Green Forest Pavilion

• a small forest of green buildings nestled comfortably against a small mountain, overlooking a peaceful village
• once a sect with tens of thousands of members, it is now but a shadow of itself
• the current head elder is Ma Liang (early postheaven cultivator), a kindly old man with white eyebrows and beard, and heavily scarred hands and face
• there are a dozen young cultivators working on their foundation building
• the single cultivation resource the sect has left is a spiritual spring in the mountain above
• They are subordinate to the Western Thunder Palace; a number of small Pavilions in the surrounding area is under their jurisdiction as well. In past centuries the biannual student competition was used to suck the most promising students to the Palace while weakening the Pavilions. Rebellion is inadvisable.
• there are few beasts in the surroundings, and the Pavilion regularly protects the people of the village from them, etc.

---

The snake bite was not nearly as painful as the thunderbolt that smashed him into unconsciousness.

The day began as any other. Dozens of youngsters from the village below milled about the heavily forested mountain, in search of semi-precious plants they could sell to the cultivators. It was a comparably safe way to earn a spiritual stone or two, or perhaps even a magical pill. To think that true cultivators could spare such treasures for mere grass stalks and mushrooms. Ridiculous! But it was one of the few opportunities to earn serious resources for the village kids.

One of them was a fifteen year old boy. Like most of the other youngsters in the forest, he was already rejected a few times by the cultivators as unsuitable for cultivation. A mundane life of farming and a safe arranged marriage was just a year or two away for him. Right now, with a somewhat dispirited expression in his eyes, he was on his way to harvest that Green Forked Tongue Grass from that certain secret spot. He would sell it for three or four soul stones, and bring a smile onto his mother's tired face.

The Forked Tongue Grass was still in the hollow of a maple tree, exactly where he had hidden it. He reached out with his left hand to feel around the fragile plant, almost without looking.

There was a hiss, a sudden pain, the sound of thunder, and... darkness.

It was only a week later that he regained consciousness. The surroundings were not unfamiliar - but how did he end up inside a cultivator's house in the Green Forest Pavilion? His chest hurt. An overpowering metallic smell almost made him lose consciousness again. Pain flashed from his left hand in a bright green network all over his body, converging on his heart. It shook his body almost hard enough to make him roll off the narrow bed. He lost consciousness again.

Days later, his eyes opened, slowly. A kindly old man with white eyebrows and beard was looking down at him. A compassionate glint in his eyes was offset by numerous scars on every visible part on the old man's skin.

"Feeling better yet?"

Turning his head to face the older man hurt. "Everything. On fire." He managed to answer through his teeth. That was the shortest way to tell how he was feeling - and since he paid a price in pain for every muscle moved and every word whispered he found himself very cheap with them "...at least I can complain?" He tried to offer a weak smile at the attempt at a joke: after all pain one could complain about WAS a different order of magnitude from pain that sent you out cold.

He tried to move one hand, but that was already asking too much of his battered body. "Wh-" He almost asked 'where', but he already had an idea, and he had something much more important to know. "-when?" He had no idea just HOW LONG he had been out, just that mom was going to worry if he was late for dinner. A part of him knew that if he was here his family was already aware of it - but he wasn't exactly at his coolest, and his mind jumped from silly worry to silly worry - perhaps as a way to keep him distracted from the pain.
What happened to the Forked Tongue Grass? Did they find his secret spot to save him? He'd have to find a new one - deeper in the forest? He'd have to-

Perfectly synced to a beat of his heart, pain surged from his left hand and the world flashed green as he arched his back in a silent, choked scream. It took him what felt like eternity to resume breathing, and when he did a fit of coughs quaked him, a splatter of red, black and sickly green spit on the sheets. "...just peachy." He managed to add, voice lower and rougher from the coughing.

A trace of sympathy flashed in the old man's eyes.

