Chapter 26: 20-25
Chapter 20: Standard Alchemy and Meridian Opening
Xiulan circled the stone table in her back courtyard, inspecting the delivered ingredients. Sunlight filtered through the garden's cherry trees as the scents of the herbs mingled with fresh morning air.
Pure spring water splashed against bronze tools as she methodically cleaned each instrument. The mortar and pestle required extra attention—any contamination would ruin the entire batch.
She arranged the components in precise order: Dawn Serpent scales glittered like captured starlight, Thunder Root pulsed with latent energy, and Blood Lotus petals released a metallic sweetness.
The spirit stones were set to the side.
The stone cauldron sat heavy and cold. She stacked kindling beneath it.
She had done this so many times in the game manually that it felt like second nature. This was just… a more hands on approach.
She struck the flint, and eventually flames licked upward. It would take a while for the cauldron to come to the correct temperature.
Dawn Serpent scales clinked against the mortar. Each methodical grind produced iridescent powder that caught the light. She pressed harder, reducing the scales to fine dust. Her already aching arms burned from the effort, but she maintained the steady rhythm. A silk sieve separated any remaining chunks—only the finest powder would suffice.
The Thunder Root required precision cuts. Xiulan drew her knife across the gnarled surface, peeling away translucent sections thin enough to see through. Static electricity crackled between the slices as she laid them out to dry. Fifteen minutes exactly—she pulled out an hourglass and set it to counting.
While waiting, she separated Blood Lotus petals from their stems. Each crimson petal contained precious essence. Too much pressure would destroy their properties, too little would waste their potential. She pressed each one with calculated gentleness, releasing drops of blood-red liquid into a waiting bowl.
Xiulan lifted the two lesser spirit stones from their silk wrapping. The crystalline formations pulsed with stored energy against her palms. She placed them precisely in the cauldron's center, positioning them to maximize energy distribution.
The purified water splashed against the heated metal. Four cups—no more, no less. Steam rose in a burst she had to avoid, and then in delicate wisps.
She watched intently, monitoring the surface for the telltale signs. Come on, just like in the game manual. Tiny bubbles formed along the bottom, rising in a steady stream.
She divided the Dawn Serpent scale powder into three equal portions on separate squares of parchment. The first portion scattered across the water's surface in a shimmering cloud.
Eight clockwise stirs sent ripples of iridescent light through the mixture. The second portion followed, then eight more precise stirs. The final portion completed the sequence.
Xiulan adjusted the firewood beneath the cauldron, reducing the flames to a steady glow. The timer for the thunder root finished, and she quickly went to work grinding the slices in the mortar. She had little time to do this part.
Five minutes, tops. Thankfully, it only took her three.
The Thunder Root powder trickled through her fingers as she stirred counter-clockwise. Static crackled across the surface with each addition.
Time stretched as she maintained the precise temperature. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the constant heat and concentration.
The Blood Lotus petals dropped one by one into the swirling mixture. Each crimson petal dissolved in a small burst of red. The liquid shimmered with combined power as the minutes of simmering ticked by.
Wisps of vapor curled up from the cauldron's surface. Xiulan yanked away several burning logs, scattering them across the stone courtyard. The mixture bubbled less vigorously as the heat decreased.
Each stir sent ripples of color through the liquid—from iridescent gold to deep crimson. The spirit stones pulsed rhythmically at the cauldron's bottom, their energy merging with the swirling concoction. Xiulan counted each rotation, maintaining a steady pressure against the thickening mixture.
The color deepened with each passing of the ladle. Crimson darkened to blood-red, then stabilized into a rich garnet. Xiulan lifted the cauldron off its stand and set it on a cooling rack.
Steam rose in lazy spirals as she reset her hourglass. Ten minutes. Not a second more or less.
The morning breeze carried cherry blossoms across her workspace. One landed in the mixture—Xiulan plucked it out before it could contaminate the batch.
As the final grains of sand fell, Xiulan lifted the still-warm cauldron.
The mixture poured in a smooth stream into the waiting pill molds—each depression precisely measured to contain the correct dosage. The liquid settled into perfect orbs inside the mold. She pinched them shut tight and a little squirt of excess liquid shot out. A string bound them.
The molds began to turn color to mimic the liquid inside.
One hour until they solidify. Xiulan arranged her tools for cleaning while she waited. When she finished that, there was nothing left to do but fidget.
Xiulan paced the stone path, then checked the main residence. The morning air carried only bird songs and distant servant chatter—no sounds of approaching danger or schemes. Why does everything feel too quiet? She circled back to check the courtyard's entrance again. Empty.
A glance at the garden's sundial pushed her back to the workspace. The pills demanded attention, regardless of paranoid thoughts.
Golden light emanated from the cooling molds, drawing her closer. The rich metallic sheen confirmed what thousands of hours in Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles had taught her—perfect quality. Just like the countless times she'd crafted these for her characters.
She undid the binding and then bonked the molds. Two perfect orbs rolled out.
Xiulan scooped up both pills with practiced care. After rubbing them a little with a soft cloth to check for imperfections, she tucked one securely in an inner pocket. The remaining pill sat heavy in her palm, nearly as large as Jin Wei's standard medicines.
Unfortunately, there was no way to make this specific pill any smaller than she had.
Nervous energy buzzed through her limbs as she studied the golden surface. The creation process matched her gaming experience step by step.
She rolled the golden pill between her fingers. The cultivation process flashed through her mind—take the pill, open meridians, expel toxins. In Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles , those three steps launched characters into the first stage of body refinement.
It turned them from a forgettable and expendable NPC into a player directable character.
The pill's perfection offered her only reassurance. In the game, silver-grade pills killed characters regularly—most players shrugged off those deaths as minor setbacks. There were always more mortal recruits to pick from.
But golden pills guaranteed survival, even if the process turned horrific.
She could only hope that reality followed the same principle, because she really didn't have a very good idea of how the meridian opening would work. Something about dantian, meridians, and… ugh.
She wished her lie about having a secret benefactor was true.
A bead of sweat rolled down Xiulan's temple. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared at the pill.
No other option presented itself.
The soft power she wielded had failed to protect Mei Chen.
She settled onto the stone courtyard floor, crossing her legs into a meditation pose. The morning breeze rustled the branches overhead as she steadied her breathing.
The pill felt heavy on her tongue as she placed it there. With a quick motion, Xiulan gulped.
The pill settled like molten lead in her stomach. Heat radiated outward immediately, spreading through her core in unexpected waves. Every muscle tensed with an instinctive need to remain motionless. Don't move. Something's happening.
Energy exploded through her body without warning. White-hot power surged along unfamiliar pathways, setting every nerve ending ablaze.
Xiulan pressed both palms against her stomach, teeth clenched against the overwhelming sensation. The force threatened to tear her apart.
Every breath burned. She forced herself to inhale deeply, desperately seeking any relief from the crushing pressure. The rhythmic breathing seemed to direct the chaotic energy—not much, but enough to notice.
She maintained the pattern, focusing on each inhale and exhale.
Something shifted deep inside her with the next breath. Energy responded, drawing inward like water flowing downstream. She struggled to control the flow, keeping her breathing as steady as possible despite the strange sensations.
Intense warmth pooled in her lower abdomen. Xiulan directed all her focus there. The heat intensified, the pressure building rapidly.
It felt like she was going to explode until she finally tried to bear down on the chunk of molten fire that had turned into her dantian.
She struggled to maintain her breathing, but each breath pushed the burning energy outward, searching for release. It seemed like that was something she needed, so she gritted her teeth, focusing on directing that scorching force away from her center.
The sensation resembled trying to push water through clogged tubes—except the water burned and the tubes existed somewhere between reality and imagination.
Sweat dripped down her temples as she forced the energy further with each exhale. The burning spread, branching out in ways she couldn't quite map. She pushed harder, willing the power to extend beyond its current boundaries. Her muscles trembled with the effort, but she maintained the steady rhythm of her breathing.
The energy slammed into an invisible wall. Pressure built at the blockage point, creating an intense focal point of discomfort just below her right shoulder. Xiulan clenched her jaw, frustration mounting as the energy refused to advance. She increased the force behind her efforts, rage building at the unseen obstacle. Why wouldn't things just work??
The energy churned against the barrier, growing more volatile. Xiulan drew a deep breath and stilled her thoughts.
She closed her eyes, shifting attention inward to study the sensations coursing through her body. The energy responded to her focus, becoming more distinct—less like formless heat and more like distinct streams flowing through specific paths.
Maybe like circuit boards in a computer? The mental image helped.
She pictured glowing threads running through her body, creating intricate patterns of connection. She stopped forcing the energy and instead guided it along the imagined pathways. The burning sensation eased slightly as she worked with the flow rather than against it.
The pressure built against the blockage until something shifted with a distinct pop.
Energy surged through the newly opened pathway like water breaking through a dam. Relief flooded through her body as warmth spread outward from the breakthrough point. The sensation resembled unlocking an achievement in Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles , but a thousand times more intense and real.
Each deep breath drew more energy through the cleared meridian. Xiulan maintained the steady rhythm despite her trembling muscles. Sweat soaked through her robes as she fought to control the flow. The morning air felt cool against her burning skin.
The process demanded her complete focus. She guided the energy toward the next blocked point, probing for weakness. The obstruction felt solid, unyielding. She pushed harder, remembering how the first breakthrough yielded to persistent pressure. The energy swirled and built against the new barrier.
