight he had come here to have

"Brother we once pursued the martial peak together, will you disrespect me so? If you have any love left for me, then give me face here today, this is my most powerful technique! Let this old man see the peak of the world before I meet my end! Let it be at the hands of a master, not at the scheming of clerks and bankers!" Xing Hai Bellowed and raised his sword in salute black lightning flickered on the blade as he sheathed it

Xing Zheng recognized the technique but also didn't, it was the same technique that had given him his scar but it had been mastered to the extreme. He had heard from Lin Qui that once a technique was mastered to a certain extent one could start customizing it to be a wholly original version suited to the user, increasing the ability for even lower-ranked techniques by leaps and bounds. Indeed Xing Zheng felt this strike would have broken through his previous defensive move with ease.

"So be it… Disappear with the rain!" Xing Zheng spent softly however with the amount of qi he pushed into the words each one pressed down on the entire parade ground like a mountain.

Focusing inward, Xing Zheng gathered all of his qi, starting to activate his meridian inscriptions. One by one he poured qi into them as he started with the first three he had ever inscribed. These qi condensation meridians had each of his core techniques, his cycling, sword, and mental technique, inscribed on them making them twice as effective while costing half of the energy control and use.

Next came the 6 meridians that contain 3 pairs of energy formation cores and an area control technique known as 10,000 Drops Birth the Void. This technique took control of the ambient qi that he had used in previous techniques, drawing it and using it to generate more Azure Sword Qi and disperse it in the air. The next two were mental energy control cores inscribed into his meridians to each add how much energy his mental energy could control over again onto what he could do( ie if he could control 100 units of qi with 10 units of mental energy each core makes that 10 units of mental energy control 100 more units of qi combining to 300 in total) with both meridian cores activated. Finally was the main technique core inscribed in the last meridian he had opened on his journey through qi condensation.

This formation, whose cores were spread through his meridians, was the result of the painstaking cultivation he had undergone. During most of his cultivation in Qi condensation setting up his meridians to power this formation technique had made him weaker than imbuing them with stronger techniques that directly increase battle power, although the cores could be used separately to aid him so would other techniques and cultivation methods. The real power lay in the An Instant Births 10,000 Epochs of Rain technique formation core inscribed into his final core.

A strike that would gather all the ambient qi used by him and his opponent over the course of a battle multiple it and form 10,000 sword phantoms for each attack he had made during the battle, each phantom strike twice as powerful as the original blows. Normally this technique was activated after a long fight and would leave him completely exhausted and unable to fight for a few hours, with his current 1,000 techniques turning into 10,000,000 he figured it would consume about 25% of his reserves. His brother had asked him for this strongest blow as a martial artist and technically this was the strongest attack he could do now, in that instant.

With the formation cores full of energy Xing Zheng activated the technique. Instantly hundreds of thousands of sword phantoms formed in the sky above the stage, blocking out the sky. So saturated with Azure Sword Qi were the phantoms that they dripped condensation qi which turned into mini swords so sharp they pierced the stage as they fell in a drizzle.

With a single motion, Xing Zheng drew his Azure Water Sword and unleashed the technique through it at 140% of the power it would have been. The world became black for Xing Hai as he charged into the storm of swords, his black lighting strike cleaving through thousands upon thousands of sword strikes, little by little he was eroded and chipped, turning the world black as he felt his body reducing to dust.

Following the technique, Xing Zheng raised his sword in a salute to his brother before sheathing it, somehow through sheer force of will Xing Hai's body was held together. He stumbled close to Xing Zheng and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry brother, this was the only way. The ancestors they… have my son, thought I'd rebel if I ascended. It seems your martial path will be a lonely one… my condolences. Show them brother… our dream of reaching the apex… carry my spirit with you" Xing Hai whispered the words forcing his essence to keep his body intact long enough to speak dissolving into dust at the final one.

Xing Hai's son? He had never spoken of him nor had Xing Zheng been made aware he had a nephew! With this revelation Xing Zheng's head was sent spinning, with his anger and fury boiling to the maximum he sent out a wordless roar that thundered into the stormy sky, imbued with such force and Qi that it flattened the entire army that had gathered to witness this moment. Xing Zheng vowed then and there, he would see these ancestors pay for what they had done to his brother. With this he sent a talisman to his master informing him that he would be pursuing demonic cultivators in the Xing Empire for the next century, he needed time to get close to the ancestors and there was nothing they liked better than a loyal dog doing their bidding.
 
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Part 1. Ch 6. A Journey of 10,000 li begins with 1 step
Fan Zhong awoke to the smiling face of his brother hunched over his bend roll casually spinning that accursed stick he always had.

"Rise and greet the morning young hero! Today we take another step up the mountain of martial arts!" Saying this with a wide grin, Fan Cheng's arm blurred as quickly he struck Fan Zhong three times with the punishment stick.

With a groan of pain, Fan Zhon gathered himself and rose despite the tiredness of his bones. Like this, he started his third morning of voluntary training with his brother. As they started the two-hour morning run to warm up their muscles Fan Zhong could not help but notice how the air seemed to twist and bend as if in agony as dark clouds broiled overhead heralded by a large burst of lightning. Accompanying the dreary sight was a monotonous drizzling of rain not so heavy as to be a downpour but not so light as to be pleasant and refreshing, if one had to describe this rain it was as if the heavens themselves were crying in sadness.

Indeed many thought this to be the case as over the past two days of training since his Third-Grade recognition ceremony news had been spreading like wildfire. It seemed that the 'Heavenly Emperor' of the 'Xing Empire' had been slain during a duel with someone. Supposedly he was a great hero who had kept the peace of the empire through martial strength and loyalty, fighting many fierce battles for hundreds of years and becoming known as "Heavenly Emperor Xing Hai The Flashing Void Sword". In Fan Zhong's mind, this simply sounded like a pompous title an emperor had given himself to feel self-important

In actuality, the most shocking thing about this news to him was that the valley itself was part of the Xing Empire. Apparently the region of mortal kingdoms, which the valley was one of the smaller, ruled over by the baroness was simply a small part of the Xing Empire. Previously, Baroness Lu Yi who ruled over the entire Twisted Territories Lesser Region had been the overlord of the entire world in his eyes. A lesser territory was already so large he balked at calling it a 'lesser' anything. However, now he came to find out that this empire that ruled over them controlled 43 'Greater regions' that themselves were made up of 300 lesser regions each, this scope truly boggled his mind. If this were true he supposed it was correct to call the Twisted Territories a lesser region, the entire empire contained over 10,000 of such regions after all!

Perhaps the ruler of such a large territory was truly powerful enough to make the heavens weep? To Fan Zhong however, it was all too distant and far away. For him, all the mourning period for the emperor meant was a week-long period of wearing black robes. That and apparently rain, this gloomy endless rain. Sighing, he lifted his foot out of a particularly deep puddle that had run over the mouth of his shoe soaking his foot, Fan Zhong lowered his gaze to the ground and increased his speed hoping to complete the run as soon as possible.

After finishing the run and arriving in the training clearing they next did squats until he could barely stand, the bone-chilling wind accenting the wonderful flavor of cold the rain had sunk into his bone. With no break this was followed by push-ups with Fan Cheng sitting on top of his back, the punishment stick falling as fast as the rain when he took so much as a breath of reprieve. The day continued with no end in sight moving on to stance practice, something Fan Zhong was incredibly irritated with.

"Wise brother, sage of all men, truly with your wisdom you can see I have mastered the "Void gate" opening stance. You said it yourself that at my age your stance might not be so well done! Why must we still dirty the path already tread with our shoes?" The mocking jovial tone in Fan Zhong's voice betrayed his utter contempt for continuing what he deemed an exercise in futility; he needed to get stronger and practice the clan palm techniques!

It was not as if they had not practiced other techniques in their routine; however, he truly felt the time spent on a technique he had already mastered was wasteful. Up until now, he had only slowly moved through the striking techniques in the air, not even at full speed. If they cut out the stance training could they not use this time to finish this step faster and move on to something more substantial like striking dummies? He felt this would allow him to improve his strength much faster.

" Hmm I see, truly I could not see Mt. Tai. Forgive me Vaunted Heavenly Immortal with your complete understanding of the Dao, how could I lecture you? With this, I suppose my instruction must stop since it is so inadequate!" With a solemn expression, that seemed far too serious for his mocking tone, Fan Chen bowed and started to walk away

"Elder brother, esteemed master, truly you jest! This humble junior seeks guidance and begs apology for his insolence." Begrudgingly Fan Zhong bowed a few times, relenting to his brother's teasing.

" Ahh truly brother your progress is fast but do you truly think your technique is the greatest among heaven and earth, what level of attainment in the Void Gate Stance would you say you have? Expert? Master? Grandmaster maybe? You must continue to improve techniques you have already learned so they grow. We have practiced the new techniques you wish to learn for the past two days but we must still allocate time for growing your foundation. I will not relent on this. No disciple of mine, brother or not, will rush to new heights while allowing the ground to fall out beneath him!" Fan Cheng clasped his hands behind his back and delivered his reproach sternly with a strict expression, this time he was not teasing. He truly meant his words and would not relent no matter how much Fan Zhong complained!

"Ahh, brother, since you are such a sage, provide some advice to this junior, you mentioned attainment levels? Do you mean the martial arts realm? I apologize but my knowledge seems to be lacking in this area. Please instruct!" Knowing he had kicked an iron plate and seeking to humble himself while gaining knowledge, Fan Zhong quickly changed the conversation topic to the first question he could pry into his mind from his brother's words.

At Fan Zhong's words his elder brother smiled, it was truly a sign of maturity that he had been able to admit his fault and ask for help rather than be embarrassed and try to hide it. For truly what man knew all things, dominated all directions and trades? None, a truly intelligent man understood this point in Fan Cheng's estimation, and thus they would truly excel when they and they alone best understood the areas they lacked in and could admit them.

With a nod of approval Fan Cheng motioned for his brother to join him in a meditation hut and pulled up a table to the center of the room once they entered and they both sat at either side. As the thunder and lightning outside boomed and accompanied the endless patter of the rain ceaselessly banging against the waterproofing talismans Fan Cheng began a lecture on technique attainment by the light of the torches illuminating the corners of the room.

Soon Fan Zhong started to understand how technique attainment affected his martial arts. Essentially while practicing techniques one would become more and more familiar with them eventually the techniques themselves would become as natural as breathing. Even further forth if one understood a technique to a greater extent they could start to take and modify parts of it to suit them specifically allowing a greater effect to be displayed when using the technique.

Finally once one truly understood the foundations of a technique and everything about it they would essentially remake the technique in total. Doing this required using the same principles as the original but adding to it and modifying aspects. This would bring forth a new technique in its own right completely customized and adapted for the user.

At this last step usually, the martial artists would add an epithet to the technique name to denote their personal version. The name would generally give some idea to future generations on how their changes had changed the effects of the technique. For example the technique "7 shifting steps" might become the "7 Shifting lightning steps of Ying" as the master who changed it added an elemental energy of lightning into the technique's usage and was surnamed Ying.

When evaluating how strong a technique should be, martial artists over the years had come up with many denotations and ranks to ascribe to them. Firstly came the Unfamiliar Realm of Attainment, generally, this describes someone who may have witnessed a technique or been instructed in it but was attempting it for the first few times. Techniques at this level generally fail to even display the intended effects failing 50% of the time on average while requiring around 200-300% of the energy costs of normal and upon success usually only displaying 50% the strength of that was intended.

Next comes the Familiar Realm of Attainment, generally this describes someone who is familiar enough with a technique to execute the technique at will successfully under normal circumstances. Techniques at this level generally display the intended strength and energy usage of the technique on average. This is the level of technique many would consider the stage one has "learned" a technique and the most common level of attainment for techniques.

Surpassing the familiar realm comes the Expert Realm of Attainment, generally, this describes a martial artist who is incredibly used to the technique and has used it for a very long time able to execute the technique with a simple thought. At this point, the martial artist has started to refine the excess movements/energy use usually displayed by those in the Familiar Realm increasing the strength displayed by 10% while lowering energy cost by the same amount. Usually, this level of attainment is gained after intensive periods of training from a few months up to a few years depending on the complexity of the technique.

Following that came the Master Realm of Attainment, generally this describes martial artists who can use the technique as easy as breathing the movements of it barely distinguishable from their natural movements, flowing the technique into them seamlessly. Master Realm attainment allows techniques to display 50% more strength than normal while using 20% less energy. Bringing a technique to this level generally requires years of intense training, sometimes even decades.

After this came the Grandmaster Realm of Attainment, generally this is recognized when a technique is so natural to the martial artists that they had completely integrated the technique as a part of their natural set of movements. Usually, this makes their techniques indistinguishable from the rest of their movements by untrained eyes. Another sign of attainment at this level was signs that the martial artist had begun modifying the technique to suit their body and combat style, beginning to form a unique version of the technique. By reaching this level techniques are able to display 100% more strength than normal while costing 30% less energy. To reach such a level of mastery can easily take decades of dedicated training and some try their entire lives to reach this level with a single technique and fail.

Finally, the technique would come to the Supreme Grandmaster Realm of Attainment recognized by the technique being distinguishable as a fully unique version of the original. Usually, at this point, the technique is given its epithet allowing the martial artist to claim the variant as theirs and theirs alone. Upon understanding a technique to this level the martial artist would be able to display 200% of the strength of the original, plus any additional benefits they added such as elemental effects, etc, while only using 50% of the energy originally required to use the technique. To create a personal technique is the goal of many martial arts masters and could be said to be the second pinnacle of martial arts behind ascending to a higher martial arts realm.

Although this is the case many spend hundreds of years hoping to reach the Supreme Grandmaster Realm of Attainment with a single technique and die having never come close. In the legends, it is said that immortals can continue to contemplate techniques using them to understand the very laws of the Eternal Dao and how they govern the world and in turn use that understanding to turn a simple sword strike into a profound god-slaying technique.

A famous legend of this phenomenon was still passed down to this day. It stated that during an era where humans were no more than food and playthings for primordial gods and devils alike a true immortal monk had risen to defend humanity. One day after being gravely injured fighting these evil beings he found a mountain peak overlooking a valley that contained such beauty he claimed he could see the entire Dao modeled in that place.

With such a place of enlightenment, he sat down and meditated while observing and contemplating the valley for 1,000,000 years. Every day he would practice a simple straight punch and contemplate how it related to the Dao. During this time he disappeared from the world and humanity fell to its lowest point having lost its greatest champion.

However in the end after emerging from seclusion his simple punch was said to be able to destroy the heavens themselves. Afterward, he went on to slay demons and gods alike in retribution for the 1,000,000 years of suffering inflicted upon humanity in his absence. The heavens themselves had run red with the bled of divinity under the might of his simple straight punch.

