The strongest cultivator is not the one who can take the most, but the one who knows precisely how much force to apply. Like a master physician administering medicine, your response to corruption should be carefully measured—enough to cure the disease without killing the patient.
—Master Bai Yue, Hand of Mortal Healing
Xiulan stared at Feng Yu, then shifted her gaze to the bell-shaped collection device. The contraption gleamed in the late morning light, its polished surface reflecting the rocky landscape.
They had brought the wagon with them—along with a group of six men plus their drivers—up into the mountain as far as the path allowed. The journey ended at a played-out gold mine, still within sight of the city.
The open ground provided a clear view of the dozens of small groups and solo miners combing the rock fields for loose valuables. Most of them worked their way higher up the mountain, driven by desperation. Their worn clothes and haggard faces spoke of long days spent searching for small lost pebbles that might offer days or weeks of succor.
Xiulan watched the hired laborers strain under the weight of the bronze bell. Their muscles bulged as they maneuvered it onto solid ground with grunts of effort.
Four taels well spent , she thought, even though she and Feng Yu possessed enough cultivation strength to move it themselves. The security of having eight men escort the empty wagon back to the city outweighed the minor expense.
Leaving with the bell and not the wagon would have been more suspicious, although she wasn’t exactly clear on who was being suspicious of them. They’d certainly been watched by the light blue robe and white sashed guards in the city and while leaving, but she hadn’t seen anyone else paying them extra mind.
But Feng Yu had said it was a good idea, and she was predisposed to listening to the other woman on these things. She had way more experience traveling and living in the world.
A leather harness sailed through the air toward Xiulan’s face. She caught it reflexively, staring at the intricate webbing of straps and metal buckles.
"What?"
"You’ll need one too—just in case you have to carry the bell," Feng Yu said. She pulled two more harnesses from the cart and stuffed them into their oversized travel pack. "These are single use only, and we’ve got just two spares."
Xiulan examined the harness, methodically fastening the various buckles around her torso. The design sparked a memory from Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles —players used identical gear to transport heavy items. But the game had always faded to black during the actual lifting sequence...
Feng Yu turned to look down the path and froze, eyes fixed on the abandoned mine entrance. The weathered timber supports cast long shadows across the rocky ground.
"Is something the matter?" Xiulan asked.
"We’re being watched," Feng Yu said, her gaze fixed.
Xiulan’s muscles tensed. "By who?"
"Not sure." Feng Yu shifted her stance. "But whoever they are, I don’t sense any overwhelming strength from them."
Xiulan closed her eyes and reached out with her qi sense. Another skill she needed to master properly. At close range, her qi detection worked perfectly—she could track individual meridian flows and pinpoint energy concentrations within arms’ reach.
But Feng Yu operated on a completely different level, detecting things long before they became immediate dangers. And the only advice given was a frustrating ’practice more,’ which wasn’t super useful!
The background qi pulsed steadily around them, denser than usual due to the mineral-rich mountains. Beyond that... nothing. No distinct signatures or unusual patterns caught her attention. Maybe the elevated ambient energy was making it harder?
What am I missing that she can detect so easily?
Feng Yu exhaled sharply. "Well, let’s just see what comes out."
Xiulan watched as Feng Yu backed up to the bronze bell and dropped into a perfect squat. A quick tug on a cord at her shoulder transformed the simple harness into something else entirely. Leather straps shot outward like striking snakes, wrapping around the massive collection device in fluid motions. The bindings cinched tight with a series of sharp clicks, securing the bell firmly against Feng Yu’s back.
Feng Yu straightened, lifting the massive weight as if it weighed nothing. Xiulan focused on the qi flows rippling through the ground beneath Feng Yu’s feet. The energy pulsed subtly—not a massive drain, but definitely active qi at work maintaining her balance.
"Here they come." Feng Yu nodded toward the abandoned mine entrance.
Three figures emerged from the shadowed tunnel. Two wore plain green robes with blue sashes, steel swords hanging at their sides. Their leader strutted ahead in more elaborate garments trimmed with gold thread, a heavy cudgel thrust through his waist sash.
"Earth’s Embrace Academy." Feng Yu’s words carried a note of recognition.