"Don't worry. The pain will soon go away. It seems you've been bitten by an extraordinarily poisonous snake. It's really puzzling. We never had such poison on our mountain. Fortunately it waz only an extremely small amount, or else any help would have been too late. And then there was the lightning that struck the tree you were leaning against. I really can't explain how you got away without a single burn. It must be fate, no? The impact caught my attention, and I arrived just in time to give you an antidote. Hehe, this old man never saw a stranger scene. The lightning left a thirty pace wide crater, and pieces of burning tree were everywhere.

He stroked his beard, thoughtfully. Sounds of martial arts practice seeped into the room - clash of wooden weapons, shouts, loud stomps. It was a bright, sunny day outside.

"That was the  good news. The bad news is that you'll have to stay here with me for a while, until the poison is expelled from your body. I can't guarantee your recovery otherwise. This poison of yours iz too strange, and is attacking your meridians. Fortunately I'm here to save you.

A good-natured smile wrinkles the old man's lips. The room Zhu Wenlong was in was obviously one of the numerous disused disciple accommodations. Apart from a narrow bed, it had a fireplace, a table with two benches and a trunk. The fire was lit and being used to brew something disgusting in a large clay pot. Unsurprisingly, the bubbling malodorous broth turned out to be the antidote the old man prepared.

"Take care to drink one bowl of this every two hours. Will you be allright if I leave you alone for a bit?"

'Then I'm already in more debt than I can repay in a lifetime' Was what Wenlong tried to say. Something someone in control of himself would say, properly deferential to someone to whom a debt was owed. "- Nnrgh -" was closer to what he actually said as dizziness hit. He did manage an assenting nod, though.
He wanted to ask how long he'd have to stay there, but the old man didn't seem like the kind of person who'd willingly withhold information - but even more than that, he was absolutely terrified the answer would involve the words 'months' or 'years' instead of 'days' at most.

"Anything to read?" He asked just as the other turned to head out. He wasn't sure words would be sufficient to keep him distracted from the regular fits of pain - or even how proper it was to ask his savior for more favors already - but it was worth a try.

That taken care of, he proceeded to tackling the challenge of the day: getting to see out of the window. It was just above where he was lying, but even rising that far seemed like an impossible challenge in his weakened state. Inch by inch he managed to push himself up on his elbows, gaining a little bit of height before letting himself flop against the wall. Only by miracle he avoided slamming himself nose-first on wood, then proceeded to worm his way further up until he could rest himself against the window frame.
He had always been curious about the practice going on at the Pavillion - could this be a chance to get a peek?

The old man paused on his way out. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly.

This child has barely avoided death and is still under intense pain... and he still asks for something to read? Have I misjudged him in the past?

After a moment's thought, he pulled a thin volume from his robes and put it on the table.

"I'm afraid there is precious little to read in my pavilion other than martial arts manuals and herbalism catalogues. Perhaps you can lighten your mood with this. It is a volume on various herbs and monstrous beasts that can be found on our mountain. I'll see you in the evening, then. Don't forget your medicine."

There was a faint note of pride in the old man's voice. The book was probably written by him, but he avoided stating that outright. That was probably the reason he had it on him, too. With that the elder turned and disappeared out into the blinding sunlight. Sounds of "Good morning, Master" echoed from the outside almost immediately.

Zhu Wenlong managed to get up with less effort than he expected. It seemed as though the more he moved, the less the pain was, and after a few steps and some deep breaths only a soft throbbing pain in the center of his left palm remained.

Once at the window, he could see the practice area. It was much, much larger than was needed for the current dozen disciples. One could see how affluent the Pavilion was in the distant past - the practice area was tiled with white, green, yellow, red and black glazed bricks of the type that was practically indestructible. Even after enduring countless years, the area was still smooth as a mirror, with vibrant colours. The tiles formed footstep patterns, nine palace diagrams and depictions of wild beasts.

The dozen students faced off into pairs, practicing basic fistfighting. There were shouts, sounds of fleshy impact, the soft voice of the old man correcting mistakes.