A second pop reverberated through her body. The rush of power nearly knocked her from her meditation pose. She steadied herself, forcing her breathing to remain even as energy flooded the newly opened pathway. The sensation intensified—like lightning contained within her flesh.
The two cleared meridians pulsed with each breath. Xiulan directed the flow between them, learning to control the strange new force. Her muscles ached from maintaining stillness, but she dared not move. Not yet. She was only half done.
She steadied her breathing as the initial surge of power settled into a manageable flow, looping between the first two meridians.
The overwhelming heat diminished, replaced by an odd tingling sensation that spread through her limbs. Pins and needles prickled beneath her skin, reminiscent of a limb falling asleep—but stronger, more persistent. The discomfort nagged at her concentration.
Focus. This means it's working. The tingling intensified as she pushed power toward her extremities. Each successful connection to the smaller pools sparked a small burst of warmth, adding strength to her previously dormant channels.
A meridian in her left arm opened with a subtle pop. The sensation repeated in her right arm moments later. Warmth spread down her legs as additional pathways cleared, each breakthrough adding to the building pressure in her core.
Heat bloomed across her chest, bringing an uncomfortable itch that demanded attention. Xiulan maintained her meditation pose despite the urge to scratch. The sensation spread outward from her sternum. No turning back now.
A sticky film formed on her skin as perspiration beaded up and rolled down her temples. The liquid felt thicker than normal sweat, carrying an acrid smell that made her nose wrinkle. But as the foul-smelling substance seeped from her pores, a curious lightness spread through her body. Each breath came easier, cleaner somehow, as if clearing years of accumulated dust from her lungs.
There were still more meridians to clear, though. She could feel that clearly where pools of energy didn't flow correctly. She focused on them and not on the black sweat.
A blockage in her left leg yielded first. The breakthrough sent tingles racing down to her toes. Her right leg followed, opening with a sharp crack that made her muscles twitch.
Another obstruction refused to budge near her spine. Xiulan gathered more energy, forcing it against the stubborn point. The pressure built until her teeth ached. Still nothing. She doubled down, channeling everything she could muster into breaking through.
The resistance held firm. Frustration mounted as she hit the same wall repeatedly. Think. There must be a way. Her shoulders trembled.
Deep breaths helped steady her racing thoughts. The rhythm of inhale and exhale created a pattern—like waves washing against a shore. Energy responded to the natural cycle, flowing more smoothly with each controlled breath.
Xiulan matched her power to the rhythm. Push with the exhale, gather with the inhale. The method felt right somehow, more controlled than brute force. The blockage in her spine opened all at once, sending a rush of energy upward to her head, only to slam into an even tighter block at the base of her skull.
The energy rebounded dramatically and then…
The breakthrough hit without warning.
Pure power exploded through the opening as it suddenly had a full loop to flow through. Instead of pooling, it ran like a river. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids as she fought to contain the surge. Each breath came in desperate gasps while she struggled to regulate the overwhelming force.
The chaotic energy shifted—transformed into something crystalline and pure. The struggle against resistance melted away, replaced by smooth, controlled flows that responded to her slightest intention.
Xiulan directed the purified energy inward, following an instinctive pull toward her core. The power spiraled down into her dantian like water finding its natural level. Heat pooled there, steady and controlled rather than the earlier volcanic surge.
An instinct prodded at her consciousness—she was filthy. On the inside.
Xiulan spread the energy outward in a wave, sweeping through her system like an internal cleansing tide. More of the thick, acrid sweat beaded on her skin, this time in large, thick sheets. The foul substance was made up of the waste her body couldn't rid itself of, the toxins from the medicine pills she had taken… all of it had built up over years.
A second wave pushed out more of the impurities, leaving her tissues cleaner and more receptive to her will.
She turned it into another cycle.
More and more filth flushed out of her, more than seemed possible. Was it possible to shrivel up into a dehydrated husk?
Keep breathing. This has to pass eventually. The sensation grew until her skin crawled with revulsion. Xiulan maintained her meditation pose despite the overwhelming urge to claw at her arms and face.
The putrid smell hit her nose next—a mix of rancid meat and chemical waste that made her stomach turn. The substance rolled down, collecting in dark pools on the stone beneath her. Xiulan clenched her jaw against the urge to gag.
Deep breaths seemed to speed up the process. She drew air into her lungs with deliberate force, pushing it out in sharp exhales. More of the black substance flowed with each breath cycle. The acrid stench grew stronger as pools of the toxin spread around her.
Her body grew lighter. A strange clarity sharpened her senses—sounds grew crisper, scents more distinct. Even the morning light seemed brighter through her closed eyelids. The changes felt alien, yet somehow right.
The force inside her flowed smooth and cool now, like fresh spring water.
Strength flooded her limbs. The exhaustion from the initial breakthrough melted away. Cherry blossom scents drifted stronger on the morning breeze.
Xiulan directed her attention inward, probing the energy pathways with careful focus. Smaller channels branched off from the main meridians—tiny tributaries she'd missed before. A subtle blockage restricted flow through one near her shoulder. She gathered power and pressed against it.
The minor obstruction yielded with a soft pop. Energy rushed through the newly opened pathway, spreading warmth through previously dormant tissue. Xiulan traced more of the smaller channels, breaking through each resistance point methodically. Every breakthrough strengthened the overall flow, like clearing debris from a running stream.
Black fluid continued seeping from her pores, but thinner now, more watery than tar. The acrid smell faded as the already expelled filth thickened into a tar.
The transformation settled into her bones. Her body felt lighter yet more solid—like steel replacing iron. Raw physical power thrummed through her tissues.
This was only the first step on a long path, but Xiulan recognized the milestone for what it represented. She had crossed the threshold into true cultivation. Thanks, ridiculous gold pill.
Xiulan pushed against the ground, rising on shaky legs. Her ruined silk robes clung to her skin, saturated with viscous black gunk.
I should have stripped first. The thought came too late as she peeled off the destroyed garments. The fabric squelched, releasing fresh waves of putrid odor. Dark stains had seeped deep into the fibers, permanently marking them.
They'd need to burn it or something.
The morning air prickled against her bare skin. She snatched a clean cloth from nearby and scraped at the residue coating her arms and torso.
The black substance smeared rather than wiped away, reminding her of the rotten flesh coated scarecrow that had appeared in the main hall. She scrubbed harder, desperate to remove every trace.
"Miss Lin!" A servant's startled cry echoed from the residence.
Xiulan ignored the outburst and turned to sprint through the residence and to the bathhouse. Her feet left dark prints on the path. The need to cleanse the filth from her skin overwhelmed any concern for modesty.
Chapter 21: Purifying Gale
Hot water enveloped Xiulan as she sank beneath the surface for the third time. The servants' frantic footsteps echoed against the stone walls, amplified by her heightened senses. Each splash of fresh water thundered like a waterfall. The harsh scrape of buckets against stone made her wince.
"More hot water! Quickly!" A servant's shout pierced through the chaos.
Heavy boots approached from outside. "Miss Lin, is everything—"
"Out! Out you brute!" The sharp whack of broom bristles against armor accompanied the maid's shriek. "How dare you endanger Miss Lin's reputation!"
The guard retreated under the assault of the cleaning implement. Xiulan might have laughed if her skin didn't feel like it was on fire from oversensitivity. Every brush stroke sent lightning through her nerves.
"Miss Xiulan!" Auntie Lan burst through the doorway. "What happened? Are you—"
"Auntie Lan." Xiulan tried to focus through the overwhelming sensations. "The back garden needs your personal attention. There's a mess that must be cleaned immediately."
Another servant attacked her arm with a stiff brush and thick soap. The lather felt like sandpaper. "My robes are ruined, but retrieve the emergency healing pills and the gold pill first. Then burn everything and rinse the ground."
"And Instructor Han must secure the courtyard. Only trusted people in or out until I've inspected all staff." The words tumbled out as Xiulan struggled to maintain her composure. Every splash echoed like thunder.
Auntie Lan blinked in confusion.
"Please, Auntie. Go now." Xiulan managed a gentle smile despite feeling like her skin might crawl off her body.
The elderly maid nodded and hurried away.
"What is this awful substance, Miss Lin?" A young servant held up a blackened cloth.
"Poison." Xiulan regretted the word as soon as it left her mouth.
Gasps erupted around the bathhouse. The servants redoubled their efforts, scrubbing harder as panic spread through their ranks. More buckets of water appeared as if summoned by magic.
When she was finally scrubbed raw, Xiulan slipped into the black-dyed martial arts robe. The fabric draped perfectly across her shoulders and the gold embroidery blended seamlessly into the dark fabric—perfect for a night operation.
"Miss Lin, please." Servant girl Ming held up a vibrant red sash. "An outfit needs contrast. At least this small touch of color would maintain propriety."
Xiulan accepted the sash with a slight nod. The girl made sense, even if stealth remained the priority. "Very well."
Two servants stepped forward to style her hair. "Up, please. A simple bun with a single braided ponytail." The women's fingers worked swiftly through her dark strands. Each touch sent sparks of sensation across Xiulan's scalp, but she forced herself to remain still.
The mirror reflected a familiar yet altered image. The martial outfit hugged her frame perfectly, the red sash providing a striking accent against the darkness. But beneath the surface, power surged through her body like lightning trapped in a bottle. Energy coiled in her core, demanding release.
Xiulan clenched her jaw. The sun had already passed its peak—there were only hours remaining until nightfall. That's when she would need to move.