When he ascended to become a buddha he elevated humanity and cemented their place among the heavens as the most powerful race. Some said that he still lived in the heavens above, watching over all of mankind and keeping his fist ready to strike down the primordial gods and devils if they sought to suppress humanity to squalor once again.

After hearing this Fan Zhong felt he had a good grasp of the subject however after thinking about what he had just been told an obvious question was raised to his mind.

"Honored brother if these are the levels of technique attainment then what realm is my Void Gate stance at? I have not practiced it for many years yet from your description it does not sound as if my stance should be within the unfamiliar or familiar realms, how is that possible?" the confusion in Fan Zhong's tone was genuine; he had no idea how he could have expert or even master attainment with a technique he had only practiced for a week.

" Ahh, brother and now you see why father worried for you during the recognition ceremony. Surely mother spoke of the Dao Enlightenment you had while fighting your opponent to defend Wang Qiang? At the end of our first week of training, you had already miraculously gained expert-level attainment in the void gate stance, I personally had many slight enlightenments to achieve this due to the technique being compatible with your mindset. During that fateful duel where you slew that hateful assailant, you gained much directly perceiving the Dao during a life and death struggle pushing your attainment to master level. With this you gained almost a decade's worth of technique attainment in a mere week, this kind of progress makes the clan warriors not know whether to laugh or cry. Many think father has spent some rare immortal treasure on you to forcefully provoke such states of enlightenment. This caused a lot of grumbling behind the scenes and he thus was fiercely protective of you during the ceremony. He was worried someone who held a grudge against him would target you as a proxy. Personally, I think it is because the technique suits you. It requires the complete emptying of the mind, something I find you talented in little brother! However it seems your sudden spurts of heavenly connection have run out and you're still at the initial stages of Master Realm Attainment, it will take diligent work to keep perfecting this technique." Fan Cheng patiently explained with a broad grin on his face as he beamed with pride for his little brother.

"Bu…bu… but brother I was under the impression my results were due to your teaching. Do you mean to say that I truly have a talent for this? Surely you jest? When we were younger my aptitude was tested numerous times and I truly had no talent, father said it was so. Now I am a genius that defies the heavens?" Fan Zhong's bewilderment could not stop growing, it was something he couldn't possibly understand. Surely this was all due to his genius brother secretly helping him. Perhaps he had put secret immortal pills in his food?

"Hmph defy this, come it's time to start working on those palm techniques you wanted to get to. Since you're so 'heaven-defying' today we will see how you defy your brother's sagely palms of tutelage!" Fan Cheng pronounced smiling far too widely for someone about to administer what sounded like a profound beating, with that he stood up and walked into the dreary training clearing atop the cliff. Fan Zhong followed him trying his best to keep his spirits high, he had asked for this after all hadn't he?

Taking his stance across from Fan Cheng he listened as his brother instructed. As with previous days, they started by reviewing the techniques that made up the 'Nine Palms Subdue the Nine Heavens' Style. Firstly were the three origin palms, these were delivered with the dominant hand that was held cocked back near the back leg in the Void Gate stance. These started with the 'All Things Birth from the Origin' a simple advancing palm strike with the cocked arm that rotated the whole body into the strike aimed at pushing the force into the opponent's dantian. At higher levels, this strike would carry palm force to shut off enemy qi flow and do lingering internal damage, however, without Qi the blow would still disrupt the enemy's breathing and do significant damage.

Next came the "Ascending origin" palms were strikes that started with a lowering of the upper body while dipping forward before striking upward with a palm in a crescent motion rising from the ground to the opponent. These strikes were designed to deliver the most palm force and internal damage when utilized with qi and would rattle the intervals even with purely physical force. Finally were the "Heavenly Origin" palms, these attacks were the opposite of the ascending strikes where one arched the arm up high and brought the palm in a downward crescent to strike the top of the head or shoulders. Normally these attacks would disrupt the opponent's control over one of their arms or be used as a stunning strike to set up follow-up hits when striking the head.

In the defensive arsenal of the style came the three shifting palms. These techniques were delivered from the void gate stance by switching the position of the back and forward leg through rotation causing one to shift backward or forward as they resumed the Void Gate Stance. While the shifting footwork occurred the martial artists would use the rotational force to strike with crescent-arced palm strikes from the sides. Usually, this was used to parry strikes that could not be received or push aside an opponent for positioning reasons. Differing among the three palms were if they were executed at the waist level, curving in from above and to the side or below and to the side. These three different height levels separated the shifting palms into 'Heaven Shifting Palm' for strikes that curved inward from above, mortal shifting palm for strikes that curved in at waist level from the sides, and finally earth shifting palm for strikes that curved upward from the ground and into the side.

Finally, the three receiving palms came, these strikes although called palm techniques were actually techniques that struck with the legs. All of the receiving palm techniques involved the martial artist striking the sides of an incoming blow from an opponent with a palm strike from each side as if they were executing a shifting palm from both hands without the footwork. These side strikes need to be aimed at the weak points of the opponent's blow to disrupt its power. After this is done the palms push towards each other grabbing the opponent's limb or weapon and dragging them into the martial artist, hence the name receiving palm. From here the three palms were differentiated by what the following actions were. If the martial artist rose and struck with his knee into the oncoming 'received' opponent then it was a mortal receiving palm. For receiving palms that answered with high kicks to the shoulder, head, or chest it was considered a 'Heaven Receiving Palm'. Finally, if the answer was a low sweeping kick or short kick to the stomach or groin it was known as an 'Earth Receiving Palm'.

"Good, now that we have reviewed the basics of the clan style we will start with the most basic striking exercise in the training manual meant for two people. This is called the 'shifting palms obscure the origin' drill. Simply we will take stance two paces outside of striking measure then we will take turns approaching to deliver an origin palm strike. The defender will then attempt to use a shifting palm strike to parry and access the flanking side of the attacker and deliver a countering origin palm strike. Of course, the attack is allowed to feint and use shifting palm strikes of their own to regain the advantage if they can. Now would you like to start attacking or defending brother? Don't worry, elder brother will move at only 10% speed making this easy for a heaven-defying genius like you!" Fan Cheng explained the exercise while beaming with energy, seeming eager to start.

Fan Zhong very much doubted that even at 10% speed his brother's Master level realm speed would be anything but unreadable to his eyes however he simply sighed and chose to begin by attacking. As they took stance Fan Zhong felt the familiar calmness of the Void gate stance and took a step forward with his back leg stepping wide with his other leg to complete the pace and bring him into measure and back into stance.

He had stepped wide and to the outside of his brother's center line hoping to use the angled approach to catch him off guard which seemed to be working. As he approached Fan Cheng indeed seemed to move with speed he could at least see. However, his movements were masterful and Fan Zhong could tell that although the wide angle had given him a superior angle of attack, outside of his opponent's center line it had taken precious time, time his experienced brother would not let go. By the moment he had entered measure and began executing his strike his brother had already adjusted in such a way that his palm was halfway into a parry before Fan Zhong had moved. In a blurring of pain that sent the world spinning, he felt his blow move off course as if a mountain had detoured it and force akin to an explosion, centered of course on his right side, sent him in a summersault before he landed painfully.

"Ahh, an ingenious angle of attack brother, however, it is obvious that you lack practice in the motion and thus you gave me ample time to respond and set myself on your new path. Now assume your stance! Remember a journey of 10,000 li is walked one step at a time, congratulations on taking the first step." With these words, Fan Cheng clasped him on the shoulder and pulled him to his feet before pacing away and assuming the void gate stance.

Feeling the pain in his body after a single exchange, Fan Zhong hoped in his heart that the rest of the steps in this journey would not be near as painful as the first. By the time Fan Cheng was through with him for the day he clearly understood. Not only would they be just as painful, but most likely the blood and tears shed on this journey would only increase with each step!

Like this Fan Zhong's life continued. Wake and exercise until his bones felt like cracking then drill techniques. Finally, the day would end with the same partner exercise with Fan Cheng. Wake up, get soaked, work out, get beaten, and sleep. Repeat, repeat, repeat. As the week dragged on he thought that the rain would never end and he would simply die from the physical exhaustion. What grated on him, even more, was his brother never even sweated the entire time.

Of course, Fan Zhong knew his brother's vastly superior Martial Arts Realm meant his physical stamina was leagues beyond anything he could hope to imagine however it did little to allay his heart. This combined with the fact that it simply would not stop raining caused Fan Zhong's mood to sour by the end of the first week of training.

He started to reconsider doing volunteer training, what was he even doing here? Why was the training so much more difficult? Were his elder brother and father trying to scare him off? Or were they simply testing his resolve and making sure he was serious about this?

Every time he thought of this however he would close his eyes and see the terrified face of Wang Qiang, the stoic face of his clan members as they bought his escape with their lives. Resolve firmed in him once again and it brought him through this first week of training even. Thankfully the rain finally stopped when the weekend came, and blissfully Fan Cheng told him he would be free to rest until the start of the new week!

Truly this impressed Fan Cheng a lot, by order of his father Fan Zhong was to be trained with the same harsh training style he had endured while studying under him. The difference was that Fan Cheng had years of physical conditioning and training to bulk up and prepare for such a grueling routine, Fan Zhong simply had not been through the necessary preparations. Although this may have been supplemented by him being older than when Fan Cheng went through it, he had been 12 at the time, he still had thought to go easier at least, to begin with.

He understood their father's reasoning, they had to be sure this was not an idle fancy of Fan Zhong's but truly something he wanted, however, his fondness for his siblings made putting on the stern front of an instructor difficult. Truly he had thought Fan Zhong would have quit and given up with this single week being equal to ten times the difficulty of the previous week he had spent training him. With his expectations met Fan Cheng reported the good news to his father. The entire weekend Fan Zhong only woke to eat his meals, enjoying a truly restful sleep throughout the rest of it.
 
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I do hope he gets chances to enjoy his other hobbies that he worked hard at becoming skilled in. It would be a shame to leave those by the wayside and forget that the Dao is within all things.
 
I spent the last couple of days reading about a lot of Traditional Chinese Medicine and Wuxia, and I'm not expert so maybe I'm misusing some terms, but:

It seems to me that the vast majority of cultivators focus exclusively on Jing (yang?) and Qi while ignoring Shen (yin?), BUT! Xing Zheng has not neglected his Shen (yin?), spending time working on his perception (counting falling rice grains) and whatnot. Is this correct? And if so, is it something you will explore with Fan Zhong? Or is that planned for later when Xing Zheng enters Fan Zhong's story?
 
As much as i personally love the mythos of traditional Chinese medicine I can say with certainty I am not an expert, however here's a little background knowledge on how energy ( Qi ) manipulation works in this setting ( that will hopefully give some context that answers your question). The idea is that mental energy is your brains ability to control your strength and how its applied, i.e. your brain lets you put your shoe on without shoving your foot into so hard you injure yourself, so on the mortal realms were we are dealing with more wuxia levels of power mental energy allows you to have more fine motor control over your muscles and body and use more of their strength without injuring yourself. As we move into the spirit levels of cultivation ( Qi condensation and beyond ) power levels of characters start to level the wuxia scale and move into the xanxia scale and so too does mental energies role, here you must have enough mental energy to control the amount of Qi you are using, hence why Xing Zheng's meridian inscription formation has 3 cores dedicated to increasing the amount of Qi his mental energy can control, if you try to generate or take hold of more Qi ( or any other form of energy ) than you have mental energy to metaphysical 'hold' it will go wild and explode most likely leaving you crippled or in the worst case a bloody smear on the ground. That is to say in so many words that Fan Zhong will inevitably have to learn some form of mental technique before reaching the master realm were he will start to be able to use Qi actively ( more on this later once we get there ). Thanks for the idea of Jing and Shen i did abit of googling and found some interesting material on this and i could definitely see some ways it can apply to the worldbuilding and setting i have already planned out.
 
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The idea is that mental energy is your brains ability to control your strength and how its applied
There's a lot to unpack from that, but I'll try to be concise. At its most basic, yes, that tracks with TCM/Wuxia/Xanxia, but it also is woefully incomplete. As a metaphor: looking at the yin/yang symbol, that is the little dot of yin in the yang side rather than the yin side. What of art, poetry, strategy, philosophy, perception, wisdom, music, logistics, logic, engineering, understanding, etc?
 
Part 1. Ch 7. New ways connecting old desires
At the dawn of the new week, Fan Zhong readied himself to begin his training once again. His exhaustion over the weekend had seen him do little but rest for almost three days. Now that his body had the time to heal, he once more felt that vibrant strand of energy run throughout his body pushing him to move forward.

As he and Fan Cheng began their morning run, thoughts of his progress over the last week of training bubbled to the surface. In all actuality he felt stunted, feeling no noticeable amount of progress in his techniques or martial understanding. Surely his ability to execute the various palm techniques had increased slightly and he did feel a bit faster, and stronger. Certainly, it now took more physical exertion to wear him out. However, these were hardly improvements one could point out or take notice of.

Of course, he understood that this was normal, in fact after Fan Cheng had pointed out to him how incredible his initial progress had been he could understand why many in the clan had thought his father was secretly feeding using clan resources to spur that progress. Many young clan warriors started training their bodies and martial knowledge from the moment they could walk and talk without falling over their own feet. Mind you they did not train in the sense Fan Zhong had been over the past few weeks, running themselves ragged and spending every waking hour dedicated to it, at least not until they were older.

However, when it came to simple exercise and striking drills with punches and kicks it was traditional to do small amounts of these at a very young age and then increase them as time went on. Starting training early was a key step to making sure young clan members would be able to pursue their martial paths in the process increasing their martial realms so they could be assets to the clan in the future as well as prolonging their lives. A popular saying among martial artists said "one's martial arts cultivation is akin to a tower meant to last for eternity. Knowing this, who would give such a tower anything but the most stable foundation?"

Fan Zhong had truly pushed the limits of his father's authority when he delayed his training so long, going as far as to beg and plead to have his martial training delayed. Many times during his youth the other boys had spent long hours in the practice yards sparring and trading pointers about technique and comparing who was stronger while he had spent time honing his art-based talents. He remembered reading stories during this time of immortal sects that had mountains that floated in the clouds upon which they resided away from the mortal world.

In these tales, he had been fascinated by those that had risen to immortality through non-marital paths, such as cultivating a zither heart by contemplating the Dao through music. In another tale, he heard of an immortal painter who painted and inscribed his understanding of the Dao through each brushstroke. This immortal would paint vistas so beautiful they would become infused with the laws of the world themselves turning into miniature pocket worlds that one could visit. Upon reading these stories he had become excited and had immediately asked his mother and father where he could study such paths. Perhaps he too could comprehend the Dao through his arts and in so doing receive their recognition.