The earthenware pot bubbled on the fire in the room, spreading a thick, nausea-inducing smell. As Zhu Wenlong spared it a glance, he could see a faint glowing dot hovering over it, as if suspended in the thin white fumes coming from the bubbling brownish fluid.

He had not asked for something to read out of any higher aspiration: he just found that wallowing in sickness made him feel worse, and hoped the same trick would work on pain: he could only count the stains on the ceiling so many times.

Did the old man leave the booklet out of his reach on purpose? He WAS curious about the content, but staying put and just people-watching for several hours sounded so much more appealing. Then he focused on the boiling pot - wasn't he supposed to be used to the smell already? Instead of growing fainter the more time he spent in the room, the smell seemed to simply subtly change - almost mocking his nose's vain attempts at growing accustomed.

Then he noticed the dot - a faint, unblinking eye hovering on the pot and staring at him, almost daring to get closer. Curiosity finally got the best of him, and with a groan he tensed all his muscles to roll on his feet; to be honest, he was nearly prepared to meet the wooden floor face-first and leave a couple of teeth embedded as souvenirs for whoever would occupy the room after him.

Instead his landing was.. remarkably light. Beneath his bare feet he could feel every vein on the warm wood - every imperfection, worn by years of use and every slit between boards. Were his feet always that sensitive? A question for another day. He dragged along the sheet to use as cover: he had no idea where his clothes were - or if they existed at all, if what the old man said about lightning was true. Taking a tentative step forward he found the pain to be more than bearable: closer to the after-effect of running too much than to having a thousand needles into every sensitive bit of your body.
Heartened by that proceeded towards the table, tentative step after tentative step.

It wasn't a long trek until he could spare a glance to the book's cover: a sketch of plants and beasts - not entirely unexpected.
Closer than he had ever been the smell from the pot proved to be almost enough to overpower his consciousness and send him out cold, sprawled across the table. Mercifully that didn't happen - not even as he took the last few step, right hand on his face to cover nose and mouth with a corner of fabric (to very little useful effect) and left outstretched to poke the mystery dot.

The booklet was densely illustrated in colored ink drawings. The old man had messy handwriting and misguided artistic aspirations. It was adequate as a pastime, however, and the contents could still teach Wenlong a thing or two, particularly the footnotes about alchemical properties of grasses and beast cores.

As Zhu Wenlong reached towards the white dot hovering above the detoxifying brew, there was a sudden flash of green. The dot of light collapsed with a barely audible sound of shattering glass. A brief aura of arrogance swept over the pot, and within a second the murky brown fluid became crystal clear water. The smell filling the room disappeared as well. His left palm throbbed a little more, then went to its usual level of pain.

This stinky, pitifully weak detoxification broth dares to spread its wings before this viper princess? Laughable! Laughable!

Faint laughter akin to tiny silver bells echoed from nowhere and everywhere, disappearing with the wind.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:37, Wed 29 Jan 2020.

"What!?" He near jumped back at the sudden voice, stumbling against and hitting the table as he frantically scanned the room. "Who's there?" No answer.
He gave the room another scan with very little success, then let himself flop and sit on the bench. He shrugged - the day had been weird enough already, and hallucinations were... not an impossible development.

"Well -" was he talking to his hallucinations now? Or just to himself? "- Thanks for the smell. And the clean water."
...because it WAS clean water, wasn't it? He noticed he was getting thirsty, but this was... strange. Did he imagine the weird concotion earlier, or was he imagining the crystal-clear water now? He scooped up a bowl of what was supposed to be antidote broth and leant down to test for smell, taking a sperimental sip if it seemed water. He vaguely remembered lessons about not drinking too much all at once in similar situations, so he let the bowl down and instead reached for the book, idly running his eyes along the words as he took occasional drinks.

He didn't feel too bad, all things considered - but the way the old man spoke of the mystery soup made it sound pretty important. Was he going to be fine?