She left the bathhouse and strode toward the back garden, where five servants wielded long wooden poles like giant chopsticks. They prodded at the black, tar-covered objects scattered across the ground. One servant snagged a pill from the mess, lifting it carefully.
"Gently now!" Another servant dunked the retrieved pill in a water basin. Her cloth squeaked against the surface as she polished away the residue. Then she brought it to Lan Zhao.
Auntie Lan brightened at Xiulan's approach and extended her palm. The two emergency healing pills and the golden meridian pill gleamed against her weathered skin.
"Thank heaven we saved these." Auntie Lan pressed them into Xiulan's hand. "But what happened here? This black substance that covered you and now mars the garden—"
"I walk the path to immortality now." Xiulan said as she tucked the pills into her sleeve.
Auntie Lan's mouth dropped open. "What? How could you possibly—"
Xiulan pointed to where servants dumped bucket after bucket of water onto the sticky black residue. "The evidence spreads before you. I broke through this morning while practicing alchemy."
Auntie Lan's weathered face crumpled. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed as she processed Xiulan's words. Each line etched deeper into her features spoke of decades serving the Lin family—and now the prospect of losing one she'd watched grow from infancy.
Xiulan's chest tightened at the elderly maid's expression. The Empire's cultivation laws loomed over them like storm clouds. Even the lowest cultivator faced restrictions on mortal interactions. Those who achieved immortality abandoned their earthly ties completely, ascending beyond the mundane world.
"I know this path leads to difficult choices." Xiulan kept her voice gentle but firm. "But I am only on the first step. We have time before any separation would be forced."
Auntie Lan dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.
"For now, please gather all household staff in the main courtyard garden." Xiulan straightened her black robes. "I need to speak with Instructor Han first, then address everyone together."
"Yes, Miss Xiulan." Auntie Lan bowed low, her movements stiff with emotion. She turned and walked away, her usual grace weighted.
Xiulan turned and sought her guards.
Instructor Han's broad-shouldered silhouette moved between the guard posts along the courtyard wall. Xiulan strode across the garden to intercept him.
"Instructor Han."
He turned and bowed. "Miss Lin."
"Take me to the equipment storage."
"Is something amiss?" His weathered face creased with concern.
"I need weapons."
Han frowned, but nodded. He led her across the courtyard to the converted side building. The scent of leather and metal filled the barracks. New beds lined the walls, each with a sturdy chest beside it. At the far end, racks of weapons and gear stood organized in neat rows.
"What do you require?" Han asked.
"A concealed dagger—something that fits in my sleeve. And a short spear."
"The training spears are—"
"No." Xiulan cut through his words. "I need real weapons, not practice ones."
Han's expression hardened, but he moved to the weapon racks without argument. He selected a spear and presented it for inspection. Xiulan grasped the shaft, setting the butt against the floor. The tip reached her shoulder, its foot-long double-edged blade gleaming in the dim light. A small crescent guard marked the transition between blade and shaft.
"Will you tell me what's happening?" Han's quiet question carried genuine concern.
Xiulan studied the spear's blade while weighing her response. The weapon would serve her needs.
She looked at her head guard. Han deserved to know—there had been so many opportunities for him and the guards to betray her. But she knew it wasn't him.
"I've become a cultivator." Xiulan met his gaze. "And tonight, I'm rescuing Mei Chen."
Han blinked twice, mouth ajar.
"I broke through this morning." Xiulan repeated each word with careful emphasis.
Silence stretched between them. The distant sounds of servants moving through the garden filtered through the walls. Han stood motionless, processing her words. A full minute passed before he exhaled sharply.
"Miss Lin, even for a cultivator, this presents extreme danger. The breakthrough just occurred—you can't possibly have adjusted to your enhanced strength. Our combat training barely scratched the surface of proper technique."
"They've held her for an entire day." Xiulan tested the spear's balance with a slight twist. "After everything they've done, I won't leave her there past nightfall. She comes home tonight."
"Haa..." Han rubbed his weathered face. "We have a few hours until sunset. Energy and exhaustion shouldn't limit you anymore, correct?"
Xiulan nodded firmly. "Training would help, but first I need to handle something else. I'll return for personal lessons afterward."
"What task demands attention now?"
"Checking a rat to see what disease it carries." Xiulan's fingers tightened around the spear shaft.
Xiulan strode into the main garden where servants clustered in small groups, their whispers echoing against her enhanced hearing like waves crashing on rocks. The spear balanced perfectly across her shoulders, its weight a comforting presence.
"Form a line!" Her command cut through the murmurs. The servants scrambled to comply, arranging themselves in a rough formation.
"Better." Xiulan paced before them, boots crunching against the gravel path. "When I stop in front of you, shout 'Miss Lin' as loudly as possible."
Confused glances passed between the servants. Xiulan stopped before the first one—an elderly kitchen worker.
"M-Miss Lin?" The uncertain squeak drew a frown from Xiulan.
"Louder! Like you mean it!"
"Miss Lin!" The next servant's shout carried more conviction.
The pattern continued down the line, each cry hammering against Xiulan's heightened senses. She gritted her teeth against the assault of sound, but pressed forward. Halfway through, a particular voice stopped her cold.
Xiulan spun toward a young servant girl dressed in plain brown robes. "Again."
"Miss Lin!" The girl's voice trembled.
"Your name?"
"Ming Hua, Miss Lin." Sweat beaded on the girl's forehead.
"You called my name earlier today." Xiulan stepped closer. "Near the back garden."
Ming Hua's face paled. Her hands twisted in her robes.
"Orders were explicit—no one enter the main residence without permission." Xiulan's words cut like steel. "Why were you there?"
Ming Hua remained frozen.
"Follow." Xiulan pointed at Ming Hua. "The rest of you are dismissed." She turned to stride toward the main building, boots crunching against the gravel path. Ming Hua's trembling footsteps followed behind, accompanied by Auntie Lan's steadier tread.
The main hall's familiar scents of incense and polished wood enveloped them. Xiulan settled into the carved wooden chair, crossing one leg over the other. The black martial robes rustled with the movement. "Kneel."
"But Miss..." Ming Hua wrung her hands. "I didn't do anything!"
"You dare speak to Miss Lin with such disrespect?" Auntie Lan stepped forward, radiating disapproval.
Ming Hua dropped to her knees, head bowed. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the latticed windows cast harsh shadows across her face.
"You saw quite a lot earlier today, didn't you?" Xiulan drummed her fingers against the chair's armrest.
The servant mumbled something unintelligible, shoulders hunched.
"Let me share something interesting." Xiulan leaned forward. "I've become an immortal cultivator. I can sense truth and lies now."
Of course, that was a bald-faced lie, but there was no need to tell her that.
Ming Hua's face drained of color. Her hands trembled against the polished floor.
"Here's what will happen." Xiulan softened her tone. "Answer my questions truthfully, and I'll protect you from whoever ordered you to spy on me. You're just following orders, after all. Mercy awaits those who cooperate. Wouldn't you prefer that?"
Ming Hua pressed her forehead to the floor. "Please, Miss Lin! Ask anything! I'll tell you everything!"
Chapter 22: Infiltration Gust
If this is just the first step, what monsters exist at the peak?
Xiulan flexed idly against her spear, slightly bending the steel shaft while watching the sun paint fading orange streaks across the courtyard. Hours of sparring with Instructor Han had barely produced a single bead of sweat.
The massive gulf between mortal and immortal stretched before her like an endless chasm.
In Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles , each cultivation realm towered above the last—Body Refinement, Qi Gathering, Qi Refinement, Foundation Forming, and Golden Core. The spiritual and deity realms that lay beyond those stages existed in an entirely different dimension of power.
Each step represented not just an improvement, but a fundamental transformation.
Xiulan defeated Han in every exchange, and not because he lacked skill.
His combat experience meant nothing against the raw power coursing through her enhanced body. With his guidance and her focus, the spear moved like an extension of her will rather than a weapon.
The darkening sky signaled the time for action. Xiulan gripped her spear and strode toward the courtyard exit. A dozen armed guards blocked her path, faces set with determination. Han stood at their center.
"No." Xiulan frowned at their presence.
Han dropped into a formal salute. "We stand ready to assist, Miss Lin."
"And leave my mother unprotected?" Xiulan pinched the bridge of her nose. "The servants need you here. Mother needs you here."
"But Miss Lin—"
"Enough. I'll wield your sentiment within my heart." Xiulan brushed past the guards and through the moon gate.
The evening streets were dotted with the occasional merchant closing shop or servant rushing home. Their stares followed her black-robed figure and gleaming spear. Xiulan ducked into narrower alleyways, letting shadows mask her presence as she moved toward her target.
Lanterns blazed across the central sector, casting dancing shadows through the main square. Xiulan pressed against a wall, observing the crowd gathered outside the main hall.
Music and laughter spilled from within, accompanied by the clink of wine cups and the aroma of roasted meats. A celebration dinner. Of course.
Rage burned in Xiulan's chest. While Mei Chen suffered in captivity, her family feasted and made merry.
The contrast twisted like a knife in her gut.
Xiulan drew several measured breaths, forcing her cultivation-enhanced muscles to relax. The festivities provided perfect cover—the servants and guards focused on the main hall meant fewer eyes watching Madam Zhang's pavilion.
Moonlight silvered the courtyard walls as Xiulan crept along their perimeter. She located a shadowed alcove between two decorative pillars and coiled her legs beneath her.