He had figured that even if his arts would not immediately allow him to help with the clan activities surely he could raise his realm high enough to allow this right? For in the tales the immortal zither players were not just defenseless musicians. Surely they had comprehended the Dao through music however after understanding the world and Qi that flowed in it they had been able to play melodies that soothed their ally's minds and aided the cultivation of any path! So too when brought to anger the Immortal musicians would be able to imbue qi into the notes they played causing cutting waves of sound to sunder their enemies as well as any sword or dealing internal damage due foes through vibrating waves of Qi. Even the Immortal painter had been able to sweep away his enemies by painting the very air itself, painting true dragons and immortal phoenixes into being to do battle on his side.

However, reality is often cruel and upon bringing the matters up with his parents Fan Zhong had been extremely disappointed. According to them, no clan they knew of raised those who cultivated arts in such a way, in fact, these stories might be just that. Aside from there being no immediate teachers who could be hired to bring him on such a path they also informed him just how much of the clan resources it takes to raise a normal master realm martial artist let alone a specialist one. The amount was staggering easily being in the thousands of spirit stones and that was not even mentioning the normal decades it took for the individual to train using those resources.

With such a path he would not be able to have any practical skills until being able to manipulate Qi actively, something only those of Master Realm or above could do. Before that, he would simply be an absurdly talented artist who presented the possibility of being a potent asset. Without a teacher to pass on legacy techniques or guide the specialist on their path this possibility was not even guaranteed. What clan had the resources to raise someone to Master Realm with no promise of their usefulness? In the case of a non-martial cultivator, they would likely use even more resources to advance since gaining insight through battle and sparring would be useless for them until they had practical battle skills.

Considering this even Fan Long and Fan Yahui, who cared deeply for their children and also believed in allowing them to follow the paths of their hearts, could not waste clan resources so frivolously. However, not to be deterred Fan Yahui had used the Fan clan information network, formed by their various observer disciples who worked throughout the valley and in some places beyond, to look for a sect or school that could accommodate Fan Zhong's want to pursue a path to cultivate the arts. Searching far and wide, finally, when he was 9 years old his mother had succeeded and learned of a sect that claimed to be a true immortal sect with legendary Qi Condensation cultivators!

It truly seemed as if the heavens were aligning as coincidentally they had heard of this sect, called the "Three Melodies Blossom Pavilion" because one of the sect elders was traveling through the valley. Supposedly this elder was at the Qi Condensation realm and had agreed to meet Fan Zhong and judge him as a disciple hopeful on account of other valley musicians praising his talent in the lute. When the elder arrived Fan Zhong had been truly awed, supposedly the elder was over 100 years old however she looked no older than 20 years of age and walked with an ageless air of grace. He remembered she had strikingly bright pink hair that flowed down to her waist framing the bright red robes she wore that were trimmed in a pink that was slightly a shade darker than her hair.

When the elder's azure eyes had met his time had seemed to stop and the rest of his solo recital for her had played out like a fever dream with him never being able to look away from her piercing gaze. He had however remembered every word of her evaluation.

"Hmmm, truly commendable. Your fundamentals are nearly perfect for a mortal and the music does have a spark of something, however, you're no music prodigy. Young man, I'm not one to turn away someone from their path so I'll be honest with you. There are two types of music that truly push one onto the path of a music immortal, true genius, or genuine emotion. True genius you are not, unfortunately. Oh sure, compared to a local nation you are very talented. There actually may not be any mortal musicians within this entire valley as talented as you. However, that is not enough to be truly heavenly talented. If you were perhaps the most talented musician in this entire lesser region then perhaps you could qualify on talent alone." The elder's tone was contemplative and measured, however, no hint of malice or disdain touched it "Genuine emotion is born from experience, the perilous tragedy of your family being betrayed. A harrowing experience of survival in the wilderness before being rescued after braving the elements, surviving on wits and guile. Yearning feelings of seeking or searching for things you cannot put into words. These things genuinely expressed in your music when they cannot be expressed in words will resonate with your personal Dao, if this was the case I would be able to feel it with my zither heart. In short, you lack the raw talent to lean on talent alone and you lack the experiences to compose truly moving music. Perhaps because you've always lived here sheltered and safe? If you wish to come to the sect and travel with the outer sect entertainment groups you may eventually gain enough experience to enter the sect proper and begin on the path. Either that or set out tomorrow into the wilderness and find your Dao then come find us when you write music that truly resonates with you. Whatever you choose, I Zhen Li, Elder of the Three Melodies Blossom Pavilion guarantee you will always find a welcome place within our halls even if you're simply traveling through."

With that, she had called his mother in while handing her a small jade slip before excusing herself. After this, his mother had still attempted to find a sect that may allow him to pursue his calligraphy as a path of cultivation however no such opportunity had ever arisen. Fan Zhong had been deeply depressed by this and as such his time spent at the Soft Moonlight Hall had increased as had his taste for increasing amounts of wine.

Thinking back on the matter, Fan Zhong wondered if this Zhen Li was truly a legendary Qi Condensation Immortal. He had once questioned his mother about it, however, she had said that she could not tell either. However, she had said that the elder had contained incredible power. In fact, Zhen Li had so much power that the entire village of Fan Clan martial artists had been on edge while she was having the private recital with Fan Zhong. Apparently, she had been radiating her power as a warning to anyone who approached within hearing distance of their meeting.

At this point such things were too far away for him, in the present, he did not feel confident fighting a normal Third-Grade martial artist let alone worrying if the legendary immortal realms existed. Thinking back on the grueling time he spent learning the fundamentals of his lute however eased his mind concerning his martial progress, he supposed this was how progressing normally felt and he would simply have to get used to it. Finishing this thought he noticed they had arrived back at the clan training grounds atop the cliff overlooking the village.

Taking in the morning air and the clear skies, Fan Zhong breathed in deeply, enjoying the feeling of fresh morning air entering his lungs. All of last week the clouds had broiled and the rain had made the air cold, now the sun rose high in the sky heralded by the morning call of a myriad of birds that sang their morning song. Hearing this morning song, Fan Zhong started to hum along, feeling the thrum of the earth and all living things as they went about their lives.

As he continued humming along with the natural rhythm of the birds he unconsciously found himself falling into a void gate stance and started to incorporate the rhythm into a set of shifting palms. Continuing the set he started to incorporate the other palms into his movements using the high and low forms to punctuate high and low notes in the melody forming in his head. He knew Fan Cheng would have them move on to stance work next anyways and this was the first time he had felt any connection between his hobbies and his martial cultivation.

Perhaps it was because he had been thinking of such memories or maybe it was just a moment of inspiration brought on by the beauty of the vista one could see from the cliff. In any case, he brought the melody of humming and shifting palm strikes to a smooth conclusion after about 10 minutes of practicing. After finishing he stared at his hands and feet in pleasant surprise. Although the idea of incorporating arts into his martial cultivation was a simple one it honestly had never crossed his mind, but now after experiencing this feeling there was a hunger deep in his belly that wanted to feel that harmony once again.

"Done dancing brother? I hate to spoil the fun but as many maidens that may be wooed by your graceful movements I have a feeling your foes will be slightly less impressed." Fan Cheng laughed heartily as he clamped a hand on Fan Zhong's left shoulder coming to stand on his right so that his arm draped across the younger man's back.

"Ahh but brother if you continue being as stiff as the mountain when truly maidens approach instead of foes how will you impress them standing so still?" Fan Zhong teased him right back having become accustomed to going back and forth with Fan Cheng in their days of training

"Hmph, stiff as a mountain ehh? Perhaps you'd like to see if your brother's fist is as hard as a mountain when it meets your pretty face? Come, come, if you're to court fair maidens you need to know how to stop criminals from harming them." Fan Cheng motioned with his hand walking to the center of the training clearing.

With this, they started the stance work properly with Fan Zhong assuming his void gate stance. During this Fan Cheng would have him enter a meditative state to reflect on how his body felt in the stance, feeling out what the most natural motions to move while in this position were. While he was reflecting the punishment stick would meet him leaving stingy lumps of pain whenever his body drifted slightly out of stance.

Many times his elder brother would nudge and prod even when he was in a proper stance attempting to dislodge him from the form or make him flinch. Whenever he allowed one of these provocations to make him lose form a volley of punishment stick blows rained down on him. Eventually, Fan Cheng also started incorporating powerful blows that would stop right in front of his eyes or circular movements around him that were so fast they sent shockwaves of wind that would rustle the bamboo leaves in the first surrounding the clearing while shaking the roofs of the meditation huts.

After this, they continued drilling the palm forms. Fan Cheng would demonstrate the strikes slowly for his observation and then make him repeat the strike just as slowly. Whenever he went too fast and tried to rush the punishment stick would come down disrupting his technique and he would be forced to start over. Like this they went on for hours and hours, drilling the strikes into the air at excruciatingly slow speeds making sure the forms were observed down to the finest detail Fan Zhong could manage.

Following this, they would come to the final event of the evening, the two-person striking drill. One day Fan Zhong asked Fan Cheng the name of the drill and although it didn't have a proper name he noted clan warriors had a pet name for it that was "Two palms Shifting Heaven and Earth". This name had come on account of the drill mostly devolving into the two palm users trading a flurry of strikes from the shifting palm forms before eventually, someone found an opening to land a strike.

Supposedly this was inevitably what would happen given both opponents were similar in skill level. Fan Zhong however felt he would never get a chance to understand this as Fan Cheng had been his one and only opponent for the exercise. He had asked many times if an opponent more his skill level could be prepared, however, most of those at his skill level were two to three years his junior, with those at the initial of the Third-Grade realm still slightly younger than him. Fan Cheng had chastised him teasingly for wanting to beat up toddlers and had also reminded him they hadn't fully concluded the identity of his assailants yet.

With these factors against him, Fan Zhong was forced to meet the crushing palms of teaching his brother loved to throw his way. Although he knew better, he was almost starting to think Fan Cheng enjoyed beating him ragged.

"Very good, the intent in that blow was straightforward and honest; however that made it powerful and decisive. If you were faster that would easily have connected" Fan Cheng said as he stood over Fan Zhong's groaning form with a beaming smile while he offered a hand to pick him up.

In all of the time he had spent doing this drill with his elder brother he had not lasted more than 2 exchanges the entire time, and the time he last 2 exchanges he was convinced his brother had merely been showing off. That time he had used his off-hand to initiate a retreating shifting palm to parry his brother's 'Origin Palm' aimed at his dantian. He had thought that although the off-hand lacked the power it made up for it in speed and by preemptively using a retreating shifting palm he could bait his brother's advance to set up a receiving palm follow-up.

Instead, Fan Cheng had raised his off-hand and changed his 'Origin Palm' into the other half of an 'Earth Receiving Palm that used a lower sweeping kick to take out his lead leg and tug him forward off balance. Following that, a 'Heaven Recieveing Palm' grabbed the back of his head and rammed it into the ground. After this exchange Fan Cheng apologized profusely and even let him sit down and rest for a few moments. Apparently, he had caught the older boy by surprise and he acted on instinct delivering a far harsher blow than intended.

Upon this evening his Two palms Shifting Heaven and Earth drills went the same as they always had, each time his brother defeated him in a single exchange. This wasn't to say he wasn't learning anything; he noticed his blows had gotten sharper, and his footwork within the 'Voidgate Stance' now felt more natural when he rotated for shifting palms. Even today he had managed to actually stay on his feet after being struck for once!

Later that day, after the drills, Fan Zhong found himself sitting in his meditation hut at the lone low table provided to him. Almost unconsciously Fan Zhong took out the calligraphy tools his mother had given him for his warrior recognition ceremony. Feeling a hunger deep inside of him for the harmony felt earlier that day he took out the tools and began grinding some ink while setting out some paper and checking his brushes. Slowly he took up a brush and sat the ground ink in a container beside the paper on the table. Next, he closed his eyes and started emptying his mind as if to enter the void gate stance.

His breathing took on the same rhythm he had when practicing stances and strikes. Inwardly he felt as if all his senses were heightened. With a smooth practiced motion, he dipped the brush in ink and drew the first stroke envisioning the 'Origin Palm Strike' he opened during his drills with Fan Cheng. Surprisingly in his vision of the drill, he was able to see his brother start to subtly shift his weight muscles tensing small bits of clothing moving, it was as if he was moving in slow motion.

Continuing slowly Fan Zhong imagined his counter to his brother's shifting palm. In his mind, he was shifting his black leg forward and outside to the right where his attack arm was twisting that arm while he pulled his front leg back in a circular motion and extending that motion to turn his 'Origin Palm' into a shifting palm of his own inside Fan Cheng's guard. This time the fight sped up his mind straining to construct the image of his brother's movements going so slowly. He was just able to see Fan Cheng shift the angle of his shifting palm outward and bring his other arm up inside his guard. In the next instant, he blurred, catching Fan Zhong's counter in a receiving palm technique and sending a knee into his gut before slamming a vicious palm strike into his face followed by another knee.

In that instant Fan Zhong lost control of the imaginary fight in his head, his brush strayed and zipped across the paper drawing an ugly streak across it and ruining the piece. Staring at the paper Fan Zhong smiled, he understood that some journeys needed to take time and patience to understand. With this, he took the work and hung it up on his wall using some of the sticky tar usually used to seal bamboo tubes or keep candles in place upon their fixtures. Admiring the work he laughed, objectively it was one of the ugliest things he had ever made but to him it was special it was the first step. Of what he had no idea but as his brother had always said to him all journeys begin with the first step even if you don't know the destination.

Months of training followed this, Fan Zhong ardently training with his brother while using his quiet times to contemplate how his arts related to his martial paths. It took him three whole months before he was finally able to force Fan Cheng into a bout of three exchanges. That night he composed a song that contained his elation, when it was complete that resonating feeling deep within him was sparked once again.

After four months he finally reached what his brother recognized as the familiar realm of attainment in the 'Origin Palm Strikes'. Upon hearing this he had asked for a reprieve that was shockingly granted by Fan Cheng. During this reprieve, he sat upon the cliff edge overlooking the village and used his calligraphy tools to commemorate the occasion.

When he finished he looked upon the work and realized he had written the character for 'Resolve' while writing and contemplating how he felt about his attainment. Surprisingly the lines felt very staccato and stoic. Square lines greeted the edges of the character while sharp and angular accents trimmed the whole thing truly embodying how he perceived the concept of firming one's resolve. This piece he hung right next to the first upon which once again something deep inside him resonated adding another spark to the growing flame.

By the end of the sixth month, he had finally reached a familiar level with all of the basic palm forms, each of them seeming far easier to comprehend after he achieved familiar attainment with one set. During all of these months, he had been through such arduous training and now he finally had reached what felt like the starting line. Although exhausted he felt an immense sense of accomplishment, this had truly been the labor of hard work and effort!

Not only of the martial path but of his own unique path. Originally he had started this training with the body of a scholar now he had a slimming figure that started to show signs of growing muscles. Fan Cheng had not only taught him martial arts, but in his knowledge lessons, he had learned survival craft for surviving in the wilderness. Everything from hunting and preparing small game for cooking to crafting and finding shelter as well as navigation and a few more utility skills for survival.

