The Third Cut - Chapter 31 preview (Patreon)

By the time Tou He returned, Wu Ying had managed to extract himself from the roots holding him down. He had just begun to walk towards the clearing when his friend returned, looking exhausted and sodden but gratified at the same time.

“Your opponent?” Wu Ying asked.

“Will not be bothering us further.”

The wind cultivator frowned, cocking his head to the side. The wind spoke of mud and earth, dried ground and a still struggling demon. Talismans stood around the demon, draining it of power and reinforcing the earth, such that the demon’s greater strength could not be utilized. The wind also spoke of a bird feasting on the remnants of a wily opponent three li to the east.

“Very well,” Wu Ying said. If his friend wanted to avoid killing again at this moment, he would not gainsay his friend. It might be a concern in the future though, if he kept to that belief. After all, theirs was not a kind world and a cultivator – a martial cultivator in particular – who chose not to kill was a danger on the field. At the very least, Wu Ying would want to know of his friend’s decision before they took to the field of battle. “Shall we find our companions then?”

Tou He nodded. He took a couple of steps, then paused. “Umm, which way?”

“I thought you knew,” Wu Ying said.

“How would I know?” Tou He said, exasperated. “You’re the scout with the wind and all that.”

“Yeah, but they have formations hiding them. Aren’t you the one who pays attention to all the details of the plans.”

“And you don’t anymore?”

Wu Ying shrugged. “I’ve not really worked in teams much recently. And if I did, they worked to my needs, not theirs. Or worst, I just let the wind let me know where they are.”

“Really?” Tou He sighed. “You’ve gotten lazy.”

“Or more efficient.” The wind cultivator cocked his head to the side, listening to the wind and sighed. “I could try to find them but I’m dangerously low on chi. I need to spend some time refining more soon.”

“What, all your usual methods of restoring energy not sufficient?” Tou He said, smirking. “Where’s the continually energized cultivator who cultivates even when he sleeps?” Touching his ring, which Wu Ying noted was made of a red crystal of some form, the fire cultivator extracted a pill bottle. He swallowed another pill from it, the opening of the bottle releasing a fragrant and spicy tinge to the air before he recapped it.

“Not offering me anything?” Wu Ying said, grumpily. Not that he didn’t have a few pills of his own, but none of them geared towards a wind cultivator and their needs. Unlike Tou He it seemed, whose pill even before he asked, Wu Ying could tell was meant for a fire cultivator.

“Not unless you want heartburn.”

Giving in and copying his friend, Wu Ying swallowed a pill too. He felt the large marble sized pill enter his stomach and begin breaking apart, even as the acrid and bitter taste lingered in his mouth and threatened to burp upwards through his mouth.

“I’ll pass. Thanks.” Focusing on the growing chi, Wu Ying set himself to the task of breaking down the energy, utilizing his older techniques to do so. Even now, the Never Empty Wine Pot method was not working, the winds co-opted to continue wrecking the ruined ancient city. He felt a little guilty about that, since the destruction was entirely accidental. “Any suggestions?”

“We could ask the bird.” Tou He inclined his head to the side, where at some point, Sao Choi had returned and was perched on a branch high above the pair.

Wu Ying started, eyes narrowing. Damn beast. He hadn’t even sensed it arriving. As though noticing his regard and thoughts, the raptor opened its mouth and let out a short, sharp call. Then, flapping its wings once, it flew a short distance away, stopping on a tree to look back at the pair.

If a bird could mock, Wu Ying was sure this one was.

***

One moment they were passing through regular jungle filled with hanging branches, sleeping snakes and heavy vines amidst the omnipresent buzzing of insects eyeing the silent gaze of the Nascent Soul raptor above. The next, noise deadened and the quintet of cultivators appeared, scholar still seated upon her brazier even if it no longer floated.

“Oh, very good concealment formation,” Tou He said, head turning from side-to-side as he took in the dome of earth that been formed with only a single approach available. Outside of the dome, vegetation had crept on top of the loosened earth, mixing with the enchantments woven into the earth to deaden their spiritual marks.

“It really is… oof!” Wu Ying let out a grunt, as Yang Mu threw herself at him into a tight hug. She nearly bore him over, holding him tight before she suddenly released the hug.

“Sorry…” Still, her hands had not left his own body and trailed down his arms as she did so, going so far as to grip both hands. That brought a startled cry of pain from Wu Ying, causing the wood cultivator to release them before snatching the injured arm again a moment later, causing another grunt of pain to escape. “What happened?”

Wu Ying could not tell if she was outraged at him for getting injured or for the fact that he was injured. Perhaps a little of both, since the way she stared at him had him wincing. “Just a little accident.”

“Accident?” She lifted the cooked and charred hand, staring at the burn on the other side and the way Wu Ying’s fingers were trembling a little. “What kind of accident involved you getting burnt to a crisp like this?”

Then, turning to look at Tou He, she narrowed her eyes as she noted the bruising along one side of his face. She put two and two together swiftly. “You fought him? I thought you were going to convince him to calm down.”