The water tasted just right. Not too hot, with an adequate amount of cleanliness and a hint of earthy flavor. Refreshing. Rejuvenating. His senses slowly came into focus more and more. The texture of paper underneath his fingertips was glaringly obvious. The structure of the walls. The gaps in sounds of practice coming from the outside. Everything was much clearer than before. The rest of the morning was spent in a daze, immersed in the new world of sensations.

Gradually, he became aware of thin threads of white gas lazily twisting in the air. His movements made them shift and disperse like real smoke; yet they'd reform after a little while. Trying to catch one would produce only the faintest tingle on the skin of his hand.

Around noontime, the door to the hut opened. A sixteen-year old female disciple brought in some food. A bowl of rice, cooked vegetables, and green tea. Her gaze was filled with indignation as she set the plate down on the table. In her eyes, he was immeasurably far beneath her station. Like an ant, or a worm.

"Here, your food. Eat up."

Without waiting for him to answer or taking a closer look, she turned around and went out. Every bit the ice queen; then again, cultivators didn't pay attention to mortals most of the time.

The food was filling if bland and without meat.

Evening approached quickly. Zhu Wenlong had time to do something other than just staring off into infinity before sunset.

"...and a pleasure to mee-" Gone. Goodbye to you too, mysterious lady. After food Wenlong found himself with precious little to do and a lot of time to do it: he was feeling significantly better than he thought he would and was far from bedridden.

First things first: he gave one last read at the book. 'viper princess' stuck into his mind, and he'd have to be brain-dead to not connect snakes and Forked Tongue Grass. Was there anything to read on the matter in the booklet?

Then he reached for the trunk, rummaging to find a set of simple clothes. They... probably weren't the same clothes disciples wore, right? The old man wouldn't leave him something that risked him getting invited into surprise spars with cultivators, would he? Or even worse, something that would mark him as an outsider disguised to steal secrets? He heard stories about how that sort of things usually ended, and very few were pleasant. The sensation was mildly ominous.

Right. The thin threads of white smoke - he set to investigate them: touching proved to be a mostly fruitless endeavor, but did they have a smell - or a source? He felt he was making a fool of himself as he moved in circles around the hut like a dog chasing its own tail, occasionally on all fours to see if the wisps came from beneath the floor.

If all his efforts proved useless - or if they lead outside - he was ready to push past the door and explore the afternoon.

The book contained a page on the Forked Tongue Grass. The image was instantly familiar, the description of the grass noting its poisonous potential, difficult cultivation requirements, and how it tended to attract poisonous snakes. On the next page there was the drawing of a cute green snake with huge cartoon eyes and a blue hair bow on top of its head. The absurdity of the image made him pause for a moment. It seemed impossible for anyone to have dreamed up something like this. Well, perhaps something similar might appear in a nightmare. Or as a phantasm during a bout of insanity. There was something disturbing about the drawing, but it was difficult to pinpoint what. The drawing had no writing next to it, or anything else that might serve as explanation. After a while, gave up and tended to more pressing things. Like clothing.

The trunk contained sets of simple, serviceable, and quite worn clothes. Simple black pants, green shirt, broad corded belt, straw slippers. A closer look revealed a forest pattern skillfully included within the hemp cords that form the belt. Obviously, a school uniform. It fit quite well,even if the slippers were a bit annoying.

Investigating the white smoke led him outside the house. There were dozens of threads lazily swaying in the afternoon air. Up ahead, on the practice area, the twelve students were sitting in a circle, cross legged, meditating with eyes closed. Motionless apart from breathing, making no sound at all. Zhu Wenlong could clearly hear the sounds of forest, wind, the birds in the air.

Walking around the students at a comfortably slow pace and with hands behind his back was the elder. Just then, a smoke thread trembled. It was close to a tall, refined looking lad of eighteen or so years. The smoke continued trembling, then slowly snaked down towards the youngster's nostrils, as if it was being inhaled.