Truly, although his recognition ceremony had named him a man, now he felt like a man one in truth. If asked to, now he could truly survive if he found himself stranded without even the barest necessities, he was confident in his ability to survive the elements! However, when would a noble son like him ever find himself stripped naked in some untamed wilderness? Now though Fan Zhong felt he had far more understanding and sympathy for those that wanted to be trained for such unlikely circumstances, having the knowledge to deal with such things brought about its own feeling of peace of mind.

"A threshold indeed little brother. Feeling proud of familiar attainment in the clan martial style is a great milestone in your martial path. Take tomorrow as an extension of your weekend, come the new week prepare yourself. Now that you've reached such familiarity we will undertake the next step in your training" Fan Cheng said with a smile on his face

"Eld… Elder brother surely we can keep training? This junior is not so unfilial he needs such pampering!" Fan Zhong panicked, for the usual training-hungry Fan Cheng to be so willing to give him an extra day off there must be something truly wicked planned behind that smile of his.

"Hmph junior you wound my heart so! Go! This master has only good intentions for you, stop letting your mind wander!" With this Fan Cheng's smile grew even wider and he disappeared with a booming shockwave of air heralding his speeding exit.

Fan Zhong did his best to stop his mind from racing upon the possibilities, his father and brother wouldn't do anything too extreme, surely?
 
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Omake: The Darkness of a Frustrated Artist
In short, you lack the raw talent to lean on talent alone and you lack experiences to compose truly moving music. Perhaps because you've always lived here sheltered and safe?

The Darkness of a Frustrated Artist

Fan Zhong felt the bite of irony.
Too talented to set aside his pursuits and be happy on the martial path, not talented enough to progress on the artistic.
Too wealthy to suffer for his art, too poor to support it.
It was as if the Heavens attempted to play a joke on him and it fell flat.

He gave up on self improvement and wallowed in his pleasures, growing only in stewing resentment and despair he never acknowledged.
When he was finally forced to practice martial arts, he struggled his way through, doing his best to avoid further work, and when his friend's family was killed the clan was too distracted to force the issue.
He was left to his own devices, the perpetual disappointment.

Eventually the Dark Practitioner was hunted down and killed, but then things went... odd.
Supposedly all his tools and notes had been destroyed, but there were quiet rumors that some had been taken.
Anytime someone advanced or succeeded over someone else, rumors would spring up.
Arguments became more frequent.
Trust was ground down.
People whispered of a shadowy form sneaking around the compound and strange graffiti appearing.
And through it all Fan Zhong spitefully observed how their "strength" and "honor" failed in the face of gossip and resentment.
It seemed there were some things you just couldn't punch through.

Finally everything boiled over.
People started making accusations, lashing out, and it seemed that everyone went mad.
The clan tore itself apart in an orgy of violence with his younger sister dying in his arms from a poison after saving his life.

And with that Fan Zhong finally knew suffering.

He pillaged the remaining resources from the clan, used them to strengthen himself as much as possible, and went to join the Three Melodies Blossom Pavilion.
Even as his power and cultivation grew, he continued to search for the perpetrator of his clan's destruction.
It was obvious to him that someone had to be behind it.
Perhaps they had been corrupted by the Dark Practitioner's teachings?
Or maybe he had an accomplice?

No matter how hard he looked or who he questioned, he never found even a hint of who could have done it.
Eventually his teacher told him that if he was unable to resolve this issue in the real world, he would have to confront his heart devil directly or he would never advance.
This eventually brought him to the Heart's Mirror.

Fan Zhong sat in meditation and found himself in the ruins of his home.

"Finally here to confront the one who killed your family?" A shadowed figure spoke from the darkness.

"You!" Fan Zhong jumped to his feet, but quickly regained control of himself. "This world is created by me, it cannot include other people. You are my heart devil."

"True, some may call me that. But I prefer to think of myself as a helper. I am the one who acknowledges what you refuse to look at." The figure smiled.

Fan Zhong scoffed, "You are my frustration over being unable to find my family's killer. What is there to acknowledge?"

It shook its head. "Not quite. I am the resentment you felt over being unable to cultivate your art. You've never truly recognized how powerful I am."

Fan Zhong frowned. "Why would you still be with me? I've achieved those dreams, and reached even higher than I could ever imagine. Surely you would be dissipated by my success?"

It smiled. "I would be, but you still have not fully recognized me. Let me ask you this, how did you achieve that success? Where did you get the resources of an entire clan? How did you experience the cruelty of the world?"

"It was from the loss of my family! A pain I endure to this day!" Fan Zhong snarled.

It spread its hands. "You're very welcome. I worked hard for your sake."

Fan Zhong felt like his mind would explode. "How?! How could a mere heart devil from an untrained child do such a thing!?"

It grinned savagely, "You underestimate youself, and your calligraphy was never tested. The valley was filled with resentful qi from the destruction of the dark practitioner and I was strengthened enough to act around the edges. With everyone on edge all I had to do was... stir the pot. So. Like i said in the beginning. You have finally come to confront the one who killed your family. What will you do now?"
 
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Part 1. Ch 8. Fight like a warrior, move like a warrior, think like a warrior.
The extended weekend came as a nice reprieve for Fan Zhong and he mostly spent it attempting to compose new songs to chronicle his experiences. At the end of the weekend, he even made a calligraphy piece that resonated deeply with him of the character for 'palm'. The piece used soft curving lines with a few that were thick and sturdy like a mountain. He felt this perfectly encompassed his feelings on the clan palm style, soft while searching for an opening with steady and stoic blows to finish the fight.

Through these experimental forms of reflection, understanding came to him. For minor breakthroughs and moments, he found his musical talents were more effective in helping consolidate the insights he gained. When it came to calligraphy minor benefits could be gained by envisioning fights with opponents but normally those pieces ended with ugly marks across them resulting in little actual progress. He found that where calligraphy truly shined was after breakthroughs to make breathtaking pieces representing the total of his experiences with a technique, style, or skill.

"Today we start the training of a proper clan warrior. Until now you have learned the palm techniques which allow the clan warriors to serve as such excellent bodyguards reacting in situations where access to weapons is not guaranteed." Fan Cheng calmly explained.

Both he and Fan Zhong stood in the middle of the training clearing facing each other with ten paces of space between them. Fan Zhong stood upright, hands clasped behind his back studiously absorbing his brother's words. Fan Cheng meanwhile stood opposite him a pair of staves held vertically to either side, one in each hand.

The staves were slightly taller than either Fan Cheng or Fan Zhong, who stood around the same height of 1.8m, with each having an intricate set of fan clan crests carved into a ring around the shaft at either end.

"However, although clan warriors can go into battle bare-handed we are not without weapons. Indeed when it is known that battle awaits us the humble staff is what our clan trains in. Now don't be deceived although the staff may not have the cutting power of a sword even normal bamboo staves can crack skulls when swung by the strong bodies of martial artists. These however are no normal staves they are made from Green Palm Bamboo and are Mortal Magical Treasures cut into shape by the clan craftsmen. This bamboo grows close to the shores of the Flowing Grass River in wide fields of Flowing Grass that are aspected to wood and water elements. In such an environment the bamboo feeds off the concentrated wood qi of the grass becoming a natural wood-aligned treasure." Speaking with a scholarly tone Fan Cheng paused briefly to throw the staff in his left hand to Fan Zhong.

Catching the staff in one hand Fan Zhong almost stumbled forth before righting himself and taking the staff in both hands. The bamboo staff felt smooth in his hands and heavier than he would have expected. Naturally, he had trained with a normal staff a few times as a child however as a trainee he had never had a chance to hold the weapon of a true warrior. Perhaps he could have requested to if he had been interested in martial arts earlier in life but he supposed his lazing about had caused those chances to slip through his fingers. A loud crack pulled his attention back to Fan Cheng and he was surprised to see a metal shield had been placed on the ground.

The shield now lay in pieces around a crater that ended at the end of the lower part of Fan Cheng's staff, the upper half setting in his upturned palm in void gate stance and his main hand resting a palm on top of the lower portion of his staff. Immediately Fan Zhong was able to tell from the stance and body position that Fan Cheng had executed an origin palm strike and somehow carried the force into the end of his staff, shattering the shield.

" As you can see the Green Palm Bamboo is made from a mortal natural treasure of the 5% grade and even with that low of a grade it is harder than steel. Don't think of your Green Palm Bamboo as a simple bamboo weapon, when you wield it swords will shatter and armor will break." Fan Cheng's tone was solemn as if a painful memory of underestimating the weapon's attack power was running through his mind.

Meanwhile, Fan Zhong was shocked. Although the staff was a bit heavier than he expected it was by no means as heavy as a fully metal weapon. With this, he had the durability and striking power of a weapon that was superior to steel while maintaining the lightweight and speed of an actual bamboo staff. Considering just this fact alone he understood why a weapon made of even low-grade natural treasures was so prized.

In his mind, a question stirred. If low-grade natural treasures were this strong and durable then how strong were even mid or better yet high-grade natural treasures? He knew little of natural or magical treasures but seeing this staff lit a fire in him to discover more about the subject. Carefully he made a mental note to question Fan Cheng on such things during his knowledge lessons.

"Now you may remember that our clan style cultivates earth Qi and as such our qi techniques receive no help from these staves. Indeed since earth overcomes wood in the elemental cycle our techniques would be 5% weaker when used this way. However we don't need them as technique amplifiers, they are simply high-quality weapons. If you ever break through to the master realm the clan will spare no expense to make an earth-aligned magical treasure for you." Fan Cheng finished and flourished his staff, raising his off-hand and seeming to somehow spin the staff on his palm as his main hand resumed its readied posture for the void gate stance. In this posture, his offhand dipped slightly back to him and the staff stopped with the center of gravity resting it at his offhand palm, his main hand palm resting on top of the lower end of his staff. "The good news is that the clan staff and palm techniques don't differ, once you get used to the feeling of the weapon and maneuvering it your technique attainment in the palm techniques will allow you to transfer the force of your strikes into the weapon. To begin with, we will be learning to maneuver the staff. The clan technique for this is to use a method called 'contact juggling' where you maintain contact points with the weapon along your body to allow it to seemingly slide and spin freely within your forms. Here, this master will show you!"

With these final words, Fan Cheng nudged his staff with his main hand and sent it spinning in his offhand palm. He then pushed his arm forward and the staff seemed to glide on his elbow while still spinning before it rode up onto his shoulder around the back of his neck, as he ducked his head to avoid the spinning weapon, and then proceeded down his main hand shoulder and elbow into his waiting palm. A shockwave boomed as he spun it one more time in his hand before slamming the butt into the ground smiling, apparently very pleased with his display.

"Simple for a heaven-defying genius like you, no?" The Grin on Fan Cheng's face grew even wider

For the next three hours, Fan Zhong attempted to mimic the spinning movements of his brother's contact juggling. After the hundredth time, he dropped the weapon he gave up counting. By the end of the session, he was just barely able to execute a basic origin palm and then use the contact juggling to execute a spin on his offhand palm to reset the staff into his void gate stance.

That night he wrote a song that was filled with subtle emotion. It spoke of the hubris of the frog in the well and the realization one made when one understood how much bigger the world was. In this way his eyes had been opened, he had thought his progress in the clan techniques was truly a large step however after discovering that he still could not even use the clan's weapons he felt his achievements were truly too small.

Even though he had known the clan trained with staffs as their primary weapon he had always seen his brother and father speaking as well as using palm techniques. But of course, they could! His father and brother were master and grandmaster realm martial artists respectively. They could utilize Qi taking advantage of the palm force created when using the techniques. This gave him a new appreciation for how truly terrifying his brother's achievements were, master realm at only 16 years old.

He decided to finish the piece with a hopeful crescendo. One that spoke of enjoying the journey and accepting the progress he had with each step, the rising crescendo heralding the adventure going ever forward. With that, he got up and carefully removed the spirit stones that powered the relighting formation on his hut's torches, gently cupping the remaining flame and blowing it out.

When the birds heralded the morning Fan Zhong met his training with a renewed determination. He truly felt as if the morning melody was mimicking the hopeful crescendo of his late-night works. The day progressed as normal and with it, he was finally able to execute all three of the 'Origin Palms' consistently while using contact juggling to slide the staff along his body to resume his stance.

Upon the next day, his ability to use the shifting palms with his staff and contact juggling started to form with only a few hundred drops of his weapon. That night his song spoke of shifting sands and winds, evasive sounds that rose and gave way when the crescendo reached a peak heralding a sudden change to quiet retreating notes. Ending this tune were sharp staccato tones that brought to one's mind decisive blows that pierce all defensives resembling the shifting stances having found an opening that gave way to aggressive fight-ending counters.

On the third day, he started working on his receiving palm techniques with the staff. These proved more difficult for him as the receiving palms usually involved both hands and had no obvious striking points for the staff. After conversing with Fan Cheng on how to incorporate the weapon into the techniques his brother revealed that the receiving part it was mainly put into the stronger of the two palms that formed the receiving technique.

This was to reinforce the disruptive power of the counter by holding the staff parallel to the body; one would also bring the weapon into position to aid the follow-up hit. After this one could guide the staff with their foot in the path of the follow-up kick or knee strike using the weapon as a transfer medium for the hit just like a palm strike. With this guidance Fan Zhong's appreciation for the versatility of contact juggling combined with the clan style grew by leaps and bounds.

For the rest of the week, Fan Zhong worked primarily on his receiving palm techniques although he did still practice the others. By the end of this week, he finally felt comfortable executing all of the techniques and using contact juggling to return to his void gate stance. With the week over and more free time during the weekend, he decided to compose another song. One that wandered containing notes from all parts of the spectrum before building all of these melodies and notes into a single combined melody that decrescendoed to a soft and peaceful ending.

To him this song spoke of taking in all experiences from a variety of angles, accepting all parts of the world and bringing them to the origin. In all the world he felt that nothing represented the receiving palm techniques better than this song. Quickly he decided that it was the best of his compositions that had been inspired by the palm techniques.

Upon reviewing the previous songs he started making slight improvements. Changing a note here and there, adding tempo changes and more complex dynamics. Before he knew it he had spent most of the weekend changing all of the songs into a set of pieces made to be played one after the other. Now only one day of his weekend remained. Calming himself and looking inward he felt like he was on the precipice of something, the resonance that dwelt deep inside him vibrating to fill him with energy.

Immediately sitting down at his low table, he began preparing his calligraphy tools by the light of the noon sun. Shortly he fell into a deep state of concentration, his brush holding still for long moments as he reflected on the experience of integrating his palm techniques with the staff as a weapon. Countless memories flowed through his mind as he remembered the myriad of small corrections he had made to his technique, constantly improving them by removing excess movements and controlling his momentum more.