“I did. A real man learns to speak with his fist!” Wu Ying puffed his chest out as he spoke, only to deflate as Yang Mu smacked it with the edge of her fan, the weapon and tool surprisingly heavy. He coughed, rubbing at what he swore would likely bruise, even as he noted that she never let go of his injured hand.

“You idiot. It’s not time to boast.”

“I wasn’t…” Eyeing the fan that she raised, he chuckled. “Sorry. I deserved that.”

“You did,” Tou He said, a small smile on his lips as he watched the two, his gaze resting on their joined hands.

Wu Ying did not blush. He was no teenager worried about showing his feelings. More importantly, he noted that Yang Mu was no longer looking at him anyway or his antics, her focus on his injured arm. Even his increased healing factor as a cultivator and Body Cultivator had not covered it yet, leaving the crisped skin, the significant number of boils and the exposed, multiple layers of skin.

“Did you wash this?” Wu Ying shook his head. “Why isn’t this at least wrapped?” She hissed. “Did you even bother to take care of it?”

“Not, exactly. We were in a little bit of a hurry to get out because we had company,” Wu Ying said.

“We know,” she muttered as she continued to inspect his hand closely. “Colonel Huynh sent his spirit beast to aid you when we realised that you were being chased. Seems like she’s able to watch things through Sao Choi’s eyes.”

“Interesting.”

“Yes.” She tugged on his arm, bringing him over to where a makeshift stone table had been created and a teaset had been extracted. A pointed look at Minh Trac and Thien Gang sent the formation master and fighter off their seats. When Minh Trac moved to take the hot water kettle, she spoke firmly. “Leave it.”

The formation master let out a long sigh, but did as she asked.

“Can you fight, boy?” Bich Trang asked, walking over to the pair when they were seated.

Wu Ying hissed as Yang Mu poured the near boiling water on his hand, a brush appearing in her hand as she scoured his skin. If he was not a Body Cultivator, he would have been burnt. But knowing that he was, the heat was no more than hot oil poured on sensitive skin.

“It’s not my sword hand,” Wu Ying panted out, when he managed to gain control of his senses once more. He willed himself to accept the pain as she finished debrading his hand, removing the scattered pieces of dirt, a twig and burnt skin. In doing so, she had burst a couple of the boils which caused her to click her tongue. At the same time, Yang Mu stared at the damaged skin, some of which was still hanging on and the exposed muscle and tendons beneath.

“Can you still flex that hand?” Yang Mu demanded.

“With effort,” Wu Ying said. He proceeded to show her, opening and shutting his hand, his fingers trembling a little at the end when he was done.

“Well, you have the night. We’ll stay hidden for the evening, wait for our pursuers to give up and start again the next morning.”

Wu Ying whispered a quiet acknowledgement to the Colonel before turning his head to take in the rest of the group. Having been removed from their table, both Minh Trac and Thien Gang had unrolled their bedrolls and taken a corner of the dome to sleep within, while Tou He was propped up against one corner, his staff resting on his shoulder as he meditated and worked through the cultivation pill he had swallowed. Already, Wu Ying could sense that the fires that burned within his friend had strengthened, the chi within his body refilling at a prodigious rate.

“Stop moving, you idiot,” Yang Mu muttered. Placing his hand on the table, she proceeded to extract a mortar and pestle and a series of pills, roots and leaves. “We’re going to have to put a paste on that to keep it moist and speed up your healing.” She pondered. “If we have a day, perhaps we can have you rest in one of your medicinal baths. It should speed your healing.”

“And hurt more.” Wu Ying pointed out.

“Says the man who plunged his hand into fire.” She waved at his body. “I don’t have enough paste for all of you, so having you refresh your body in the medicinal bath is the best we can do.”

“There’s not much space here,” Wu Ying continued to protest.

Rather than answer him, she looked around till she caught sight of Dinh Don who, unlike the others, had already fallen asleep. Somehow, even asleep, he seemed to blend right into the earth that he slept upon, such that Wu Ying had missed his presence entirely.

“Wait here.” Standing up, she stalked over to the sleeping scout to harangue him into building Wu Ying an earthen bath. While she did that, Wu Ying eyed Bich Trang who continued to hover closeby. Gesturing to the now free seat, Wu Ying waited for the soldier to sit.

“You wanted to know something.”

She nodded. “Your friend and yourself. Are you two typical of your sect?”

“In what way?” Wu Ying said, brow furrowed in honest confusion. “The Verdant Green Waters is a large sect. Typical is a hard word to use.”

“Ah. My apologies, I will try to be a little clearer.” Bich Trang hesitated, and then glancing over to Tou He and then Yang Mu who still attempting to get Dinh Don to do her bidding, continued. “You are both exceptional martial cultivators, with rare elemental versions. I am wondering if that is usual.”

“Not at all,” Wu Ying replied, immediately. “Martial cultivators are only a small number of our members. Just like the army is but a small number in your kingdom.” Then, offering a half-smile that was falsely modest, he added. “Anyway, you are wrong.”

“Wrong?” she repeated, puzzled.

“I’m not a martial cultivator. I’m a Wild Gatherer.” He touched the blade on the other side of his hip with his uninjured hand, before placing it on the table. “I just have some small talent with the sword.”