The student revealed a look of intense concentration. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead; his breathing became audible. The wisp of smoke trembled, as if struggling, before hesitantly entering the student's nostrils. Instantly, the student's face became bright red. Evan the skin on his hands was red. The concentration on his face contorted into struggle.

The instructor noticed what was going on, of course. "Good! Good! Feng'er, keep calm, compress that qi into your Golden Stove point. Patience and tranquility. Remember and slip through the pain." He stood behind the student, as if ready to intervene somehow.

All the other students opened their eyes and turned to stare at the red-skinned youngster. One of them had a viciously envious spark in his eyes. The spectacle went on for the duration of a stick of incense. Turing the time the student's face gradually became less red, until he finally recovered. After taking a deep breath, he stood up, faced the old man and bowed deeply. For his part, the old man looked embarrassed.

"No, no. It was all your own doing, this old man had nothing to do with it. Feng'er, you should instruct your fellow students on how you managed to condense qi into your body. You all should learn from your big brother's experiences."

The old man smiled, then looked over at Zhu Wenlong.

Wenlong froze like a rabbit surrounded by wolves. Was he even supposed to be here? The old man didn't explicitly tell him to stay put, but did he expect him to already be up and about in the first place? What was the proper way to conduct oneself in this situation?
He ran his gaze along the collected disciples, then back to the master and to the disciples again - the silence was deafening. Ah, well - if he went by how the girl - he instinctually shot a glance at the group to see if she was among the collected youths - reacted to him earlier, it's not like they had ANY kind of expectations of him: adding rudeness to that would just be one more drop in the ocean.

He breathed in to steal himself and stepped forward, addressing the only person he knew of the group. "Please forgive me, I didn't want to intrude. I simply found myself able to stand again and couldn't resist taking a walk..." His words trailed as he remembered ONE bit of etiquette even he knew. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment he stiffened his back and bent forward in a formal bow. "My name is Zhu Wenlong -" the other PROBABLY already knew his name, but introducing oneself couldn't hurt. Still bowing, he continued. "- I hope one day I'll be able to start repaying my debt."

Curved forward he found himself face-level with one of the wisps of smoke. How did the other boy get them to move? Naturally curious, he did the only thing he could and inhaled deeply as he prepared to straighten himself back up: he didn't expect much to happen - especially because he wouldn't have the slightest idea of how to react if the thread DID move. What did 'Golden Stove' even mean in the first place?

The thirteen pairs of eyes focused on Zhu Wenlong. Most of the attention was indifferent, like watching an ant. Not even the uniform made them change their attitude. The sole exception was the old man, who had a distant grandfatherly smile on, and nodded.

"Very good, very good. You managed to get up already. Good constitution."

He stoked his beard, and answered Wenlong's bow with a slight broadening of his smile. The girl from before was one of the students sitting cross-legged on the training area. She looked right through him. Now that he got better look, she seemed like the stereotypical ice princess from all those heroic stories grampa used to tell to the kids. Jade face, black hair, nose scraping the heavens.

"There's nothing to forgive. After all, you're from the village we are protecting. Feel free to stay as long as you need to recover. We have plenty of spare space here, and food isn't an issue either."

The lazy thread of whitish smoke trembled slightly, as if provoked by the sharp inhale. Then is rushed right into Wenlong's nostrils like an unstoppable snake. He could feel it shoot down to his lungs, explode into a thousand dots of light. But, instead of the sweating and pain that student exhibited before, Wenlong felt only warmth and comfort. It was so comfortable, one could easily become addicted to this sensation! So comfortable that it made him smile broadly! (Gain 1 point in all attributes)

The old man's smile froze; his eyes widened until they were big as saucers, pupils contracting to tiny points. Slowly, he pointed a trembling bony forefinger at Wenlong, and spat out a single sentence in an almost choking voice.

"Who taught you that kind of heretical method!"