Upon this recollection Fan Zhong realized that he had not only improved his ability to integrate techniques with the staff but also his intrinsic understanding of the style and techniques as a whole had improved. He was confident if they trained unarmed palm techniques again that instant he would be better than before he started training with a weapon. With this final realization his state of concentration ended and he stared at the piece that was now illuminated by moonlight.

The entire day had been consumed however looking at his work he felt no regrets. Upon the calligraphy, paper sat the symbol for "Fan", his clan name. Truly this was the most fitting piece to represent his experience, in the world there may be different palm styles and perhaps not all of them were not similar to the Fan clan style. However, his experiences as well as these songs truly represented the Fan clan uniquely with their martial style, this truth he felt deeply in his heart. Quickly underneath the calligraphy symbol, he wrote the title " Journey to Subdue the Heavens" and used the calligraphy piece as a cover. Next, he placed it on top of the musical sheets that had been organized in the order he thought they should be played.

With this finished a rush of air pushed out in all directions from Fan Zhong and all of his torches momentarily went out before they relit. By the time the formations inside the torches came back to life Fan Zhong had already slumped over and fallen asleep at his table, truly exhausted. Fan Cheng, who had rushed over after sensing the wave air emanating from his brother's training hut, looked upon his sleeping brother and smiled.

Quickly he pulled his brother into the bed and blew out the torches after removing their spirit stones. Lastly, he dusted off the cover of Journey to Subdue the Heavens while carefully putting away his brother's papers and calligraphy tools. Silently he returned to his hut smiling with anticipation for what new surprises his little brother would show in the coming days.

Beginning the next week Fan Zhong continued to practice the integration of weapon and palm technique. To change this up Fan Cheng had them once again begin the partner drills. Noticeably Fan Cheng seemed to be far gentler while dueling with weapons. It quickly became obvious that he was incredibly worried about injuring Fan Zhong during a weapons drill.

This suited Fan Zhong fine as he was able to extend the drill to a record of 5 whole exchanges now that his elder brother was more restricted! While Fan Cheng may have had to hold back more he was meanwhile free to push his improving strength to the limit. Naturally, he had no concerns about hurting someone in the master realm, the gulf of strength was simply far too large.

Although initially, he had trouble understanding how his techniques had improved after his reflections he was quickly able to understand after once again drilling with Fan Cheng. Previously his transition between each technique had been marked by brief pauses or awkwardness, to an outside observer it was obvious each technique was a separate set of actions with little connection. Now that his experience had been consolidated each of his strikes connected into each other flowing from one technique to the next.

This was no master-level execution where the techniques were indistinguishable as separate moves; however, he was no longer impeded by clear pauses and awkward connecting motions that were not a part of his techniques. Fan Zhong surmised that previously his technique attainment was only at the initial crest of the familiar realm barely qualifying to be recognized as such. With his new gains although he had not brought his understanding to a new realm he felt that he was firmly within the middle stages of the familiar realm. With increasing practice, he would be well on his way to the expert realm.

They continued training and drilling deep into the week and before Fan Zhong even realized it another week had passed. On the last day of this week, his older brother stopped their drills early for the day and began a new lesson.

"Finally you can fight like a warrior, now you must learn to move and sense like a warrior. We begin with sensing. You understand that mental energy is the primary separator between Second and Third-grade martial artists, yes? Since this is the case you need to prepare your mind to strengthen and train your mental energy. Remember mental energy passively increases your ability to perceive things, the speed at which you think, and your ability to exert more strength without hurting yourself. The mental exercise our warriors use is called 'observing the roaming earth' and it focuses on identifying the minute changes in an object. When fully trained you will be able to see the smallest tensing of muscles and movement of clothing from an opponent and to them it will seem as if you can predict the future, knowing their movements before they make them." Explaining this he motioned for Fan Zhong to sit down in the center of the clearing and went to one of the huts retrieving a box that had an opened top with a small nozzle on one side of the inside.

On the bottom of the box were innumerable small stones. After he reached Fan Zhong his elder brother sat down opposite him on the ground setting the box between them.

"You will observe the stones in the box and whenever one of them even minutely moves you will touch it, this will cause the stone to light up and stay in place. Meanwhile, I will operate a fan outside this nozzle that will send a soft wind into the box to disturb the stones. We shall start easy with major movements and slowly I will make the stones move less while requiring you to identify the movements faster. This curtain over the nozzle will obscure my hands so that you cannot see what I am doing, your eyes and concentration are not to leave the box under any circumstances until the exercise is done if they do… hehehehe" Fan Cheng laughed while smiling eerily and spinning his punishment stick in his off-hand.

It turned out that the punishment stick also fell whenever Fan Zhong took too long to notice one of the stones moving. The box was about 1 meter by 1 meter and was fairly large with over a hundred stones of varying size within it all of which were still as the dead. True to his word the beginning movements were bursts of wind from the nozzle that sent each of the stones rocking at the bottom of the box and although Fan Zhong was hit a few times he mostly managed it.

However, after an hour of the exercise, he was exasperated and demanded that his elder brother show him which stone moved after being hit. Every time without fail after he was shown the correct stone, and Fan Cheng repeated the subtle streak of wind, he was able to see the slight rocking of the stone with great concentration. This exercise truly vexed him, it had the boringness of watching bamboo dry in the sun while making him stay on guard and alert as if dozens of enemy weapons were flying at him.

Fan Cheng only continued the lesson for a few minutes after the hour mark motioning for him to stand as he stowed away the box before returning to the clearing.

"Next we will work on moving like a warrior. The movement technique we will be working on is named "Momentum of Shifting earth" and has roots in the shifting palm techniques you learned while striking. With this, you take the momentum gained while moving and rotate it to support your new motion. The results of this are you must take wider circular motions such as when you do the footwork for the shifting palm strikes, this will allow you to gradually change the direction of your momentum while losing minimal amounts of energy in the effort. Observe!" Finished explaining Fan Cheng executed a set of shifting palm footwork forward.

The first set of movements was slow and exaggerated for Fan Zhong's sake however the second step he took his upper and lower body moved in circular motions shifting and redirecting the momentum of his first step into the second. Soon the second step was slightly faster than the first and the next even faster than that. By the time Fan Cheng had taken 5 steps he was moving at a speed Fan Zhong could barely keep up with and on the 6th step, he turned into a blur. Next, he sped back to his original position and released the momentum into a palm strike that sent a shockwave of air rippling throughout the clearing.

" As you can see the technique is not only for movement it can also be channeled into strikes, conversely when your mastery is high enough you can generate momentum from your palm techniques and convert it into speed for movement. Even the force made from contact juggling your weapon can be made into movement speed or striking force with enough practice. Now take your stance. This exercise is more akin to our stance training. You will go through the motions slowly and I will guide you." Fan Cheng finished explaining and took up an observing posture beside him, carefully examining his brother.

Thus ensued another hour of training that dwarfed any session of stance training Fan Zhong had ever done. He felt as if he had been hit more times during this one hour for corrections to his movements than he had been in the entire last month of stance training and technique practice combined! Thankfully his brother also cut this session short as they were running out of time.

" Good we will now take the time of day dedicated to drilling and alternate between movement and mental exercises while honing your skill in stance practice. For striking practice, we will alternate every day between open hand and weapon training. Get some good rest little brother, for we have far to climb on the mountain of martial arts tomorrow!" Fan Cheng's last words boomed from his chest as he broadly smiled at Fan Zhong before he disappeared in a rush of wind.

The next bout of training was like a fever dream for Fan Zhong, weeks of arduous training with his new areas of work being far more taxing than his initial hardships had ever been. At one point he swore his dreams had been filled with nothing but the image of an endless field of stones with demons popping up from beneath them trying to steal his soul if he didn't look at them. Another set of dreams plagued him of the world constantly spinning causing him to fall over in a dizzy heap whenever he stood, a constant state he ended up in when his attempts to redirect momentum went wrong and he ended up spinning out of control.

It took him until the end of the year, slightly longer than 5 whole months, to reach the familiar realm in the mental exercise and the movement technique. The day his brother claimed he had reached the threshold for both he exclaimed excitedly and that night he determined that he would write two more complementary works to his original music, completing a set that would encapsulate everything about the full style of a Fan clan warrior. However when he arrived at his hut, sleep overtook him and he resigned himself to starting work in the morning, he would use all weekend to finish this masterpiece! However when he woke Fan Zhong was horrified to find himself feeling incredibly groggy and unclear of his surroundings.

Sitting up he found that he was in a brightly lit forest with sturdy trees instead of bamboo. Beside him rested his staff, a hunting knife, and what looked like a full travel pack. With his expression growing more horrified by the moment he could only listen to the deep sounds of the forest waking up to a fresh morning, exactly what had happened to get him here?
 
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Sitting up he found that he was in a brightly lit forest with sturdy trees instead of bamboo. Beside him rested his staff, a hunting knife, and what looked like a full travel pack. With his expression growing more horrified by the moment he could only listen to the deep sounds of the forest waking up to a fresh morning, exactly what had happened to get him here?

He's been kidnapped!
He should set the forest on fire to fight back!
 
I love how he is using his attainments in the non-martial paths to solidify his experiences in training. It keeps those facets of his character alive and helps flesh him out as a character and not random xianxia character 137639...
 
Part 1. Ch 9. First day, First step
All around Fan Zhong stretched the deep foliage of the forest rustling and bristling with the awakening life of the morning. Slowly getting his wits back his first movements were scrambling to the pack pulling his knife and staff over as well. Inside the pack sat his clan warrior robes and about a single day's worth of dried meat ration.

Along with this the pack also contained a three-meter by three-meter waterproof cloth that he vaguely remembered could be used to construct makeshift shelters. Besides this, the pack also contained a simple meal kit complete with a plate, spoon, and a pot for cooking. Finally, the remaining items consisted of a 10m coil of rope and a single piece of paper with a note from presumably his brother or father.

"The will of heaven is mysterious and unknowable. Tribulations and calamities strike at all times, survive and prove your worth! Four marks the death of the boy and five marks the birth of a man, have faith in rescue and persevere."

Reading through the note a feeling of annoyance and dread rose within him. He had been left with a single day's worth of rations and a pittance of supplies. Yet if his interpretation of this message was correct, he would have to survive 5 whole months before rescue came! Previously Fan Zhong would give in to despair causing him to be unable to move forward and take care of himself.

Now he felt the passion to prove himself. So, they thought that this lazy young master would buckle under such trials? He would show them that his metamorphosis had been more than merely skin deep. With his now resolved firm, Fan Zhong quickly set about scouting his environment.

To begin with he marked the largest bamboo shoot near him and sat the pack next to it before covering it with some leaves. Satisfied the pack was obscured sufficiently he looked up to the rising sun and determined his cardinal directions. After that he marked a bamboo in each direction with the symbols for north, south, east, and west, making sure to keep each mark within sight of his supplies.

Observing the terrain around him Fan Zhong felt that although the dense foliage could be any number of locations within the valley the cooler temperatures inclined him to think that this place was closer to one of the mountains that bordered the valley. Since the village was located on the southern banks of the Flow Grass River logically the closer of the two mountains should be Green Mists Mountain which made up the southern border of the valley proper.

With this determination, he guessed that home was naturally north and south would lead him further towards the base of the mountain with the forest becoming wilder in that direction. Thinking of this he started to worry slightly. Although some clans and martial sects did have their lands at the base of each mountain that made up the valley they were usually heavily walled off.

The reason for this was the increasing amount of wild animals and spirit beasts one encountered as they moved into less settled areas. Normal animals, even the stronger ones like bears and mountain lions, were only truly a threat to martial artists in the Second and Third-grade realms. However, even low-tier spirit beasts could be a threat to experienced First-grade realm fighters if they were old enough. Not to mention the chances of meeting a powerful Beast King.

Shuddering Fan Zhong determined he would need to keep a low profile. The chances of encountering spirit beast were not too high and encountering groups large enough to have a Beast King were even lower however, tempting the heavens was something only fools did. Briefly, the thoughts of heading towards home crossed his mind but those were easily dismissed.

Even if he could gather the supplies to make it that far it was likely that silent observers at the First-grade realm or higher were watching to make sure he stayed within a certain area. If he got close to the edge of the trial likely an unpleasant experience of unconsciousness would be followed by once again waking inside the bounds of the trial area. With those thoughts leaving his mind Fan Zhong decided to first scout West in hopes of finding a source of water.

Along the edges of the valley, many streams ran down from the mountains to join the Flowing Grass River it was in finding one of these that he staked his hope. Every 100 paces or so he would stop to mark a tree with a slash of the hunting knife. Soon he noticed the surrounding forest rising on the horizon while the rest of the forest nearby sloped gradually downwards.

This terrain formed a natural wide ravine with the ground flattening off in small steps on the downward slope where some bamboo shoots grew. After walking for what felt like about 10 minutes, his internal clock the only thing to go off at this point, Fan Zhong noticed the sloping terrain had become clear of tall bamboo filling with low shrubs and grass. After around half an hour the ravine had sloped down enough that the forest to the south had become a sheer cliff while the northern terrain sloped sharply down making a steep hill that leveled off with the ground of the ravine.

The clifftop had a small stream that ran off it dropping to the ravine and had formed a small pond that had a medium-sized clearing around it before giving way to more bamboo forest after some way. Coming to the pond Fan Zhong tensed while ducking down in the tallest brush he could find, moving slowly towards the water. At this point, he was still in high spirits however the constant snagging of his robe on foliage and the beating sun were beginning to irritate him.

Although the physical exertion of moving through the forest was minor compared to the training he had endured, the stress of being alone with no support was weighing heavily on his mind. With this added stress each snag of his robes on a branch and each clump of dirt that clung to him was amplified making him feel filthy and miserable. When he was about 10 meters from the edge of the pond a low growl pierced the air.

In the corner of his eye Fan Zhong could see the rustling of the foliage and soon it revealed the body of a medium-sized wolf. At first, the wolf was barely perceptible, almost transparent. As it approached the body of the creature became more clear revealing a wolf whose fur shimmered in the light, still partially transparent.

Instantly fear crept into Fan Zhong's belly as he remembered the creature, a water wolf. Water wolves were among the lowest level spirit beasts that roamed the valley and usually roamed in packs. Even being a weak spirit beast its strength was said to be equal to a third-grade martial artist, in this case at least as strong as Fan Zhong himself. In his studies, Fan Zhong had learned water wolves mainly hunted using their ability to manipulate a cloak of water Qi around them to shift light making them transparent and hard to see.

At the moment he felt there was little time to think about such things as he sensed the muscles tensing on the creature's body. With a rush of air, the wolf was on him in an instant and only his training in the clan mental techniques saved his life. As his senses had predicted to him the wolf lunged forward for a bite to his left leg.

Fan Zhong attempted to use a preemptive shifting palm with his offhand on his staff, aiming for the side of the beast's head. However midway through the biting lunge, the wolf shifted its attack bringing one of its clawed paws up to swipe at his side while lowering its head to duck his counter. Fan Zhong watched with horror as the claw ripped into his side and batted him 10m away into the clearing beside the pond.