A sharp whistle cut through the air as Feng Yu stepped forward and slashed. The force of her strike created visible ripples in the air between them. "You’re wasting our time. Run or fight."
Xiulan backed away from the confrontation, giving Feng Yu space to maneuver despite the bell’s bulk.
Duan Wuji released a guttural growl and charged forward like an enraged bull, his cudgel raised high.
Xiulan held her breath as Duan Wuji skid to a halt, his charge a fake out as he switched directions to circle Feng Yu. The bronze bell restricted her friend’s movement, forcing precise, economical steps. Each pivot looked calculated, deliberate.
Duan Wuji darted in from the side, mace whistling through the air while his buckler stayed centered, protecting his core. Feng Yu’s saber flashed in response—a storm of steel despite her encumbrance. The weapons clashed in a series of clangs and clinks that echoed off the rocky ground.
The Earth’s Embrace cultivator retreated, reassessing. His footwork showed practiced discipline as he maintained distance. A sharp stomp sent qi coursing through the ground. Rock cracked and split, a fissure racing toward Feng Yu’s position.
Feng Yu’s saber struck downward in a horizontal arc. The blade ignited with crimson energy, carving a glowing line that intercepted the approaching fault line. Fire erupted from the intersection, forcing Duan Wuji back another step.
"Damned fire cultivator!" His mace struck downward in a vicious arc, qi-enhanced strength shattering the ground. Rock chunks flew toward Feng Yu in a deadly barrage.
Multiple slashes carved burning paths through the air. Waves of super-heated qi reduced the projectiles to ash. The red mist continued onward, forcing Duan Wuji to leap aside. His green robes fluttered as he landed and tensed for another assault.
"Stop!" Xiulan’s shout cut through the tension.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward her. She pointed at Duan Wuji’s sleeve. Embers still smoldered on the fabric.
"The duel was to first hit. You’ve already lost."
Xiulan tensed as Duan Wuji’s companions drew their swords. Qi surged through their meridians—the telltale sign of imminent attack. Three against two, and Feng Yu’s movement is limited by that bell.
She raised both hands skyward, channeling opposing qi streams through her meridians. The energy crackled between her palms before she released a controlled burst upward. Thunder boomed across the mountainside, echoing off the rocky slopes. The sound echoed like a warning drum.
Duan Wuji’s team froze mid-step, weapons still raised. Their eyes darted between Xiulan and the dissipating energy above.
"Parlor tricks won’t save you." Duan Wuji sneered, adjusting his grip on the cudgel. "We aren’t afraid of some sound."
"Xiulan don’t kill th—" Feng Yu started.
Xiulan shifted her stance and aimed both palms at the trio. Qi rushed through her meridians as she carefully modulated the flow—hopefully enough to teach a lesson without causing permanent damage. The energy streams collided between her hands, releasing a Thunder God Claps for Arrogant Young Masters .
The blast caught all three cultivators. They lifted off the ground, arms and legs flailing as they sailed backward through the air. They crashed into the gravelly dirt several a dozen feet away, weapons scattering.
"Hey, you’ve learned some control." Feng Yu nodded approvingly.
"Thanks to your help with practicing." Xiulan grinned at her.
Duan Wuji staggered to his feet, dust falling from his once-pristine robes. "Even if you can do that special move, you can’t possibly maintain it more than—"
Xiulan brought her palms together. The qi streams collided with precise control, sending another thunderclap through the morning air. Though weakened by distance, the blast still caught Duan Wuji square in the chest. He stumbled backward, boots scraping against loose rocks as he fought to maintain balance.
"I’m not even trying." Xiulan channeled more qi between her hands, creating visible distortions in the air. "Want to see if you three can survive a trip back to the city? Over the wall? Test out how the defensive talismans work?"
Maybe that’s pushing it a bit far , she thought. But the threat had the desired effect—blood drained from Duan Wuji’s face, leaving him pale as morning frost.
"Now then." Xiulan lowered her hands and smiled sweetly. "Since you never specified what I’d get when you lost the duel... I can take everything, right?"
Feng Yu leaned close, her breath tickling Xiulan’s ear as she whispered something that made Xiulan burst into laughter.
"Start stripping." Xiulan gestured at the three cultivators. "If you hurry, I’ll let you keep your underclothes."