Uh - what? Wenlong froze stiff, not entirely back up from his bowing yet. He instinctively took half a step back as the man raised his voice. To be honest, he briefly considered legging it - but even with the burst of energy he got from inhaling the strange thread, he doubted he'd have a chance to outrun even just one of the presents. "What, why - what did I do!?" He looked around, almost as if hoping for clues on what was happening, but not much appeared changed: the trails of smokes were still wafting lazily around and the sounds of life from the forest had not changed: if anything, they had grown more deafening as the silent attention of the group focused on him, almost as if seeing him for the first time.

Bewildered students stared at the old man, question marks floating above their heads. It’s been a while since they saw him this agitated. To tell the truth, it was only last year, when the Abbess of White Peak Pavilion visited. Meanwhile, the old man’s bright eyes slowly became clouded by doubt.

Did that youngster really assimilate qi that quickly? Or are these old eyes playing tricks on me? Impossible. I clearly saw... but he doesn’t act guilty. He doesn’t have a heretical air about him either. He probably doesn’t even know what "heretical" means. I'm reading too much into this. It must have been a fluke. Still...

With a soft "heng" sound, the elder let his hand drop and shook his head. It took him long seconds to suppress the tremble in his hand. Sounds that were scared away by his prior shout slowly trickled back.

"Too strange, too strange. This old man must be seeing things. Come, do that again. The thing you did. Just inhale deeply. Don't worry."

There's a sharp edge of suspicion, and even a trace of killing intent in that voice.

All the students looked confusedly back and forth, their gazes wandering between each other, then to this country bumpkin in a cultivator's uniform.

The white strands of gas trembled slightly with the old man's voice before continuing with their lazy, hypnotic flow. Many more threads coiled above the training area than anywhere else within Wenlong's sight.

Wenlong kind of still wanted to be just about anywhere but here - this was shaping up to be a significantly more interesting day than he ever hoped it would be. What was he supposed to even do now?
He felt he had gotten the hang of things with the thin, smoky strands: just breathe them in and... and that was all there seemed to be about it, really - it appeared pretty easy. In fact, he really wanted to try again.
But that simply couldn't be the whole story, or he wouldn't have been there, terrified of losing his life for reasons he didn't understand.

Mind in overdrive (did he start thinking faster or was that just the panic?), he reached only more questions as the conclusion. Was he supposed to be seeing the strands in the first place? He assumed the old man could - but could the students? A negative answer would have started explaining things.

In the end he did as the old man asked, his breath steadying as he slowly used the rhythm of inhalation and exhalation to steady himself against the growing fear. What he definitely did not do was going out of his way to seek out more strands, inwardly hoping they wouldn't gather and that the old man would just decide the previous event was a fluke.

There was a small voice at the back of his head telling him to just be fully honest: he owed the man his life, the least he could do was telling him the complete truth. But he simply couldn't ignore the aura of unsaid menace in his words.

"...like this?" He used the question to alter the rhythm of his breathing just as one of the strands got a bit too close for comfort, then looked at the man with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Now that he inhaled intentionally, the smoky snake-like wisps of smoke rushed towards Zhu Wenlong. There was no hesitation in the ethereal wisps; the ease of collecting this gas almost made the other students vomit blood. This new guy didn't need to concentrate at all! No, the gas practically assaulted Wenlong, and within a few seconds after starting the breathing exercise he found himself at the center of a whirlpool of white gas. All the surrounding wisps rushed into him, like an unstoppable wave. The feeling of extreme comfort washed over him, amplified a hundred-fold, becoming almost too painful to bear.

Perhaps only the old man was aware of what was happening before, but with the rush of gas being so dense that it became painfully obvious, even the students noticed what was happening. Their expressions varied from amazement over envy to outright hate. The old man's chin trembled. Just when he was ready to condemn Wenlong...

A deep laughter came from the entrance of the sect.

"Ma Liang, you old bag of bones. Have you finally found a promising student? Truly, even a blind cat can bump into a dead rat."