Pain flooded his mind, more intense and powerful than any he had received while training with his brother. At once a realization came to him, this was a real fight with his life on the line not a drill or training exercise. This creature was hungry and he was its prey, if he continued in this way all that awaited was a trip to the beast's stomach.

The fear that had been thrashing inside of him broke loose and Fan Zhong did not even spare a glance back at the wolf before running with all his might. He had only gotten a dozen paces when his mind screamed at him to move and he threw himself left, landing on his knees. Dust and dirt kicked up in a cloud as it covered his body briefly obscuring his vision. A crashing sound brought him back to reality as he looked up to find the wolf had skidded past him, jaws clamping down where his back shoulder had just been.

Unable to stop the momentum of such a powerful charge the wolf had ended up a few meters ahead of him blocking the path. Coldness seemed to seep into Fan Zhong's side as blood dripped from the wound. With it came clarity as he calmed himself.

Now able to think more he immediately understood how much of an idiot he had been. What were the last few months of practicing movement techniques for if he was not going to use them? Surely he was not Fan Cheng's match, moving like the wind. However, he knew from experience that with a few steps that utilized the Momentum of Shifting Earth his movement could be 10-20% faster than normal, perhaps fast enough to escape his current predicament.

With a firm plan Fan Zhong assumed the void gate stance with his staff and started circling the wolf with a circular step akin to the shifting palm. Presenting his weapon at the creature in a threatening manner while in stance seemed to make it warry and he bought enough time to take three of the shifting palm stance steps while building his momentum. Taking his fourth step Fan Zhong feinted as if he was going to deliver a rising earth origin palm technique from his right side and then swept his momentum outward away from the creature.

Following this, his next step carried him past the wolf who had dodged to his left to avoid the blow. Now firmly with the momentum of five steps, Fan Zhong pushed himself in earnest to maximize his speed back the way he had come. Every step caused him to wince as his side screamed in pain. After 10 steps another snapping sound rang out from mere centimeters away causing his hair to stand on end. Rapidly he took three more steps and shifted his momentum towards the cliff face blocking the southern edge of the ravine.

Facing the looming wall he sprinted full speed at it with another three steps taking him within five meters of the wall. With all of his might Fan Zhong pushed off with his legs and jumped, sending all the force and momentum he had gathered in his movement technique into the ground to attempt to leap onto the cliff that loomed five meters high. Body met rock and as the crushing pain of crashing into the cliff face rushed through his body Fan Zhong inwardly smiled as his hands held onto the edge of the clifftop.

Finally, with the last burst of exertion Fan Zhong pulled himself up and rolled his body over the cliff edge breathing heavily. Below he could hear the snarls and whines of the water wolf as it attempted to reach him. Slowly and painfully Fan Zhong dragged himself to his feet while clutching at the wound on his side.

It took him an hour to reach his pack, lying low and skulking through the brush the whole way. By the time he arrived dirt and grime caked his once pristine robe while scarlet stained the makeshift bandages he had cut from the hem of his robe with the hunting knife. Every pore of his body ached while stinging bug bites seemed to cover anywhere that dirt didn't.

Slumping down next to the bamboo shoot his pack rested under Fan Zhong closed his eyes and emptied his mind, trying to take stock of his situation. He knew that spirit beasts weren't uncommon within the more wild portions of the valley's forests. Lone spirit beasts were normally not an issue as they stayed isolated in their territories and rarely hunted humans maliciously.

Indeed 'spirit beasts' were usually the offspring of natural animals that had lived in Qi-rich environments for a long time. In environments with heavier amounts of natural treasures, spirit beasts would eventually form the entire ecosystem and begin interbreeding leading to rumors of exotic animals that defied normal logic. However, the Flowing Grass Valley was not known to be such a place, except in the waters of the Flowing Grass River.

The River was naturally rich in Qi and was home to a diverse number of spirit fish however the mountains that made up the valley were considered low in natural Qi and therefore the forests were a mix of sparse amounts of spirit beats and normal animals. Spirit beasts themselves only became dangerous as individuals if they lived for thousands or tens of thousands of years, as they naturally cultivated the power of heaven and earth in their bodies. Legends spoke of sentient spirit beast races such as the true dragons however Fan Zhong had never met such an intelligent beast and knew of no one who had.

To his knowledge, the valley only gathered to exterminate spirit beasts when there was a large number of them that were forming a community. In an environment like the valley, even communities of weak spirit beasts could quickly overpower the local environment and starve the other animals of resources. This would lead to a failure of the ecosystem as well as causing the spirit beast community, at this point now numbering in the hundreds if not thousands from being unchallenged as predators, to seek out expansions and inevitably clash with human settlements.

These attacks were known as 'Beast Waves' and the few that were recorded in the clan histories spoke of bloody conflicts being common while fear gripped the hearts of all. It was not uncommon for small or even mid-sized villages and clans to go missing overnight, destroyed as a Beast Wave swept over. Even this however was not the largest concern from a Beast Wave as once communities of spirit beasts reached this size they started birthing Beast Kings.

So-called 'Beast Kings' were more like subspecies of the spirit beasts than normal members of their races and were exceptionally more powerful than their kin. While a normal spirit beast cultivated strength through age Beast Kings were normally 10 to 100 times stronger than a spirit beast of the same age who wasn't a Beast King. These variants start to be born from members of spirit beast communities after their population grows so large and become natural leaders that act as fierce generals who the lesser spirit beasts are inclined to obey by their nature.

Worst yet Beast King's grew stronger as the community got larger. According to the records they were broken into Hundred Beast King, for communities with 100 or more creatures. These were usually two to three times as strong as a normal beast.

Next came the Thousand Beast Kings that were birthed in communities of 1,000 or more spirit beasts. At this level, Beast Kings were around 10 times more powerful than their kin. Finally came the Myriad Beast Kings who were only born in communities of 10,000 or more spirit beasts! Within these large swarms of creatures, these Beast Kings boasted 100x the strength of their kin.

It was said that in the legends there existed a higher level of Beast Kings known as Beast Emperors whose strength decimated entire regions and were thousands of times stronger than the normal members of their race. However, the records did not indicate how large a community would have to be to birth a beast emperor.

All of this was not even considering the power spirit beasts gained with age. It was said that if a spirit beast had been at its mature strength for 100 years they would have accumulated enough strength to be twice as strong as normal adults of the same species. At 1,000 years they would again undergo another change becoming 10 times the strength of that. Rumor had it that 10,000-year-old spirit beasts would be 100 times stronger than even 1,000-year-old beasts and could even take human form.

Considering this Fan Zhong could not even comprehend how strong older Beast kings were. It was no wonder all of the larger clans in the valley organized punitive forces whenever they heard of a gathering community of spirit beasts. This however did not include small packs of them and as far as he knew the water wolves generally tended to hunt in such small packs. They had become naturally predisposed to avoid large gatherings over centuries of purges from the valley clans. Truly the heavens must have been watching out for him since the water wolf had been alone.

A single mature water wolf had almost taken his life, if the whole pack was present he would have certainly perished. Although would his trial observers allow him to die? This was supposedly a clan trial so surely someone would be watching him. However, he had not seen anyone coming to save him from the wolf and he felt getting into a mindset that relied on such a rescue was not a likely way to survive this trial. In the worst case, he would be exiled from the clan for such behavior. In the best case, he would most likely have to repeat the trial after more training.

Thinking of such things made him sigh deeply and after another moment's thought, he slowly removed the dried meat from his pack, biting into a piece of it. As he prepared to continue his meal Fan Zhong heard a low growl coming from the west and raised his eyes to see the water wolf glowering at him. Putting away the meat he composed himself and raised his staff into the void gate stance.

At this point, he was tired of running, tired and in pain. This would end one way or another and he was resolute in ending this encounter victorious. While crawling back to camp he had realized how hard it was to put theory into full motion when death faced you.

If that exchange with the wolf had happened in a training yard he easily would have acted and followed up with a counter yet in a real fight his thoughts had frozen making the decision-making process delayed. Through experience, he now understood how hard actively choosing to fight and think was when the adrenaline was screaming through his body.

Steeling himself, Fan Zhong leveled his gaze at the wolf; his thoughts had taken mere moments and the staff in his hands had just come into stance as their gazes met. To his surprise, Fan Zhong heard a low whimper behind the wolf's growl and quickly the wolf slumped to the ground. Now that the wolf had fully let down its water Qi cloak he was able to see the lacerations and wounds all over its body.

The wolf had not been at full strength when they had fought and approaching he noticed a small wolf cub that had been hiding behind the beast. Fiercely the cub barked at him, standing resolute in the path between him what he now presumed was its mother. Quickly pushing past the cub he placed a hand behind its neck and held it at arm's length as tiny claws and teeth scratched at his skin only making small marks.

Examining the adult wolf he was able to tell it was truly dead, having used the last of its energy to find him here. Looking at the ribs the wolf had obviously been starved and was most likely chasing him as a last-ditch effort to feed itself and the cub. As his gaze fell to the small wolf still struggling in his grasp Fan Zhong felt a stabbing sense of guilt and pity.

This beast was just a child and had never had the chance to do anything in life. Did it not deserve a chance to prove its worth, just like he had? With this thought, Fan Zhong dragged the struggling cub with him to his pack and set it down in front of him while taking out one of the dried strips of meat. Cautiously he laid the meat down on top of its packing paper in front of the small wolf and gestured for it to eat.

At first, the water wolf cub bared its teeth at him while turning so transparent it was all but invisible save for an open mouth of sharp stubby teeth. After a few minutes of Fan Zhong motionlessly staring at it, the small creature seemed to lose its sense of animosity. Quickly it fell onto the meat with a voracious hunger obviously having not eaten in a while. While the cub ate Fan Zhong used his staff to dig out a small hole in the ground and carefully moved the mother water wolf's corpse into the shallow grave. Atop the earth of the grave, he used his staff to write the character for 'loyalty' the best he could into the dirt, channeling all his calligraphy skills into it.

If he had to be honest it was not his best work however he lacked the proper tools to help with the job. By the time he was finished the small cub had climbed into his pack and dug into the rest of his meat, thoroughly exhausting all of his rations. At this point, he was too tired to be angry and simply laughed sitting down next to the pack.

To his surprise the cub climbed out of the pack and curled up in his lap, nuzzling his stomach as it yawned and was quickly asleep. Examining the small animal Fan Zhong felt that the pure white of the wolf's coat was truly beautiful, it was a shame the water wolf kept its Qi cloak on all the time hiding such a magnificent color.

"Hmph, you show promise little brother. I shall name you 'Little White' after that magnificence you hold inside, hidden from others. You have big shoes to fill, rest easy. Tomorrow we have much to do." Fan Zhong spoke softly while gently patting Promise's head.

Like this, the first day of Fan Zhong's warrior trial ended. In his hands, as he slept something appeared that would have astonished him. Atop the head of Little White sat a misty almost transparent crown…
 
Part 1. Ch. 10 Life in the wild
The next morning Fan Zhong awoke to a slightly gray overcast of clouds peeking out beyond the canopy of the forest. With a small sigh of exhaustion, he struggled to rise to his feet, every tiny movement accenting the pain all over his body. He knew that soon, a source of food and water would need to be found otherwise the situation would only get worse.

While he stretched and felt out his body Fan Zhong's thoughts wandered to the note that had been left in his pack. Although he had assumed it referred to five months in the wilderness, perhaps he had misinterpreted this. In all actuality, it could just as easily mean five days or five weeks.

With this in mind, he tried to think back to any amount of time that his elder brother might have disappeared for such a trial. It wasn't that Fan Cheng had never been gone for such a length of time it was the opposite. Most of the time his elder brother and father were away at another village doing a mission or with the clan warriors taking care of some other business.

Suddenly it struck him how much of an anomaly it had been for Fan Cheng to take so much time to personally train him. For him to spend so much time on this endeavor showed how much he cared for his younger brother and the thought brought with it feelings of warmth in Fan Zhong's heart. This quickly faded as he understood that his elder brother could have taken this trial during any number of times he had been awhile from Little Green Bamboo Village.

Although the trial may truly refer to five days or maybe even five weeks of survival, Fan Zhong felt it prudent to plan as if his original estimate had been correct. Five years simply would have been too long and five weeks would hardly have been a true display of the survival skills his training had taught him. That settled he focused his mind to finish stretching out his body.

Finally feeling good enough to set out, Fan Zhong first looked around him to take stock and locate little white. After a short while of looking and pacing around, he was unable to locate the small water wolf, this brought him a feeling of sadness. He had hoped that sharing a meal on death's door would endear the small cub to him and felt that the company would lessen his feelings of loneliness for the days to come.

Now it seemed that his would-be companion had set out without him, in this case, he could only hope that Little White was safe and that their paths would cross once more. Struggling with the effort, Fan Zhong shouldered his pack and began trekking westward once more. His first objective for the day was to relocate his supplies nearer to the stream he had located the previous day.

Remembering how useful the cliff face had been, Fan Zhong decided to make his camp atop the cliff. Ultimately he decided on a location at the intersection of the stream and cliff edge where the water fell off and turned into the waterfall that fed the pond below. That done next he decided to hang his rope down the cliff, cutting some shorter bamboo shoots and sticking them into the ground to create a post to anchor the hanging rope.

The rope served two purposes for his camp, firstly it would allow him easy access up and down the terrain. Secondly, easier movement between the pond and clifftop would allow him to make an emergency escape far quicker and safer than simply jumping off. He had wondered if the pond was deep enough to simply allow him to jump into it but dismissed the idea, reasoning that the rope was a far more practical and safe method to allow him to escape.

With this taken care next came preparations to solve the problem of water. Although Fan Zhong had often drunk from mountain streams and the Flowing Grass River itself he knew from training that this could lead to sickness. Knowing his current circumstances, anything else that harmed him could be a death sentence. Firmly set in the idea that an early grave would not be an impressive result for this trial, Fan Zhong set about building a small fire pit and tripod to hang his small pot.

During his training, he had learned a method to set a piece of cloth or large leaf above boiling water while tilting one end of the covering to one side over another container. In this way, the water would steam away and collect on the underside of the covering eventually condensing and dripping as clean water into the second container. For the second container, he decided to use the rice bowl as it was the largest thing on hand.

As he finally got the small pot in place with a sufficient cover Fan Zhong slumped to the floor as he tried to place the rice bowl under the hanging side of his water cleaning setup. Weariness felt baked into his bones at this point and he hardly remembered feeling so tired even during the harshest training that Fan Cheng had put him through. Suddenly his thoughts went back to the moment he had killed the black-robed assailant and his sparring sessions with his elder brother.

Truly his enlightenment must have been heaven-defying, he thought to himself. Otherwise, how could he, someone who had barely trained a day in his life, defeat such a foe? Indeed he now felt much regret at his lazy ways, throughout the years others had spent huge swaths of time dedicated to growing stronger. Now here he was thinking that a mere year could make up for years of hard work and dedication.