The jump cleared the wall with ease, her enhanced strength carrying her well above the barrier. She landed in a perfect crouch atop the narrow stone surface, balanced as precisely as a cat.
Xiulan scanned the empty courtyard below. Paper lanterns swayed in the evening breeze, casting shifting patterns across manicured gardens and ornamental rocks.
Only the main gate was manned. No guards patrolled the grounds—they likely attended the celebration.
A small storage building offered the perfect cover. She dropped silently behind it, pressing close to its wooden walls.
Shadows stretched across the courtyard as Xiulan pressed against the cold stone wall. Each step measured, deliberate, soundless.
A splash echoed from nearby—soft but distinct in the evening silence. She froze, muscles tensed.
Moonlight glinted off a small wooden shed ahead. More splashing sounds drifted through its thin walls, accompanied by the rustle of fabric. Xiulan glided around the structure's perimeter, keeping to the deepest shadows.
A single servant worked inside, wringing wet clothes into a wooden basin. The knife slid silently from Xiulan's sleeve. Three swift steps brought her behind the woman. One hand clamped over the servant's mouth while the other pressed cold steel against her throat.
"Remain silent and answer my questions truthfully—you'll walk away unharmed." Xiulan breathed the words directly into the servant's ear. The woman trembled but managed a slight nod.
"I'll remove my hand. One scream and this blade finds a new home. Understood?" Another trembling nod. Xiulan slowly withdrew her palm.
"Where are they keeping the captured servant girl?"
"There's a—a dungeon beneath the main residence." The servant's whisper quavered. "But guards watch the entrance day and night."
Xiulan shifted her grip, wrapping her arm around the woman's throat in a precise hold. The servant's eyes widened in panic, but before she could struggle, pressure on her carotid arteries took effect. Her body went limp within seconds.
Xiulan eased the unconscious form to the ground, arranging her limbs to appear as if she'd simply fallen asleep at her work. The woman would wake with nothing worse than a headache. Hopefully.
Pressing against the shadow of ornamental trees, she crept toward the main residence. Two servants passed nearby, discussing the evening's festivities. She held perfectly still until their voices faded.
An elevated wooden platform stretched above—a perfect entry point. Her cultivation-enhanced muscles propelled her upward in a silent leap. The worn planks barely creaked under her careful steps.
Lantern light spilled through paper screens, casting moving shadows across the halls. Footsteps echoed from multiple directions. Xiulan slipped between rooms, tracking the sound patterns. The basement entrance had to connect to the main floor somewhere, but where?
More footsteps approached from both ends of the corridor. Xiulan's pulse quickened. No escape route presented itself. She'd need to—
A door slid open beside her.
"Sister, come in!" Zhang Wei's urgent whisper cut through her rising panic.
Xiulan dove through the opening. Zhang Wei snapped the door shut just as two sets of footsteps converged outside. She pressed into a darkened corner, barely daring to breathe.
"Young Master, are you alright?" A guard's voice carried through the thin screen.
"Just studying!" Zhang Wei's cheerful reply contained no hint of deception. "Father insisted."
The footsteps retreated. Xiulan's shoulders relaxed as silence returned.
Zhang Wei spun toward her, eyes wide as saucers. "You look like a shadow assassin!"
Xiulan propped her spear against the wall and knelt beside Zhang Wei. She ruffled his messy hair with gentle affection. "I'm on an important mission tonight, little brother."
"Mother confined me to my room as punishment." Zhang Wei slumped against the wall before perking up. "But I can still help! What do you need?"
"Have you seen anyone taken to the dungeon recently?" Xiulan kept her voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through her veins.
Zhang Wei's eyes stretched wide in the dim light. "I saw them take Mei Chen down there!" His shoulders drooped. "She hasn't come back out since."
A tense breath escaped Xiulan's lips. "That's why I'm here—to bring her home."
Light blazed in Zhang Wei's eyes as he bounced on his toes. The floorboards creaked beneath his excited movements.
"Where's the entrance to the dungeon?" Xiulan steadied him with a gentle hand.
"Behind the kitchen storehouse! There's a hidden door under the rice barrels." Zhang Wei traced the path in the air. "Turn right at the bottom of the stairs, then left at the first torch bracket."
Xiulan absorbed each detail with sharp focus before rising to retrieve her spear. The weapon's weight settled into her palm.
"What else can I do to help?" Zhang Wei clenched his small fists with determination.
"Stay here and keep quiet." Xiulan gripped his shoulder. "If you hear any commotion, shout for help. Draw as many people to you as possible and demand they protect you."
Zhang Wei's jaw set with fierce resolve. "I'll do my best, Sister!"
Xiulan slipped through the darkened corridors, following Zhang Wei's directions. Two guards blocked the entrance to the storage area, their postures relaxed as they chatted in low voices.
Her qi surged through her muscles. Xiulan launched forward, striking precise points on their necks. She caught their falling bodies to muffle any sound, lowering them gently.
No breath stirred their chests. No pulse thrummed beneath her fingers.
Bile rose in her throat. The cultivation enhancement had made her strikes lethal instead of incapacitating. Blood roared in her ears as her hands trembled.
Mei Chen needs me. The thought steadied her racing pulse. She forced herself to breathe, to focus on the mission ahead.
The heavy rice barrels scraped against the floor as she shifted them aside. A wooden trapdoor emerged from the shadows. Stale air wafted up as she eased it open, carrying the unmistakable stench of decay and human waste.
Darkness swallowed the narrow stone staircase. A single torch flickered at the bottom, casting writhing shadows across damp walls. Each step downward intensified the putrid smell.
Iron bars lined the corridor. The first cell gaped empty, its door hanging askew. Rusted chains dangled from the ceiling like skeletal fingers.
The second cell contained only moldering straw. The third—
Xiulan stumbled to a halt. Official Bo Qin's mutilated corpse hung suspended from chains, skin peeled away in methodical strips. A crimson pool spread beneath him, trickling toward a central drain. His severed fingers lay arranged on a nearby table amid gleaming tools.
Acid burned the back of her throat. Xiulan spun away, jogging past more empty cells. At the corridor's end, in the last cell, a small figure huddled in the corner.
"Mei Chen!" Xiulan gripped the cell bars. The metal refused to yield despite her enhanced strength. Frustration and rage boiled.
The bars snapped with a sharp crack at the floor and ceiling.
Chapter 23: Standard Antagonist Confrontation
Xiulan rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside Mei Chen's crumpled form. Relief flooded through her as she counted fingers, toes, limbs—all intact. The momentary comfort evaporated when she pulled Mei Chen into her lap.
Blood saturated the once-pristine servant's robes, now reduced to filthy tatters. Mei Chen's face bore the worst—swollen beyond recognition, crusted blood sealed her eyes shut. Raw, torn flesh marked systematic torture across her features.
"Mei Chen?" Xiulan pressed trembling fingers against Mei Chen's neck. The pulse flickered weakly beneath her touch, each beat separated by terrifying pauses. "Please wake up. Please."
Ice gripped Xiulan's spine. They'd meant for Mei Chen to die here, abandoned in this putrid cell. The thought sent rage coursing through her core.
Xiulan fumbled through her robes, fingers closing around Jin Wei's emergency pills. The small item nearly slipped from her blood-slicked hands.
"Mei Chen, you need to take this." Xiulan tapped Mei Chen's shoulder. "Please wake up enough to swallow."
A pained groan escaped Mei Chen's split lips—the only response to increasingly desperate attempts to rouse her.
Xiulan lifted the pill to Mei Chen's mouth, sliding it beneath her tongue. It wasn't meant to work that way, but maybe it could help somehow?
She needed something else. She set Mei Chen down gently and exited, bounding up stone steps two at a time. A clean water urn presented itself. She snatched it, along with a wooden bowl.
Back in the cell, Mei Chen remained motionless on the filthy floor. The unchanged pill still sat uselessly under her tongue. Xiulan pulled the second emergency pill from her robe. Drawing upon her qi, she channeled the energy into her palm and then squeezed with all her might. The fragments sparkled as they fell into the wooden bowl.
"Stupid." Xiulan muttered while removing the intact pill from Mei Chen's mouth. Her servants had already proven how resilient the pills were—they'd survived being covered in gunk and smacked around with sticks without a scratch.
Of course it wouldn't dissolve naturally in the mouth.
She cradled Mei Chen against her chest, positioning her head with a slight tilt. Xiulan dipped her finger into the medicine-infused water and carefully dripped the solution between Mei Chen's cracked lips.
Drop by drop, she fed the healing mixture to her friend. Each precious bead carried hope for recovery.
Xiulan's hands shook as she dripped more medicine between Mei Chen's lips.
Each drop rolled down without response.
The shallow rise and fall of Mei Chen's chest grew weaker. The erratic pulse beneath Xiulan's fingertips skipped and faltered.
A wet gurgle broke the dungeon's silence. Mei Chen's body shifted against the stone floor. Xiulan's breath caught.
"Mei Chen? Mei Chen!"
Trembling fingers clutched at Xiulan's black robes. The fabric bunched in Mei Chen's weak grip.
"Can you understand me?" Xiulan leaned closer, searching the battered face for signs of consciousness.
The slightest nod answered—barely perceptible in the dim light.
"Listen carefully. You need to swallow this healing pill." Xiulan pulled out the remaining emergency medicine pill. "Here, open your mouth." She pressed the pill past Mei Chen's split lips and lifted the wooden bowl. "Small sips. Please."