The man laughed as he walked closer, nonchalantly, hands behind back. He was tall, powerfully built, in mid thirties, with sword-like eyebrows and a hint of evil in his bearing. His uniform resembled to the one used in the Green Forest Pavilion, but with white instead of green, and a mountain motif instead of trees.

"Tao Shuren, I don't remember inviting you here. Why don't you go back where you came from?" The old man's chin trembled with barely restrained anger, hands balling into fists. One of the students seemed extremely uncomfortable, and purposefully avoided looking towards the uninvited visitor.

"Don't be like that, you old fart. I came to check up on my exiled student and whether he had enough of this dogshit excuse of cultivation sect. Xiong Jian, are you ready to admit your wrongs, or do you need one more month to reconsider?"

The previously uncomfortable student shivered, thick beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He bowed quickly a few times, like a chick pecking rice. "Elder is too gracious, but this Xiong doesn't dare go back to the White Mountain yet. Perhaps after everything... else is settled." There's considerable ambiguity in the tone of his voice, and the other students looked slightly surprised as well.

"There, you heard it. I won't see you out." The old man's anger is almost palpable, but this doesn't seem to bother the visitor at all.

"Pity, pity. Well, one more month it is. But I can't return empty-handed, can I? You, new guy. How about you come with me? I can promise you at a training area at least a hundred times better than this one. And dual cultivation partners, too." He winked conspiratorially, eyes filling with lecherous intention.

Wenlong was a more-or-less-healthy specimen of human male, and couldn't admit in full honesty that the casual mention of 'dual cultivation' left him completely unmoved: he heard stories about what that meant.

Once again - and it was starting to feel like a habit today - he felt hopelessly out of the loop and forced to take life-changing decision with nothing even close to the proper amount of information - and in addition to that, thinking clearly was getting harder with the recent ridiculous surge of power: he felt he could split mountains - hell, he WANTED to try splitting mountains, if only to learn how it felt. Just keeping that kind of need to do things in check was taking nearly all his concentration. And if thinking didn't work, he could only stick to his instinct: his first impression of the newcomer was significantly worse than what he had of the old man (and that was already being generous), so he simply acted on that.

He imitated Xiong Jiang and bowed deeply as he answered, but only once. "Elder is too generous, but this Zhu has a great debt and hopes he won't be made a liar on his promise to pay it back. Please forgive him for refusing Elder's great offer of dual cultivation." Did he really just imply to have refused a direct sexual advance, or was it simply a slightly unfortunate choice of words? He sure wasn't about to tell - but the high of power definitely made him bolder.
And, apparently, snarkier.

The visitor's smile froze as the ambiguity in Zhu Wenlong's words sunk in, amidst struggling expressions, and a clear tremble on the old man's beard that could only have been the result of suppressing laughter. There was a flicker of ill-will from Tao Shuren, and an unexpected coldness emanated from his body. The white wisps around him fled for a few zhang before resuming their lazy hypnotic contortions.

"Count yourself fortunate that you're the old fleabag's disciple. Or else I would have made you join your ancestors for those words."

He spat on the practice area, the wad landing halfway towards Wenlong, before turning around to leave. Just as he was stepping off, he tossed a leather-bound scroll over his shoulder.

"The invitation for the Young Stars Competition. It's in six months, the host is the Blue Lake Pavilion. Don't forget to be there with your students, old bag."

Each one of Tao Shuren's steps seemed unhurried, but somehow covered more distance than the last one, and within a breath's time he disappeared down the mountain and towards the south. For a few breaths of time, there was only awkward silence.

"Well, that settles it. Wenlong, wasn't it? You'll be one of our Pavilion's students from now on. Otherwise there's no telling what that old lecher will do to you next time you meet."

A second of stunned silence later, the students erupted into gales of laughter. Even the old man looked slightly amused, but managed to not laugh.

"And even if this old man can't save you, the store room has just the ointment you'll need. For your wounds."

More laughter. One of the students laughed so hard, tears started flowing from his eyes. The student who had prior experience with Tao Shuren also laughed, but with a slightly difficult, painful expression on his face.