How could it? Was it that he worked harder than others? Perhaps better or smarter? The truth was that everyone was always advancing and he had stood still for far too long. Even as he attempted to struggle against the current and once again see the shadow of his peers' back's they too were racing forward not content to stand still as he had.

Heavenly luck was truly frightening in this regard as it had briefly allowed him to bridge this distance but now reality had struck him hard in the face. For once in his life, Fan Zhong wished his elder brother was more willing to play the part of the cruel taskmaster and pummel him during their sparring sessions. Remembering the time Fan Cheng had, resulting in his face meeting the ground at an unpleasant speed, his body groaned again in pain.

At any rate, he was certain that any of the Third-grade martial artists that had chased him and Wang Qiang that day would have easily dealt with the water wolf he had encountered. Once again despair threatened to overtake him however Fan Zhong was used to this. Steadying his mind he emptied it as if to enter the void gate stance.

Soon his wits returned to him and he was able to place the rice bowl and light the fire before laying his back against the tall and sturdy bamboo shoot nearest to his fire. Here he let his calm state expand allowing his entire world to be taken up by his breathing and nothing else. The next thing he knew blackness had overtaken his vision and he was fast asleep.

When he awoke Fan Zhong could still feel the fading rays of the sun beaming down upon him and he heard a low noise. Suddenly a sharp pain ran up his leg and he recoiled, opening his eyes instantly. There at his feet sat Little white and with him were two small rabbit corpses. The small wolf seemed to have pressed up against him in an attempt to awaken him from the deep sleep that had come, in the end, it seemed Little white was impatient and took to biting his leg to do the job. Unpleasant though it was he was grateful for the wake-up call, lapses like this could prove fatal if a predator had found him instead.

Although his body felt incredibly heavy and he could barely move his arms, Fan Zhong still mustered the energy to reach down and pat the cub's head. Little White paid little attention to him, instead, the little wolf was focusing on tearing into one of the rabbits while the other lay closer to Fan Zhong's feet. Grateful to his small companion for the gift he moved as swift as possible firstly taking the water that had now condensed in his rice bowl and drinking it down.

Although the water was not cool it did refresh him a surprising amount. Previously he had not noticed how dry his throat and mouth had gotten but now that he had some water to rinse them and drink it reinvigorated Fan Zhong. With energy allowed he set to the task of skinning and draining the blood from the rabbit with renewed zeal.

It took only a few minutes to remove most of the meat from the rabbit, a grim task but one he finished with determination. Deliberating on the best methods to eat the meal quickly, Fan Zhong decided that making a stew would be best. With the water so close at hand it would use the available resources well and with his body so deprecated from liquid the broth formed would help him restore himself as well.

As an added benefit the cooking of the stew would boil it, in any case, allowing him to skip the step of purifying the water. Having set his mind he briefly attempted to rummage in the nearby foliage for some wild herbs and vegetables to add to his stew. After using up most of his remaining energy he came back with the sparse findings of a few wild onions with some tough root vegetables.

His most fortuitous find had been a naturally growing herb that added a minty taste, at least from what he remembered. Fan Zhong had attempted to study with the clan cooks at odd intervals but had never devoted enough time to be adept in the practice, because of this he was desperately hoping his memory did not fail him. With the sun starting to dip in the horizon and little energy left to do anything else Fan Zhong set the stew to boil and hunkered down next to his small fire. Little White seemed to have tired himself out and was laying next to the spot he had been sitting when he awoke.

Once he was able to determine the stew would not boil over Fan Zhong decided he needed to prepare his shelter for the night. For this he would make a simple lean-to with his waterproof cloth, rummaging about thankfully he was quickly able to find a shorter bamboo shoot that was the perfect size. After cutting the shorter shoot off at the base the construction simply consisted of leaning one end against the taller shoot and pushing the other end into the ground.

What he was left with was a right triangle formation where the shoot he had cut and the ground forming the longer parts and the standing taller shoot formed the straight back. Next, he carefully draped the waterproof cloth over the top of the cut piece of bamboo so that it hung over either side evenly. Finally happy that this would prove adequate, if hopefully temporary, shelter Fan Zhong brought his pack over and positioned it to rest at the corner of the ground and standing shoot to serve as a pillow.

Finished setting up the lean-to he returned to the fire and sat down next to Little white, slowly petting the small wolf as he watched the fire. Soon enough the stew was ready and although it wasn't the high fare he was used to, Fan Zhong had to admit that eating something made by his own hands had a satisfying feeling of its own.

Looking down at his small companion he considered how fortunate he had been once again. When Little White had arrived and brought him the rabbits he was fairly certain that he would go hungry once again today. Although he had managed to purify some water by himself the energy needed to hunt prey was immense and managing that on his own might have been beyond his capabilities given his exhausted state.

This wasn't even mentioning the dangers presented by hunting while so weakened. Not even mentioning predators at that moment even some of the larger prey such as deer might have left him injured and helpless if they fought back. It seemed these days that heaven was smiling on him.

Thinking of this he was fairly surprised that Little White had been able to hunt by himself. The last time he had seen the small wolf it had looked as starved and deprived as its mother. Yet now all of that was gone, replaced by a healthy-looking cub that had even taken down two rabbits that were only slightly smaller than it!

Just the feat of carrying two pieces of prey, who when considered together were bigger than Little white himself, must have taken a lot out of the little guy. Although he supposed that being a spirit beast the small water wolf was stronger than any other animal the same size on account of the natural energy strengthening its body. Warmth flowed through Fan Zhong's heart at the thought of his little brother's generosity, apparently Little White had never had thoughts to abandon him after all.

While his mind was on the matter he decided to inspect his companion slightly more thoroughly. Picking the cub up he inspected the fate the heavens had thrust upon Little White and met his small companion's… companion. Having figured this out he supposed the title of little brother suited the wolf just fine.

Offended at having been picked up, Little White clawed at him causing Fan Zhong to drop him to the ground once more. There he lay curling back up next to Fan Zhong's legs seemingly content to sleep the rest of the day away. As night encroached onto them and the embers of the fire ebbed under his pot Fan Zhong felt at one with the forest.

Sounds of life winding down brought to him the feeling of someone sighing in contentment at a job well done. The world had survived another day, with it life would go on. No matter the fate of man or the will of the heavens, life would continue.

In the dying light of his fire Fan Zhong saw the beauty of the world coming to rest. Quiet winds blew through the leaves of the bamboo shoots causing them to slightly rustle as birds called about high in the canopy. Running water cascaded down the nearby waterfall creating a solid background to the melody of life.

Next, he closed his eyes, smelling the smoke of the fire mixing with the smell of fresh plant life mixed in. Under all of this water, vapors interspersed giving a sense of purity and refreshment. The Smells of the forest were accents to the melody of sounds but also a melody of their own.

He felt that one was not complete without the other, half of a picture both of them but also containing parts of each other. Absent-mindedly he started humming a soft and low song. Soon this turned into a more complex song, one that told of dawns and closing, of resting and endings. Following this his hands and feet moved of their own accord, sounding out the measure of the tones with strikes to the bamboo and ground.

Within, Fan Zhong felt the familiar feeling of resonance cascade through him, and before he knew it the world around him was almost pitch black, just the barest hint of moonlight peeking through the canopy. Knowing it was time for rest he took Little White in his arms, who was now too tired to protest, carrying him into the lean-to letting the small wolf rest on his chest as he lay down to sleep. Like this, the Second day of Fan Zhong's trial passed without incident.

In the morning he once again awoke to the sight of Little White missing. Smiling to himself he decided to go about the day, surely his little brother could take of himself. With these thoughts put aside, Fan Zhong decided to begin making his base camp here more liveable.

The first order of business he addressed was stoking the fire and getting more water to boil and purify. After taking the time to do this he once again walked as far as he could while still seeing the bamboo shoot his pack rested on. Once he reached this point he would find the tallest shoot nearby and mark it with the symbol for the direction he had walked from the camp.

This proved an easy feat for all but the westward direction. To make a mark in this direction he would need to cross the stream. Coming to this obstacle Fan Zhong considered his options. He could wade through the stream as it seemed shallow enough at points. However, this option was something he was less inclined to do.

His reason for this was simple: wading would soak his clothes through. If the pack had contained a spare set of clothes this would not be a problem however getting his clothes wet now could be a significant drawback. Wet clothes amplified cold nights and would weigh him down causing his energy to be used faster.

Also, Fan Zhong had to admit, wet clothes were miserable to wear. Having decided that wading through the stream was not an option he scouted to the south of his camp following along the banks. Doing this he hoped he would find an exceedingly shallow area to cross, perhaps one with rocks that had formed a sort of natural land bridge.

After scouting this way for what felt like an hour there was no sign of such an easy crossing point and he gave up entirely supposing that the stream itself would serve to tell what direction his camp lay. On his way back, however, he decided to spend more time foraging for edible vegetables and plants. This time his efforts were rewarded with large bundles of wild onions and mushrooms. Among what he found was even some more of the mint-flavored herb and some leafy plants that Fan Cheng had mentioned were edible.

Confident that he could now at least make a vegetable stew as food, Fan Zhong decided that he should attempt to hunt something. The meat he had eaten was full of energy and although Little White had brought him the rabbit for a growing man like him this was truly a small amount of food. He needed to hunt something larger and gather more food if he was to continue surviving here.

With this Fan Zhong set about attempting to stalk through the underbrush. One could not say he was a master assassin however he believed that he was no lumbering oaf. The forest however seemed to have a different idea and the few times he was able to see a deer in the distance the animal noticed him instantly and bolted away in fright.

By sheer dumb luck, he managed to stumble upon a rabbit that had walked next to him while he was standing still and contemplating how to approach more stealthily. Although quick, the rabbit was not able to escape the blow of his staff and he quickly dispatched it with a strike to the head.

Combat may have frozen Fan Zhong's reflexes however when not faced with danger he had to admit that his training had truly produced results. Had he tried to react to that rabbit a year ago it would have been out of range before his staff could be brought to bear. Now however his mental exercises had trained him to notice small movements and he had been able to see it the moment it twitched in the grass at his feet, able to strike immediately.

With this Fan Zhong felt it was much easier to catch small game than expend large amounts of energy hunting large prey like deer. Thinking upon this inspiration struck, during training Fan Cheng had taught him how to make snares for small animals from strips of bamboo and plants. Combining this with some newly acquired vegetables couldn't he bait the snares causing the success rate to go up?

Quickly he set to work making five small snares and separated his vegetables into small bundles that he placed on top of large leaves of the greens he had found. With this Fan Zhong also portioned a set to save for later snares alongside deciding a better use for the mint herb. Being able to drink boiled water would save him the trouble of purifying it and he figured that he could use the herbs to make a sort of mint tea-like drink.

This way he could make larger amounts of drinkable liquid without waiting large amounts of time to use his pot while the steam condensed. Excitement flooded into his mind as he set about setting up the snares and returned to camp. Here he set water to boil with some of the herbs while skinning and cleaning the rabbit. That evening Fan Zhong ate roasted rabbit and drank his attempted mint tea. Although the drink came out bitter and without much flavor it was edible and his body was feeling considerably better now that it had liquids inside of it.

After this he checked the snares, being careful to stalk through the underbrush in case any of the game caught in his traps had attracted more dangerous predators. To his surprise, this had not happened and he had even caught two more rabbits, although two more of his snares had been set off with their bait taken and no animals in sight. Even with this Fan Zhong was elated, now he had a stable influx of food that presented little danger to him and would be easy to replicate.

With this, he set about resetting and baiting the snares while making minor adjustments to positioning based on what he guessed had gone wrong with the two failed cases. By the time he returned to camp Little White was there looking mildly irritated, or as close as a wolf face could be too irritated, and with no prey of his own. Smiling Fan Zhong set one of the rabbits by his little brother and set to work on the other intent on roasting it.

While skinning and cleaning the rabbit Fan Zhong felt at ease, truly he felt that living this way may not be so bad after all.
 
I wonder if his watchers have been helping him with that rabbit. If Little White could catch 2 rabbits just like that, then surely it's mom wouldn't have starved to death.
 
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Part 1. Ch 11. The home stretch
Rising to greet the sun the next morning Fan Zhong immediately went to check his snares. After looking over all of them he found that only a single snare had been successful over the night. Still, he was overjoyed at this as the simple construction had saved him so much time and energy even a single passive success over the night was worth it.

With the light of dawn barely peeking through the canopy he set about searching for more vegetables to bait the snares. Over two hours he finally foraged enough to do the job and decided to set the snares in a new area lest his prey becomes wise to him. Deciding this he thought that maybe going northeast up the steep incline that descended from the other wall of the shallow ravine would be suitable.

By setting the snares there he could scout a new area while spreading his traps. Tucking the snares and bait bundles under his arm Fan Zhong began the descent down the hanging rope to the ravine floor. Once here he took in the sight of the bubbling pond and the greenery that grew on the water's edge.

He knew from his lessons that Flow Grass grew upon the banks of the Flowing Grass River and decided to check the foliage for similar natural treasures. After all this stream was one of the mountain sources that eventually fed into the river, perhaps it was also rich in natural Qi. If he could find even a few natural treasures it would be precious as this was a wild environment that was rarely touched by civilized hands.

In places like this natural treasures were allowed to grow undisturbed for hundreds and even sometimes thousands of years. A single thousand-year-old piece of Flow Grass would be an invaluable treasure that he could give to the clan and possibly receive some rewards and honor. Spurred on by the thought he spent longer than originally intended searching through the foliage.

He had seen Flow Grass a few times throughout his life and knew that it usually took the form of tall grass with subtle streaks of almost transparent blue that could be seen in the sun. During his training Fan Cheng had told him that once he reached the master level and could generate Qi of his own he would be able to send it out to resonate with Qi in the environment which could allow him to locate natural treasures.

The Clan observers could do better than this. With mental energy alone observers could use special mental energy techniques to detect Qi and even determine its density and its strength. However, this took many years of specialized training and attuning yourself to mental energy natural treasures, not something Fan Zhong had time to do at the present.

This left him with only the most tedious method of looking for his query, testing durability. Natural treasures were imbued with the Qi of heaven and earth, as such they were far more durable than normal plants. Knowing this one could attempt to tear a few of the plants at the edge, if the plant was damaged like normal it was not a treasure.

However, if the grass proved unnaturally durable then it was most likely to be some sort of natural treasure. Disgruntled at his lack of success, a slightly more muddy and dirty Fan Zhong rose from the banks of the pond. Unfortunately, he only found a few more herbs for his tea in the process. Convinced that he had already used up enough of the daylight on this search he mentally placed the idea of finding Flow Grass to the back of his mind and started heading north.