Mei Chen choked violently on the water. Her body convulsed, desperate wheezes echoing off stone walls. Xiulan's stomach lurched as Mei Chen struggled for air.
The coughing subsided, but no healing glow spread through Mei Chen's body. No color returned to her grey-tinged skin. Instead, her breathing grew more labored, each inhale a painful rasp.
"Please." Xiulan clutched Mei Chen's hand. "Please get better. Don't leave me here alone." The words tumbled out in desperate whispers. "I need you. Please."
The rasping breaths stopped.
Xiulan counted the seconds of silence. One. Three. Ten. Too many.
"No!" She pinched Mei Chen's nose closed, sealed their mouths together, and exhaled hard.
Mei Chen's chest rose with the forced breath. She convulsed, coughing weakly, then drew a shallow breath on her own.
But a few moments later Mei Chen's chest stilled again. The silence screamed louder than any torture could.
Xiulan pressed their mouths together again, forcing air into unresponsive lungs. One breath. Two breaths. Three.
A weak cough rewarded her efforts. Mei Chen drew shallow, rattling breaths—each one a desperate fight against inevitability.
Xiulan fumbled through her robes, fingers closing around the golden meridian opening pill. The sphere gleamed dully in the dim light, too large for Mei Chen to swallow in her current state. But Xiulan remembered the sensation—how it had dissolved almost immediately, spreading warmth through her body.
Tears blurred her vision as she tilted Mei Chen's head back. The pill slid past broken lips, and Xiulan guided it down as far as she could. Massaging the other girl's throat, she willed the medicine to work.
Nothing changed. The shallow breaths stopped.
Xiulan's fingers probed Mei Chen's mouth, searching for the pill—but it had vanished. She sealed their lips together once more, desperately trying to force life back into her friend's body. One breath. Two breaths. Three.
No response.
Xiulan sagged against the cold stone wall. The reality crashed over her like arctic water—Mei Chen lay dead in her arms. The bright, loyal girl who had stood by her side through everything… gone.
The tears dried on Xiulan's face as rage crystallized in her chest. They hadn't just killed a servant. They'd murdered her closest friend.
Xiulan gathered Mei Chen's broken body into her arms. The girl weighed almost nothing as Xiulan stood, turning toward the dungeon stairs.
She strode through the dim corridors. Blood dripped from Mei Chen's robes, marking their path across polished wooden floors.
A guard rounded the corner, spear leveled. "Halt! Identify yourself!"
Xiulan channeled qi into her leg. The wooden floor splintered beneath her boot heel, sending a wave of deadly fragments forward. The guard's eyes widened a moment before hundreds of wooden shards impaled him. His body flew backward, pinned to the far wall like a grotesque decoration.
A familiar scream pierced the night air from across the compound. "Help! Assassin! Save me!"
"Protect Young Master Lin!" Guards shouted from every direction.
Tears welled in Xiulan's eyes at Zhang Wei's perfect distraction. The sound of armored footsteps thundered through adjacent corridors as guards rushed toward his voice. Several ran past without sparing her a glance, their attention fixed on reaching their young master.
Xiulan pressed forward, each step leaving bloody footprints on the previously immaculate floors. The main gate loomed. She pushed through, emerging into the cool night air. Lantern light spilled across the square from her father's ongoing banquet.
The crowd gathered outside the hall only noticed her approach when she was on top of them. Gasps rippled through the gathered servants. They scrambled backward, creating a path toward the stairs. Golden light from overhead lanterns cast dancing shadows across Mei Chen's battered face.
Xiulan ascended, her enhanced muscles making the burden of her precious cargo feel weightless. The warm glow of the banquet hall beckoned.
She stepped into the banquet hall. Soldiers filled half the seats, their armor gleaming beneath paper lanterns.
The celebrations died as she advanced. Whispers faded to silence. The scent of spilled wine and rich food mixed with the metallic tang of blood dripping from Mei Chen's lifeless form.
Noble faces turned ashen. Several guests stumbled back from their seats. Xiulan's gaze fixed on the high table where her family sat in resplendent silks. Lord Lin's stern disapproval. Madam Zhang's smug satisfaction. Lin Jin's barely concealed hatred. Qian and Fei's matching sneers. Only Suyin showed genuine horror at the sight before them.
Xiulan shoved the nearest guests aside. Their chairs clattered across the polished floor. Dishes crashed as she swept a table clear with one arm, laying Mei Chen's broken body across the lacquered surface. Blood pooled beneath her, staining elaborate carvings of phoenixes and dragons.
"What is the meaning of this?" Lord Lin's shout echoed through the hall.
"You tortured and murdered her!" The words tore from Xiulan's throat.
Madam Zhang's lips curved into a cruel smile. "See how belligerent she has become? This is because you coddle her and that woman."
Lord Lin shot to his feet, jabbing a finger at Xiulan. "You are no longer the second daughter—you are a concubine's brat! You've shamed this family!"
Ice crystallized in Xiulan's chest. "It would have been fine if you had just let things be." Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper that somehow still carried across the entire hall. "But, YOU KILLED HER!"
"You dare?" Lord Lin's face purpled with rage.
"I... dare?" The words hissed through Xiulan's clenched teeth. Her hand flexed, missing the familiar weight of her spear.
A guard stood frozen nearby, weapon loose in his grip. Xiulan crossed the distance in a single qi-enhanced step. The spear tore free as she backhanded him. His body crumpled.
Xiulan spun toward the high table, weapon raised. The spear left her hand like lightning.
Wood splintered. Steel flashed. Sister Qian's head separated from her shoulders in a spray of crimson. Her body slumped forward as arterial blood painted elaborate robes and delicate dishes. The headless corpse twitched, heart still pumping frantically.
Screams erupted through the hall. Guests scrambled over each other in panic.
"GUARDS! KILL HER!" Lord Lin's command thundered above the chaos.
Xiulan kicked the ornate banquet table. It spun through the air, scattering dishes and wine as it crashed into the approaching guards. Their armored bodies tumbled like scattered pins. She snatched a fallen spear from the chaos, testing its familiar weight.
The remaining guards moved with practiced efficiency—Lord Lin spared no expense on their equipment or training. Their polished armor gleamed beneath the paper lanterns as they formed a coordinated attack pattern.
Each face showed grim determination, having witnessed her earlier display of lethal force. They surged forward as one unit.
Instructor Han's training took over. Xiulan's enhanced muscles responded with fluid grace. Her heart maintained a steady rhythm as she regulated her breathing. The world slowed to a crystalline focus.
Steel flashed through the air. Xiulan weaved between thrusting spears like water flowing around stones. The shaft of her weapon bent with a resounding crack as it connected with a guard's temple. His unconscious form catapulted into two others, sending them sprawling.
Three more guards lunged forward. Xiulan side-stepped their coordinated attack. Her boot swept the lead attacker's leg, toppling him forward. In the same motion, her spear pierced through the second and third guards' breastplates. Hot blood sprayed across her black robes.
The spear stuck fast in cooling flesh. Xiulan released it, grabbing another guard's weapon mid-thrust. She spun, using his own momentum to launch him through the air. He crashed into a pillar with a sickening crunch.
Her gaze locked onto the high table. Madam Zhang's smug expression faltered as understanding dawned—these guards couldn't stop what was coming. Raw fear replaced her step-mother's usual contempt.
Xiulan sprinted forward. Guards moved to intercept, weapons raised. She leaped, muscles coiling with qi-enhanced power. Her fingers caught the overhead beam. She flexed, kicked off the wooden support, and soared through the air.
Her boots slammed into the high table. Expensive wood splintered beneath the impact, splitting the elaborate furniture in two. Dishes shattered. Wine splashed across silk robes.
Madam Zhang grabbed Fei's arm with desperate strength. Both women turned to flee.
Xiulan surged forward. Her spear hummed through the air, finding its mark between Sister Fei's shoulder blades with surgical precision. Steel parted flesh and bone, severing her spine.
Fei dropped like a puppet with cut strings, dragging Madam Zhang down. Zhang tugged at her daughter's limp form.
"Get up! Keep moving!" Zhang's shrill commands echoed through the hall.
Xiulan advanced. Blood dripped from her spear's tip, each crimson drop marking her approach. Madam Zhang pulled Fei's motionless body into an embrace, tears streaming down her painted face as she stared up at Xiulan.
"Feels terrible, doesn't it?" Xiulan's words cut like ice.
The spear whistled through the air toward Zhang's throat. Steel rang against steel as a sword intercepted the strike. Another slash forced Xiulan to redirect her weapon.
Brother Lin Jin pressed forward, his blade weaving an intricate dance of death. Each strike flowed with practiced precision, testing her defenses from multiple angles. Xiulan backpedaled, recognizing the gulf between his mastery and her basic training.
Her enhanced muscles strained to match his speed. While she relied on raw power and reflexes, Jin's attacks demonstrated years of refined technique. His sword found gaps in her defense she hadn't known existed.
But he still couldn't touch her.
He committed to an overhead strike, putting his full weight behind the blow. Xiulan recognized the opening and countered with everything she had. Their weapons met with devastating force. Jin's sword spiraled away into the darkness.
"No!" Lord Lin's desperate shout pierced the air.
Xiulan's concealed dagger slid into her palm. She drove the blade up under Jin's chin before tossing his body aside like discarded waste.