“Small talent.” A snort of disbelief.

“Oh yes. My Master, you might have heard of him. He was a true Master of the blade.”

“I have not heard this story.”

“Master Cheng ???, the Sundering Blade.” Wu Ying shook his head. “He was a true Master, and a martial cultivator, unlike me.”

“Your Master was the Sundering Blade?” Bich Trang worked her jaw, eyeing Wu Ying anew now with more caution. “The tales of his near heretical dao has reached even us. Along with his martial style.” A hesitation, a pause, then he added. “Your martial style, is it similar?”

“Some aspects,” Wu Ying said. “I do not claim to be near as talented as he is; but I have derived portions of it from his form and my family’s form.”

“The Long family style, you said?” Bich Trang said, clearly recalling what Wu Ying had mentioned in the past.

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” The colonel bit her lip, then shook her head, sending the bob cut of her hair style flowing behind her. “So, the Verdant Green Water is filled with heroes.”

The wind cultivator shrugged “We are but what we have to be, to stand against Dark Sects and encroaching kingdoms.”

“Humble…” Bich Trang nodded and stood up, bidding him a good night.

A short while later, when Wu Ying had managed to pour himself a cup of tepid, overbrewed tea without jostling his arm, Yang Mu returned. She began the process of sorting his arm out, even as Wu Ying sensed the heating stones she had tossed into the newly created bath heating the water slowly.

“What was that about?” Yang Mu murmured softly, weaving a simple chi formation with her aura to block eavesdropping.

“Just someone attempting to learn more about the sect and the kingdoms above.”

“Ah… information gathering.”

Wu Ying nodded, watching as she expertly combined roots and herbs, grinding them in the mortar to form a wet poultice. She threw in some flower petals as well and then, pills as she worked, her brow furrowed in concentration. He just watched, noting the way a stray lock fell across her brow that she would swipe at ineffectively but utterly oconcentrated on the tendrils of wood chi that she wove into the poultice.

When she was done, she looked up to catch him watching her, blushing deeply. “What?”

“Just thinking that being a Wood cultivator must make such things easier,” Wu Ying said.

“Making poultices and being a physician?” Yang Mu chuckled darkly. “My mother always said I should concentrate on that. Made me learn all the various methods, partly to sell better but also because she wanted me to be all that I could be.

“And then, of course, she punished me when I chose to study formations instead of more boring physician works.”

“But you still learnt something, right?” Wu Ying eyed the poultice she was applying to the bandage before raising the dark-green mixture to press upon his hand. He did not move away from her actions, even though she had not answered him.

“Of course. At least enough to deal with something as simple as a burn.” Yang Mu’s movements hesitated a little before she continued winding the bandage around his hand, drawing a little hiss from him as she kept moving. “And this is mostly a burn. No dao conceptions in it to block healing, no lingering heat or flame. The cleanest martial burn I’ve ever come across in fact.”

“Purifying flame,” Wu Ying said. “Though it seems Tou He might have drawn some of it back just before I struck him.”

“Good,” Yang Mu said, mildly mollified. She finished up with the cleaning and bandages, the compress tightened over his arm. She pointed to the medicinal bath next, her face still stern. “I don’t have your herbs, but I’m sure you can do what you need to.”

“I can.” He stood and bowed to her a little, offering thanks. Even as he turned away, he noted that she was not done with her mortar and pestle, instead being in the process of washing everything down. It seemed she intended to make another compress, with different properties from the array of different herbs she had set out.

Slipping into the medicinal bath after adding the necessary herbs to it was a pain. His skin, crispy at the least damaged parts, overly sensitive and burnt in much of his left side flared with pain as he slipped within. The astringent herbs and scouring chi within the bath took effect almost immediately, stripping damaged skin and releasing fluids. Old scabs and wounds reopened anew, the fluids and caustic energy entering his body ever faster.

Wu Ying hissed, his breathing coming in short, sharp breaths for a time. For long minutes, he struggled to control his breathing and the energy before he was able to regain control of his senses. Idly, he noted that the Never Empty Wine Pot method had reintroduced itself to his ongoing techniques, wind energy reentering his body and churning through his meridians. Already, he was pulling wind chi and embedding his dao in it before condensing the energy further in his dantian, a portion of that energy entering his empty core whilst the rest seeped into his body.

Once he established the flow of chi that was necessary through his meridians and his body to handle the caustic, dissolution chi that sought to destroy his body and the reinforcing nutrients that would bolster him, Wu Ying sought to turn his mind to the winds and the moments of enlightenment he had experienced.

Perhaps enlightenment was not the right word, for he had no stream of Heavenly energy, no benediction from above or below. Yet, facing the corruption of the heart, the purifying fire of Tou He and the whispered, twisted winds; Wu Ying found himself coming ever closer to understanding. Not of the corruption and the twisted demonic realm, but of the Heavens, their decrees, their requirements and their unflinching resolve.

Turning those thoughts over and over, weighing the experiences and finding within them, aspect that he could imbue within his own body; he sought understanding as he took another step closer to becoming one with the winds.