At first, the slope to his right was far too steep to walk up comfortably. Knowing this side of the ravine was leveling off in the horizon anyways Fan Zhong followed the edge of the slope northward in hopes that it would become shallow enough to walk up at some point. Around 10 minutes later the slope had leveled off to a steep but manageable hill that he felt was reasonably scalable.

Walking up the slope he began to see more and more bamboo as the forest resumed itself atop the incline as it leveled off. The slope itself was mostly clear aside from low grasses and bushes however Fan Zhong had almost slipped a few times as the foliage covering the ground obscured uneven footing. Once up the hill, it was time to search for snare locations.

The First snare he placed was located in the narrow entrance to a clearing between a set of five bamboos that seemed to part in the middle. Although he could force his way in between them the space between the bamboo was not easy to navigate and there were other larger entrances to the clearing for larger animals and people like himself. Reasoning this he figured smaller game, such as the rabbits he was hunting, would stick to these small openings to avoid larger predators.

Snares themselves weren't smart so he wanted to avoid a deer or something similarly large triggering the trap. With this done Fan Zhong entered the clearing to look around. It seemed the clearing had formed around a small hill that rose from the earth and extended only a few meters around the edges of the hill.

Atop the small slope sat a few taller bushes that had dark red flowers blooming on their tops. Coming closer to the bushes he could see that the bushes had sharp thorns under the long leaves that rested under the flowers and using a stick to push some of the branches aside he could see underneath. At the edges of the ground under these bushes sat small bones and the smell of blood and death rose faintly in the air, seeming to play out an echo of the struggling life that had ended inside those thorns.

Small red vines arose around the inner branches of the bushes seeming to pulse with some sort of liquid. Once Fan Zhong let the bush return to its natural state however he could only smell the pleasant smell of the flowers. The scent filled his mind and made his thoughts feel light and pleasant as if he had eaten the sweetest most delicious fruit that had ever existed. one that had after taste other than a lingering longing begging him to eat more rising from his stomach.

On his tongue, an echo of that taste lingered beckoning on him to follow it home, to give himself in to the siren song of deliciousness and forget worldly concerns. By the time he realized what was going on Fan Zhong had already taken two steps towards the bush and one of his hands was reaching into the branches, a sharp thorn piercing his skin just enough to draw blood. In haste he instantly took 5 steps, channeling the momentum of each into the next as he bounded out of the clearing.

Upon looking back, the clearing remained tranquil, as if untouched by his passage. Inwardly he was panicking, deeply concerned about the thorns containing some sort of poison. With this concern filling his thoughts Fan Zhong hurriedly found a sturdy cluster of bamboo shoots and sat at their base, leaning his back against the tall plants.

As he sat his vision seemed to swim and adrenaline raced through his veins. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion as the wind whispered on his skin while each minute movement of an insect or leaf touching him felt like a thunderclap. In his ears the sound of his heart beating was like the march of a heavenly army, hammering home a constant booming sound that seemed to impend his doom.

Slowly, and with much effort, Fan Zhong calmed himself, slipping into the meditative emptiness of the void gate stance. Soon he realized that the world had stopped spinning and his senses were returning to normal. As the adrenaline that ran through his body calmed to normal levels he was able to hear and feel normally no longer overwhelmed by the sensations of the world.

Finally after meditating for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, he understood what had happened. The initial effect of the plant was merely to draw in prey and make them ignore the pain and the world around him, however, it had no poison. In his haste in thinking about possible poisons he had driven himself into a frenzy and started to overreact to the situation.

Combine this with the natural adrenaline his body produced from being injured and it had thrown his senses all out of sorts. Now that he was confident that no poison was on the thorns Fan Zhong once again cautiously crept into the clearing. Knowing better from the previous experience he covered his nose this time.

Staring at the crimson red flowers once more he truly marveled at their beauty. Although the plant seemed deadly it was a natural work of art. In training Fan Cheng had described to him many varieties of plants to be wary of but this bush did not fit the description of any of those. This too brought a sense of wonder from deep inside him, truly the vastness of heaven and earth was unfathomable.

Even here within the Flowing Grass Valley where his clan had lived for centuries, there were still mysteries to discover and secrets to learn. If such a small place could still have more secrets after so long was it even possible to truly understand something fully. With the variations that heaven wrought upon the world countless paths existed bringing about strange, wonderful, and of course dangerous existences.

Perhaps this is what it meant to be a true scholar, to understand that fundamentally one was always a student in the face of the Grand Dao. From the loftiest immortals to the lowest peasant, in the face of the entirety of existence were they even different? Counting raindrops in a storm one drop was the same as a thousand to the storm as a whole, were mortals and immortals the same in the grand scheme of things?

This gave Fan Zhong much to contemplate, in his view of the world important people like his father and Duchess Lu Yi ruled the entire world. The valley itself is around 150 kilometers wide and 700km long, although those estimates varied based on how much of the mountains that bordered it were counted, to Fan Zhong this was already an inconceivable amount of land. However, he had recently found out that the Twisted territories, the collective name for all of the surrounding land, was a 'lesser region' covering a staggering 153,692,352 km2.

Even conceiving this was beyond his mind and as such Fan, Zhong had mentally sorted such thoughts into things that were too far away and unknowable. Now thinking about it however he was considering that even immortals, who surely controlled empires dwarfing the twisted territories, were still as small as grains of sand compared to the whole of the Grand Dao. In the face of all of existence both him and those vaunted immortals were both so small that the differences of them relative to each other were inconsequential, to the totality of all things they each did not even qualify as a speck.

At once this thought threatened to swallow him like a yawning abyss of nothingness. Nothing, no matter what he did, mattered. Heavenly wars and immortal thrones meant nothing to that unending unfeeling infinity, the Grand Dao itself was beyond all concepts of anything his small existence could do to affect it. If this was true, then who was truly an important person? What did it take for an existence to matter in the grand scheme of eternity? Suddenly Fan Zhong's world seemed so small that it would disappear with the merest thought.

With a jolt, he pulled himself from these thoughts. If the duchess and lesser regions were something that was too far away then truly this line of reasoning was so far removed from his level that it bore no more thinking. That was surely the case, it had nothing to do with the roiling ball of dread that swam in his stomach at the thought, truly nothing to do with that.

Firmly trying to take his mind away from such things Fan Zhong busied himself to set the rest of his snares. One he set next to another small hill that showed signs of small animal dwellings close by. The next one went next to a low-meter-long crevice in the ground that sloped towards the pond he had come from, the crevice was narrow and short but this was a boon as only small animals could move through it.

In all, it took Fan Zhong a few hours to finish laying down the remaining snares which ended up in scattered places with little thought put into placement other than making sure they were not too close together. Satisfied that he had done as much as he could for the snares' success, Fan Zhong turned and started the trek back to camp. Along the way, he forage for replacements for snare bait and tried to keep an eye out for possible predators.

Back at camp, he found Little White had been waiting for him. Seeming eager for something the small cub walked up to him and nudged his leg before setting off southward. With nothing better to do Fan Zhong followed along wanting to see what his little brother was so eager about. The wind rushed through his hair and the refreshing scent of the stream was left behind as they ran southeast.

Along the way, they started going up an incline and Fan Zhong found that the terrain was becoming far more vertical and uneven as they went. Soon they were running along a slanting ramp that ran parallel to a high cliff wall that he could see the forest on top of. As they went up the ramp Fan Zhong had to use his Momentum of Shifting earth technique to keep up with Little White.

At this point, he was already struggling to control his speed and couldn't shift more momentum into his steps lest he lose control when suddenly he realized there was a dark shape approaching him ahead. Inwardly he cursed as he slammed face-first into a cluster of three tall and sturdy bamboo shoots. Previously it had been all he could do to keep up with Little White as the young cub constantly shifted between activating and deactivating its water Qi cloak blending into the surroundings for seconds at a time.

When he had run into the bamboo his attention had been pulled to the right side as he had lost sight of his companion in a carpet of knee-high bushes and before he knew it the momentum of his movement technique had slammed him full force into the looming obstacle. To his left he heard a soft bark and looked just in time to find Little White looking at him with an expression of complete innocence, quickly the cub walked up to him and nudged his shoulder with its head. After this didn't seem to work Fan Zhong's small companion took on a worried look and climbed onto his chest to lick at his face, clearly worried he was hurt severely.

Laughing Fan Zhong pushed himself up to sit with his arms splayed out behind him as support.

"Perhaps a bit slower little brother, forgive my slowness" Fan Zhong beamed cheerily as he spoke to the small wolf while petting its head.

Thinking back on the exercise it had been exhilarating to push his movement technique so far and at the end there he felt his speed had reached farther than it ever had before. Perhaps playing with Little White in this way could serve as good training, in any case, it could at least give him something to do. Once he had rested and felt able to move again Fan Zhong started to rise to his feet while observing the area around him.

They had come to the top of the sloping ramp-like terrain and the edge that ran along to his right eventually formed the cliff face as the terrain sloped down back the way he and Little White had come. In the distance Fan Zhong could just make out the misty form of an enormous mountain rising into the heavens. Upon seeing this he sharply inhaled in awe.

Growing up he had heard stories about how large the mountains bordering the valley were; however, seeing it in person was another matter altogether. What he could see looked to be the sturdy middle slopes of the mountain while the rest of the higher slopes, as well as the peak, rose into the cloud obscuring them from vision. Many in the valley considered the Green Mists Mountain, as well as the Yellow Dragon mountain that made up the northern border of the valley, to be incredibly strange.

For one thing, they were incredibly large singular mountains. One had to know that usually, mountains came in ranges, with many lesser and greater peaks. However, these two defied that logic being incredibly large singular existences that seemed to connect heaven and earth by themselves. Their size was another contention as only the base of each mountain where they faced inward towards the river were considered parts of the valley proper.

This left enormous parts of the mountain, as well as anyone who lived above the base on the slopes above, and the outward-facing parts to still be considered as separate areas. In his youth Fan Zhong had always fantasized that some type of immortal musician had risen the mountains from the ground in honor of some sort of enlightenment he received. His childish mind had dreamed of such a powerful figure descending from the heavens to take him as an apprentice and give him techniques that wildly outclassed anything that existed in the valley, just like the stories of legend.

Thinking back on this made Fan Zhong smile, he may not have been apprenticed to some super powerful immortal but he felt that his path was forming. All he had to do was continue walking that path and see where it took him. With his thoughts returning to him, Fans Zhong noticed that their surroundings were all too silent.

Surveying the surroundings he saw that there was another gentle upward incline that stretched into the distance before meeting another rising cliff face. At the bottom of that cliff face, a cave opening loomed with pitch darkness like the maw of a demon from the void threatening to swallow the world whole. In front of the cave was a bare clearing, even the normally grassy underbrush stripped clean as only barren earth stretched for a good 20m in a circle around the opening to the cave.

All around the path leading up to this opening Fan Zhong could feel the air writhe as if struggling victims' souls still writhed in death creating an atmosphere that threatened to suffocate him even at this distance. Closer to the entrance he saw white shards gleaming, half-buried in the ground. If Fan Zhong had to guess he was thinking that these were bones of previous victims and not all of them looked small.

Whatever lived there was some sort of local predator and he wanted nothing to do with it. When Little White glanced in the same direction he growled, seeming to have agreed and they both sprinted back the way they had come. As he and Little White made their way back to camp Fan Zhong kept glancing over his shoulder expecting any moment for a horrific beast to come charging at them.

On the way back he made sure to temper the pace they were taking and made great pains to move stealthily through the underbrush. In this regard Little White was much more successful than him, turning into a ghost that glided in and out of sight with only the barest movement of foliage to herald the cub's larger movements. Finally reaching camp Fan Zhong felt a huge relief wash across him as they had suffered no attacks.

Reflecting, he realized the sun had moved a considerable margin since they had set out and he realized the cave was fairly far away from his camp, perhaps an hour or more with a light jog. As long as they stayed clear of moving southward he felt the current campsite should be more than safe from incursions by that particular predator. That decided he led Little White on a trek eastward to continue their running and play. After this they checked the snares he had left in the north, the traps resulted in four catches bringing them a feast.

That night Fan Zhong made more herb tea and finished eating his roasted catches in much the same way he had the previous, a content smile spread across his face. In this way, they continued existing just him and Little White. During the rest of the week, Fan Zhong took his little companion on more and more adventures exploring northward and east while practicing movement techniques.

After this, they settled into a routine of hunting and playing to while away the days. During the first month, Fan Zhong mainly focused on getting Little White more familiar with him and mentally mapping out the area. Once the cub was used to him so much that they spent nearly all their time together he started practicing hunting with him. It took many attempts but by watching how his little companion moved Fan Zhong was able to get much better at stalking and moving through the forest unseen.

Once the second month had passed he finally managed to sneak close enough to a deer that he could strike it with his staff. He had been awed at being so close to the animal in its natural environment and botched the strike, hitting its leg instead and the deer scampered off. A week later he got another chance and that night Fan Zhong and Little White feasted like kings.

By the end of the third month, Fan Zhong had fashioned his lean-to into a more permanent and sturdy structure with a square bamboo frame that had his waterproof cloth stretched to make the roof, functional sheets of thin bamboo made into makeshift doors. With the same technique, he used to make the doors; he had also managed to make bamboo sheets to cover the floor of the tiny structure. He put these on top of beds of dried tall grass to make sure they had some give and as a spacer to protect the sheets from water that soaked into the ground when it rained.

Going into the fourth month of his trial Fan Zhong was feeling comfortable with his living routine. Although not the life of luxury he normally lived there was a charm to what he was doing. At this point, his largest obstacle was finding things to fill the time and he decided on simply resuming his normal training routine.

Running in the morning, followed by stance and technique drills. Then using the afternoons for quiet reflection and meditation. After living the last year with the routine nonstop returning to it was quite comfortable for him. Everything was going great and by the weekend of his last week of trial Fan Zhong felt that his actions had truly lived up to his training.

He was returning from the snares that afternoon, unfortunately without any catches, and suddenly could not find little white. That morning the small wolf had stayed in the camp as it seemed he wasn't feeling well. Fan Zhong had figured this was on account of not having eaten much in the past few days as their snares had been drying up. At the time he figured this was not an issue as his trial was coming to an end in two days and had set out under the rolling gray forecast of the sky to check the snares.

Now a feeling of dread arose in his heart as he searched, unable to find his small companion. Finally, he was able to locate a trail that headed southward. The dread boiling in his stomach hit Fan Zhong as hard as any blow as it felt like his insides dropped out from under him.

Quickly he sprinted south following the trail as best he could while looking for any sign of Little White. It was as he approached the bottom of the wide ramp that headed for that dread cave when he found the trail again. Strewn along it was a tiny trail of blood leading up the ramp.

In that instant, the world blurred as Fan Zhong ran up the incline faster than his body had ever moved. As he sprinted under the looming gray skies Fan Zhong heard thunder rumble heralding a storm, he could only hope that he wasn't too late.
 
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