A metallic glint caught her eye. Madam Zhang's arm swept outward. Pain erupted across Xiulan's chest and arm as hidden needles found their mark.
She plucked the needles from her flesh with methodical precision, letting each one clatter against the wooden floor. Blood trickled from the tiny wounds.
"At least we'll all die here together!" Madam Zhang spat the words through clenched teeth.
A cold smile spread across Xiulan's face as she leaned close enough to smell the expensive perfume on Zhang's neck. "That poison can't touch me anymore. I've taken the first step on the path to immortality."
Zhang's eyes widened in recognition. The implication hit home a moment before Xiulan's blade opened her throat. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc as Zhang collapsed.
A choked sob drew Xiulan's attention. Suyin huddled in the corner, shoulders shaking as she pressed herself against the wall. Her elaborate robes spread around her like fallen petals.
Xiulan's spear tip carved a meandering line through polished floorboards as she approached. She squatted before her sister, studying the tear-streaked face she'd once trusted.
"Why did you have to be like them, Sister Suyin?" The words dripped with acid. "Ming Hua fell over herself telling everything. Did you know your little game with the scroll would get Mei Chen arrested? Killed?"
The sharp scent of urine filled the air as Suyin dissolved into fresh sobs.
Xiulan stood, adjusting her grip on the spear. The weapon pierced through silk and flesh with equal ease, pinning Suyin to the wall like a butterfly in a collection. Her sister's eyes went wide, then vacant.
A shuffle of armored boots drew her attention. Lord Lin stood rigid behind the ruins of the high table, surrounded by a protective ring of guards. Their weapons gleamed in the lantern light as they advanced.
Xiulan gripped the edge of a nearby table. The polished wood creaked under her fingers before she launched it through the air. Guards scattered like leaves, their formation breaking as they dove to avoid the projectile. Several tangled in their own spears, armor clanking against the floor.
She turned to Suyin's corpse, yanking the blood-slicked spear from flesh and wood. The weapon came free with a wet sound that echoed through the hall.
The remaining guards regrouped, falling into a practiced spear formation. Steel tips gleamed in the lantern light as they advanced in lockstep. Xiulan dropped into a low stance, angling her spear parallel to the ground. The guards thrust as one—just as she'd anticipated.
Her weapon caught their spears from below. She twisted, channeling qi through her arms. The guards' weapons flew upward, leaving them exposed. Xiulan struck like lightning. The spear blurred as she pierced throats and joints, finding gaps between armor plates. Each thrust met flesh with surgical precision.
Armored bodies thudded against the wooden dais.
A bead of sweat rolled down Xiulan's temple. The needle wounds across her chest burned with increasing intensity. The poison was actually doing something, even if it was not much.
Lord Lin took a step back, his elaborate robes rustling against the floor. Fear replaced his usual stern countenance.
Xiulan raised her chin, meeting his gaze. Blood dripped from her spear onto polished wood as she planted it firmly. "I guess I dare, father."
"How could you murder your family?" Lord Lin's words echoed through the blood-soaked hall.
Xiulan barked out a harsh laugh. "Family? The same family that wanted me dead? Tried to poison me? The same family that murdered my maid?" Her spear traced idle patterns in the pooling blood. "Seems fair to me."
Lord Lin's teeth ground audibly. He thrust a finger toward the carnage. "That woman was a commoner! You slaughter your own blood over a servant?"
"That commoner meant more to me than all your pathetic lives combined." Xiulan spat blood onto the polished floor. "Maybe you should have considered that before handing her to a sadist for torture and murder."
Steel sang through the air as Lord Lin drew his sword. The blade caught lantern light, reflecting crimson from the bloodstained floors. He lunged forward with devastating speed.
Xiulan thrust her spear outward, maintaining critical distance. The difference between Jin's sword work and her father's mastery struck her immediately. Each of his attacks flowed with lethal precision, forcing her into a desperate retreat.
Raw power emanated from Lord Lin's form as he pressed forward. His sword became a silver arc of death. Xiulan deflected a thrust aimed at her throat, then barely parried a slash that would have opened her belly. She countered with a desperate thrust that drove him back half a step.
The railing beckoned behind her. Xiulan leaped onto the narrow wooden beam, twisting over Lord Lin's horizontal slash. She somersaulted through the air, striking at his exposed back—but his blade was already there, steel ringing against steel.
Their weapons clashed in a deadly dance. An invisible force pulsed through Lord Lin's movements, lending supernatural speed and power to each strike. His sword technique spoke of decades of refinement.
Xiulan caught Lord Lin's next thrust. Her enhanced muscles tensed as she twisted the spear shaft. Steel flashed. Blood sprayed across polished floors as his severed hand dropped with a wet thud, still clutching the ornate sword.
The difference crystallized in that moment. He fought with mortal strength against her cultivator's might. His decades of martial mastery meant nothing against the fundamental gap between their existences.
Even as the youngest sapling on the mountain, she towered above the earthbound trees below.
Lord Lin snatched a concealed knife from his robes with his remaining hand. Xiulan's boot connected with his wrist. The blade clattered across bloodstained wood. She planted her foot against his chest and shoved. His body crashed to the floor.
He pushed up to his knees, blood pooling beneath his maimed arm.
She pressed her boot against Lord Lin's leg. The crunch of bone beneath her heel brought a primal shriek from his throat.
"Rejoice, father." Xiulan twisted her foot. Another crack punctuated his scream. "Your daughter walks the path to immortality now. The Lin Family name will echo through the ages."
Lord Lin writhed beneath her boot. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought against the pain.
"And Zhang Wei—" A genuine smile touched Xiulan's lips. "That precious boy somehow grew up pure despite the rot surrounding him. He'll make an excellent young master and heir with my help."
Lord Lin snarled. His maimed arm swept upward in a desperate arc. Hot blood splashed across Xiulan's face, metallic droplets stinging her eyes.
"Ungrateful wretch! After everything this family gave you—"
"It's a two-way street, dad."
The spear plunged down. Steel parted flesh and bone as the blade drove through his mouth and out the back of his neck. His eyes widened, then dimmed as life drained away.
The thundering in Xiulan's ears settled to silence. She wiped her face with her sleeve, but there was so much blood that all it did was smear and prevent the drips from entering her eyes.
The cold emptiness that had filled her since finding Mei Chen's broken body remained unchanged.
Sorrow crashed over her like a wave. All the death, all the blood—none of it would bring Mei Chen back. Rage burned out, leaving only ashes and grief.
Xiulan turned toward the entrance. Bodies littered the hall like fallen leaves. The guards who had chosen not to flee lay cooling in expanding pools of crimson.
Her boots left crimson footprints across polished wood as she trudged toward the entrance.
The lacquered table where she'd placed Mei Chen's body came into view.
Xiulan's steps faltered.
Dark liquid roiled off her body and cascaded off the wood's edge, pooling on the floor below.
"Mei Chen?" The name escaped as barely a whisper.
Chapter 24: Muted Airs
Incense smoke curled through the morning air, mingling with the earthy scent of rain-soaked earth. Xiulan's white silk robes whispered against stone as she led a procession toward the Lin Family's ancestor hall. Each step echoed against cobblestones worn smooth by generations of mourners.
Monks flanked the path, their yellow and crimson robes stark against the misty gray backdrop. Bronze bells chimed softly as they waved smoking joss sticks in practiced motions. The sweet, heavy scent of sandalwood drifted past.
Behind Xiulan, the steady thud of ceremonial drums marked time with funeral dirges. Mourners dressed in coarse hemp shuffled forward, heads bowed in respect or fear—perhaps both. Their quiet sobs punctuated the monks' rhythmic chanting.
Each careful step brought her closer to the carved dragons guarded by ancient tablets. The weight of tradition pressed down like the heavy clouds overhead.
Smoke stung Xiulan's eyes as she passed another group of monks. Their low voices rose and fell in sutras, prayers for the dead echoing off stone walls. The bitter scent of medicinal herbs mixed with the incense—purification rituals for the departed souls.
Zhao Lian sat straight-backed near the altar in pristine white, accepting condolences from a steady stream of visitors with practiced grace. Her perfect composure befitted her new status as regent for Zhang Wei. Each bow and murmured response followed the exact dictates of propriety—no more, no less.
The wooden floorboards creaked under Xiulan's feet as she stepped into the hall. A sudden gust of wind swept through the space, extinguishing every candle in rapid succession.
The temperature plummeted. An invisible weight pressed against her chest, making each breath shallow and sharp.
Two monks shot accusatory glares at her from beside the altar. They waved their ceremonial sticks in frantic patterns while chanting.
She ignored the suspicious stares that trained upon her. But Zhang Wei's tear-stained face struck deeper than any prayer. His red-rimmed eyes fixed on her along with every other gaze in the hall—a collective weight of judgment and fear.
Xiulan plucked an incense stick from the bronze holder. The familiar motions carried her through lighting it and performing the ritual bow.
"May the ancestors guide and protect our family through this time of transition." The formal words fell from her lips without emotion.
She spun on her heel and strode from the suffocating hall, leaving the whispers and stares behind.
Xiulan quickened her pace as soon as she was outside, only for a procession of officials to block the main path. Their silk robes rustled against the cobblestones while servants scurried around them like mice. She cut through a side garden instead, crushing dew-laden grass beneath her feet.
The morning air carried whispers that stung worse than the incense smoke.
Despite her mother's careful misdirection about a vengeful cultivator's attack, truth proved more enticing to wagging tongues. The real story spread like wildfire—how the rebellious Lin daughter had cleared her path to power with ruthless efficiency.
Let them whisper. Let them stare. Xiulan lifted her chin as she crossed the central courtyard.
Servants scattered before her, averting their eyes. A group of wives huddled near the moon gate pressed their fans to their lips, but their judgment radiated clearly. The 'proper' meek young lady they'd known existed only in memory now.
The thought brought a bitter smile to her lips. She'd never wanted to be their kind of lady anyway.
The doors to her new pavilion—Madam Zhang's former residence—stood open. Fresh paint gleamed on the carved panels where servants had spent days scrubbing away old stains.
Inside, stacks of ledgers and letters provided ample evidence of her family's corruption. The papers formed a shield against the officials who'd descended like vultures on the manor.
Xiulan bit her lip. Her mother bore the heaviest burden, fielding endless questions while she remained largely untouched. The thought soured in her stomach as she approached the gate guard.
They bowed low. "Miss Lin."
"Any disturbances?" Xiulan asked.
"All quiet, Miss." The guard straightened. "No problems to report."
Xiulan stepped into the courtyard, her feet carrying her past blooming spring floors and carefully tended rock gardens.
New servants bowed deeply as she passed, their unfamiliar faces a constant reminder of how much had changed. The expansion from her modest three-building courtyard to the sprawling residence had required dozens of additional staff.
She hadn't dared keep any of the old.
The main pavilion rose before her, its sweeping eaves casting long shadows across the stone path. While the space ranked second only to the Lord's Pavilion and Great Hall in size, the grandeur felt hollow. Each polished wooden beam and ornate carving served as a reminder of what she'd done to acquire it.
Taking the carved stairs two at a time, Xiulan turned down a hallway leading to the guest quarters. Lan Zhao stood guard at the door, offering a respectful bow as Xiulan approached.
"Has there been any change?" Xiulan kept her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her chest.
"No, Miss." Lan Zhao shook her head. "But the room grows colder, still. Several maids spoke of evil spirits lurking within. I've restricted access to only our most trusted."
"Thank you for your diligence." Xiulan squared her shoulders. "I'll be taking tea with Doctor Jin Wei shortly. Please arrange something suitable."
"At once, Miss." Lan Zhao bowed again before hurrying off to prepare the tea service.
The paper door slid open with a soft whisper. A wave of cold air brushed against Xiulan's skin as she stepped into the dim room. The temperature dropped several degrees compared to the hallway—an unnatural chill.
In the center of the room, Mei Chen lay motionless on a simple wooden bed. Her hands rested peacefully on her chest, fingers interlaced as if in prayer. The white silk bedding emphasized her pallid complexion.
Xiulan crossed the polished wooden floor and sank onto the cushion beside the bed. The familiar scent of jasmine oil lingered in the air—the same fragrance Mei Chen had always used to scent her hair. Xiulan wrapped her fingers around Mei Chen's delicate wrist, searching for any sign of life.
Qi pulsed beneath the surface of Mei Chen's skin, flowing through meridians in steady streams. The energy felt wrong somehow—too cold, yet too fast. Mei Chen's chest rose and fell in tiny movements, each breath barely visible. The air stirred so slightly that a flame wouldn't have flickered.
But no matter how long Xiulan pressed her fingers against the critical points, she detected no pulse. Mei Chen's heart remained still and silent in her chest.
Yet she lived. Somehow, impossibly, she continued to exist in this strange state between life and death.
Xiulan traced her fingers along Mei Chen's arm, noting the softness of her skin—no sign of rigor mortis or decay. The hundreds of status effects and spiritual ailments she remembered from Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles offered no explanation for this condition. Nothing she remembered from the game's extensive lore matched the situation.
The game didn't allow you to be attacked while using a Meridian Opening Pill. Heck, the 'mortal' characters taking them only existed as a spreadsheet of numbers until after the process was complete! The game world didn't even affect them…
Xiulan released Mei Chen's wrist and straightened her spine.
The need for an expert gnawed, but the aftermath of the massacre had consumed every moment. Even if the manor housed such specialists, which it didn't, the constant stream of officials and mourners would have prevented any meaningful consultation.
But now…
The formal funeral proceedings would finally conclude.
A sharp knock echoed through the cold room.
"Enter," Xiulan called.
Doctor Jin Wei stepped inside. The temperature shift made him shiver as he offered a deep bow. "Miss Lin."
"Have you discovered anything?" Xiulan watched his face for any hint of hope.
"My deepest apologies." Jin Wei shook his head. "This condition lies far beyond my expertise. I have no knowledge of immortal ailments. From a mortal perspective, I would say a spirit possesses her body—moving it despite the absence of a heartbeat."
"The room grows colder each day." Xiulan gestured to the frost forming on the window frame.
"The phenomenon must relate to her Qi." Jin Wei studied Mei Chen's still form. "Without proper understanding, I fear her condition could deteriorate further."
"I lack the necessary expertise to help her." Xiulan clenched her fists.
"Perhaps Blackmere City holds someone with the knowledge we seek." Jin Wei straightened his robes. "If not, the ducal capital of Aeris might provide answers."
"Yes." Xiulan nodded. "I'll travel to our family manor in the city. Further if needed."
Jin Wei adjusted his sleeves. "Travel poses significant risks, Miss Lin. The roads hold many who would harm you, especially given recent events."
He produced a lacquered box from his robes and placed it on the low table. The lid creaked open to reveal twelve perfectly formed pills nestled in silk. "These may not match cultivator medicine in potency, but they should aid recovery when needed. Your immortal constitution should minimize any toxic effects and allow unlimited use."
Xiulan leaned forward to examine the pills. Half shimmered with a deep blue sheen, while the others maintained a rich brown color. "What's the difference?"
"The blue ones contain a higher dosage—potentially lethal to mortals. The brown are safe for anyone." Jin Wei straightened. "I cannot guarantee enhanced effects for the blue, but they be more potent. I can't be sure without testing—I've never worked with someone on the path before."
"Thank you." Xiulan touched the smooth surface of a brown pill. "For everything. Without your care after the carriage accident, I likely wouldn't have survived the fall from the cliff. Or all the other times…"
"I merely performed my duty." Jin Wei bowed deeply. "Your recovery brings me satisfaction, despite the dark cloud recent events have cast over us all."
A sharp pain shot through Xiulan's chest. "Yes, everything has been... unfortunate. I hope circumstances improve."
Jin Wei departed just as Lan Zhao entered with a tea service, missing the offered refreshment. Steam rose in a cloud from the porcelain pot as Lan Zhao arranged the cups with practiced efficiency.
Xiulan poured herself a cup, letting the fragrant steam wash over her face. The empty room pressed in around her as she sat beside Mei Chen's still form.
Recent events had solved nothing. Some things had gotten worse.
There was blood on her hands that could never be washed away, no matter how justified it had been.
Chapter 25: Regretful Stream
Spring air whipped through the training grounds as Xiulan adjusted her grip on the horse's reins. The dappled mare shifted beneath her, muscles tensing. Balancing required precise control of her newfound strength—too much pressure from her thighs would crush the poor beast.
"More speed, Miss Lin! Keep your back straight!" Instructor Han's voice cut through the morning air.
"On it!" Xiulan leaned forward and gave the reins a gentle snap. The mare responded instantly, hooves thundering against the packed earth as they accelerated around the pen's perimeter.
"Now halt!"
Xiulan pulled back smoothly. The mare slowed to a trot before stopping at the pen's center, snorting softly.
"A natural talent for horsemanship, Miss Lin." Instructor Han nodded approvingly.
"Thank you." Xiulan patted the mare's neck. "Should we venture outside?"
Instructor Han studied them for a moment before striding to the gate. The wooden barrier creaked open, and Xiulan guided her mount through.
The connection between rider and horse felt oddly natural, though Xiulan couldn't determine if her cultivator abilities enhanced the bond. Her memories provided no reference—Li Mei had only seen horses in pictures and videos, while the original Xiulan remained confined to carriages.
Freedom tasted sweeter from horseback. Her black martial dress split perfectly along hidden seams, the dark fabric stark against the mare's light coat.
Instructor Han appeared at her side, taking hold of the lead rein. They proceeded through the manor's western sector, circling the military grounds where soldiers snapped to attention, saluting as they passed.
"I need to visit the Lord's Pavilion." Xiulan patted the mare's neck. "We can head to the pavilion, then you can return her to the stables."
"Of course, Miss Lin." Instructor Han adjusted his grip on the lead rein.
They steered away from the military grounds toward Lord Lin's former residence. The spring breeze carried whispers and shuffling feet as merchants and officials scattered from their path.
Xiulan's qi rippled through her meridians, disrupted by their obvious avoidance. She drew a steadying breath, focusing inward to smooth the energy flow coursing through her body. She still hadn't mastered making such things completely reflexive, and her roiling emotions made the process much more difficult.
The rising pavilion emerged ahead, its curved roof stretching toward the sky. Xiulan swung down from the saddle, boots landing softly on the packed earth.
"Thank you for the lesson." She straightened her martial dress. "Remember, we depart for Blackmere tomorrow. The men should be prepared."
"They will be ready, Miss Lin." Instructor Han saluted crisply before leading the mare back toward the stables.
The gate guards snapped to attention as Xiulan approached. She passed through the entrance—a boundary that once marked forbidden territory now opened freely before her. The courtyard opened wide, decorated with carefully arranged stone paths and flowering shrubs.
"Miss Lin." An elderly servant bowed low. "How may I assist you?"
"I wish to see my mother."
"This way, please." The servant guided her to a sheltered gazebo where a tea service awaited. "She will join you shortly."
The gentle rustle of silk announced Zhao Lian's arrival. Xiulan stood and bowed deeply. The familiar scent of jasmine wafted through the air as Lian approached.
"Mother." Xiulan straightened from her bow.
"Sit with me, daughter." Lian settled onto the cushion across the table. "How are you faring?"
Xiulan sank down onto her own cushion, studying the intricate patterns on the teacups. "My heart wavers these past days. Each step feels uncertain, like walking through mist without a lantern."
A weak smile crossed Lian's face. "You chose a harsh river to navigate. The current runs swift—too late now to turn back to calmer waters."
The words struck deep. Xiulan released a pained breath. "What I did... it wasn't evil. They tried to destroy us first. Would have killed us both without hesitation."
Lian lifted her teacup, steam curling around her fingers. "And yet you feel clouded?"
"Yes." Xiulan traced the rim of her cup. "Sometimes I imagine a different path. One where we might have found peace. Zhang Wei..." She swallowed hard.
"Your actions carried meaning." Lian set down her cup with precise grace. "Stay firm in your resolve. Remember what drove you to fight—what you sought to protect. Hold fast to those treasures in your heart. That is a woman's strength before all else."
Xiulan lifted the porcelain cup to her lips. The jasmine tea spread warmth through her chest, its subtle floral notes dancing across her tongue.
Lian released a measured breath. "The rumors build outside our walls. They spread through the province like autumn leaves in the wind—yet things might turn to our favor."
"What do you mean?" Xiulan set her cup down with practiced grace.
"House Chao posted bounties across the region." Lian traced the rim of her cup. "They seek a 'ruthless cultivator' who massacred the hall over some unnamed grudge. Your name remains absent from their proclamations. The deception shields us, for now."
"Have there been any other developments?" Xiulan straightened her spine, qi flowing steadier through her meridians.
"Your grandfather agreed to send aid from Aeris." A ghost of a smile crossed Lian's face. "He dispatches your Cousin Min to assist us. He's a martial expert, though not an immortal."
Xiulan blinked. "Cousin Min? I don't recall meeting anyone on your mother's side of the family."
"They never ventured to our humble Blackmere." Lian shook her head. "And your father avoided the provincial capital's celebrations. Such gatherings held little appeal for him."
"I hope they can help," Xiulan said. "Managing the manor will require more hands while I'm away. He's coming as an official investigator for the prefect?"
Lian nodded. "You know that your great grandfather holds the ducal title, and his son and my uncle is the provincial prefect. Your cousin will come to sort matters and discuss the replacement for the county magistrate position. Zhang Wei is too young for the position."
Xiulan frowned. "I won't be able to teach him. I'll have to be away too often."
"I'm not so decrepit that I can't guide another child." Lian poured more tea with practiced grace. "Zhang Wei shows both promise and talent."
Xiulan traced the rim of her cup. "I plan to leave tomorrow with Instructor Han and Mei Chen. We need answers about her condition in Blackmere."
"I have several official documents for you to carry to the city magistrate." Lian withdrew a small sealed scroll from her sleeve. "The edicts require someone of rank to announce them. That duty falls to you now."
"I'll handle it." Xiulan accepted the scroll, making sure the metal binding was bronze and not gold. Not that she didn't trust her mother. It was just a mistake she'd never make again. Ever.
"House Chao will cause more trouble." Lian set her cup down with precise movements. "Their current silence merely indicates confusion, not surrender."
"Their county is nearly a province away," Xiulan said. "The distance provides some buffer."
"Distance only delays their response." Lian's fingers tightened around her cup. "Losing the stream of wealth from our family so suddenly will strike like a slap to the face."
Xiulan clenched her fist. "They never deserved that income."
"Obviously." Lian released a measured sigh. "But facts won't soften the blow. I'm recruiting more soldiers with our recovered funds. Their retaliation could prove harsh."
"Invasion?" Xiulan frowned. "Provincial law—"
"They can't justify annexation or invasion." Lian cut in sharply. "But raids? Kidnapping Zhang Wei to seize control? Such schemes might succeed without proper preparation."
Xiulan exhaled slowly. "Regardless of what they believe on the massacre, the rumors about a cultivator in the Lin family will make them cautious. They'll likely seek something to balance that."
"It's worse than that. The Chao family reportedly sent someone to the Whispering Shadows Sect in their last generation." Lian's brow furrowed. "They likely maintain that connection."
Anxiety coiled in Xiulan's stomach. She leaned back and set her tea down, the porcelain clicking against wood.
The four major schools and sects in Arinthia flickered through her mind like a well-rehearsed strategy game.
The schools, formal institutions of learning, each offered distinct advantages. Skyward Institute's mastery of Qi Control and Air Manipulation, Earth's Embrace Academy's focus on physical strength, Flameheart Sanctum's fire affinity and alchemical prowess, and Aqua Seraph Academy's water manipulation and healing arts.
These were places where young cultivators went to learn the foundations of their arts, typically spending years in structured education. Independents flocked to them and formed loosely bound alliances that sprawled across the entire kingdom.
But the sects were different beasts entirely.
While schools taught, sects lived their philosophies. The Celestial Lotus Sect with their pursuit of enlightenment, the Iron Fist Sect's dedication to martial supremacy, the secretive Whispering Shadows Sect, and the fearsome Ember Dream Sect—they were not mere places of learning but lifelong commitments to a way of cultivation.
Aligning with any of them would bolster a family's standing, but it would mean pledging loyalty to their cause.
Her gaze drifted to the scroll in her hand. Lord Lin's actions began to make a twisted kind of sense.
Offending Zhang's family, with their ties to the Whispering Shadows Sect, would have been disastrous. Xiulan's eyes narrowed. Why had he let them sink their claws into the family in the first place?
She let out a sigh. The Whispering Shadows Sect posed the gravest threat. Their expertise in stealth, assassination, and espionage meant Zhang Wei's safety hung by a thread. It would be difficult to protect him. Whether from assassination or kidnapping.
She couldn't always be by his side. Even if she tried, it would weaken her ability to confront larger threats. She had crossed into a new realm of power, but maintaining that power required continuous cultivation.
Stagnation invited predation.
She'd learned that well, in her first attempts to form her own settlement in the game. It wasn't until she had built up several characters to a pinnacle of power and used them to shepherd her lower level ones that she had actually made progress on her long-term goals to build her own settlement in a hidden valley.
Xiulan stared into her teacup, thoughts churning.
The kingdom's guardian spiritual deities might enforce boundaries between mortal and Wulin communities, but those lines blurred easily near the roots.
A sect could dispatch a dozen body refinement disciples without drawing notice. The real question was Chao's connection to Whispering Shadows. One family member might prove manageable, but deeper ties...
"Xiulan?" Lian tapped the table. "Are you well?"
"Things feel complicated." Xiulan released a tense breath. "Just thinking through possibilities."
Lian drained the last drops from her cup and set it down with a soft clink. "Visit Zhang Wei while you're here. He needs his sister. The brightness has left his eyes these past days."
"Of course." Xiulan nodded.
"I'll send updates when possible." Lian straightened the teapot. "Consider purchasing messenger birds in Blackmere. The Treasure Pavilion should accommodate someone with your... connection."
"You knew about that?" Xiulan's eyes widened.
"A cart full of cultivation goods arrived at our door." Lian's lips curved upward. "I'm not blind. Though I still wonder how you established such a relationship."
"Fate." Xiulan offered a weak smile.
She stood and wrapped her arms around her mother. "I'll find Zhang Wei now. Try to lift his spirits." Lian squeezed Xiulan tight before releasing her.
Xiulan stepped away and headed toward the main building. She looked to a servant for guidance.
"Young Master Wei takes his writing lessons in the east wing," the servant said, bowing deeply.
The indicated room sat empty, scrolls scattered across the low table. Fresh ink stained the bamboo brush holder. Xiulan traced the still-damp characters on an abandoned practice sheet. The strokes showed promise but lacked confidence.
Spring sunlight filtered through the corridors as Xiulan searched. She checked the kitchens, the living areas, and even the storerooms. Each location yielded nothing but worried servants and guards.
A flash of movement caught her attention near the back gardens. Through gaps in the ornamental fence, she spotted Zhang Wei huddled beside a fishpond. He clutched his knees to his chest, staring at the rippling water where koi fish darted beneath lily pads.
Xiulan crept forward across the moss-covered stones. In one swift motion, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind.
"Sister Xiulan!" Zhang Wei yelped, jumping beneath her embrace.
"Thinking about catching dinner?" Xiulan chuckled softly.
Zhang Wei opened his mouth to respond, but deflated instead. His gaze drifted back to the pond, where golden scales flickered beneath the surface.
Xiulan held him close but remained silent, letting him process his thoughts. The spring breeze rustled through bamboo leaves overhead.
"Why did you kill them?" His small voice cracked.
The question hit like a physical blow.
Xiulan tightened her arms around him as he gripped her sleeve. He leaned back against her chest, trembling slightly.
"They..." Xiulan swallowed hard, searching for the right words. "They tried to kill me. They tried to kill Mei Chen. They wouldn't have stopped until they succeeded."
"Even Father and Suyin?"