"Never mind. Get acquainted with your brothers and sisters. Students, be good to your little brother and show him around later on. You can stay in the house you woke up in. Hmm, am I forgetting anything? Oh, the invitation. It's a fighting contest, and the best students will be snatched up by the Western Thunder Palace. Did I say snatched? I meant to say recruited."

He stroked his beard with one hand, his forehead darkening, as if trying to remember something really important. Then he turned to Zhu Wenlong again, eyes red, thick vein on forehead throbbing.

"Who taught you how to gather chi?"

Wenlong had ALMOST started breathing regularly again by the end of the exchange - sure, he ended up drafted into a sect anyway by the end of things, but at least it was the one he actually tried to get into for the past few years… and his cunning (and not desperate at all) plan to deflect the previous topic seemed to have worked - even if it made him noticed to an apparently rather unpleasant new acquaintance.

He was just about to reply to the old man with more jokes about ointments and follow up with a slew of questions about... well, about just about everything. Who was the other guy? If the contest was to happen in six months, what was after the one-month deadline? And just what was the old man's name?
Just the time to open his mouth, and he was once more the focus of a very unpleasant stare. Having burned the only possible bridge to get out of here, he hoped honesty would suffice. "The first time I saw chi being gathered was here, when big brother did it." He hesitated a moment before saying 'big brother' - but he had already labelled as little brother himself, so that was how it was supposed to work, right?

"Before that, only the rumors about the Pavillion, down at the village." Even to him who was saying it sounded like a woefully inadequate explanation, but there wasn't much he could add - so he simply doubled down. "It sure wasn't something I could do yesterday..." A brief pause. "...or the last day I was conscious, anyway."

"Impossible... impossible. Unless the first two extraordinary meridians are fully opened, absorbing qi like that shouldn't be possible! And that takes years of eating bitter. And by the time a cultivator accomplishes that, having those meridians clear isn't important any longer anyways, because the practitioner is almost done with foundation building. Hmm. And you managed it at such a young age. Perhaps it was that viper venom? Did it burn away the obstructions in your meridians? Truly, something that can only be encountered by chance and not wished for. Ai, if only I had had that kind of luck when I was your age..."

The old man tugged on his beard in frustration, hard, pulling out more than a few hairs. The other students had varying degrees of envy, wonder, and hate on their faces. After all, Wenlong seemed to be doing something far beyond their own capabilities. This made them agitated to say the least; the old man noticed the problem even before the redness in his students' eyes managed to condense into real resentment.

"But there's more to cultivation than just absorbing qi. We cultivate to be able to fight. That's the real reason for growing stronger! Else, who would protect all the ordinary people in beneath our mountain? When the beasts stampede, or the big sects war, or the mundane kingdoms march their armies, it's us who have to deter them from razing the villages. So, let's see how you fare against... hmmm. Xia'er."

One of the students looked up, rather surprised that he was mentioned. With a look of resignation on his face, he stood and walked towards Wenlong with light yet steady steps. Once at a polite distance, he clasped his hands. There were no unnecessary flourishes, no aggression or other feeling from the man.

"Uh... my name is Qin Xia. I'll go easy on you."

The fighting stance he assumed was orthodox, mostly defensive, and using no qi at all. It seemed as if he intended to throw a few punches to finish this quickly.

Well, apparently that somewhat and somehow worke-.
The old man's next phrase hit him like a punch at the stomach and Wenlong let escape a very much undignified sound somewhere between a squeak and a cough as he heard he was about to fight. Did everyone forget he had been bedridden until a few hours earlier? Apparently yes.
His whole combat experience could be summed up into some friendly childhood scuffs with wooden sticks as he and his gaggle of friends played, ironically, at being cultivators from the mountain who defended the village from bandits and brigands. And there was that episode when the neighbor's dog, about as domesticated as your average mountain lion, broke the chain and chased him for half the city - but did 'running for your life and getting stuck up a tree for half the day' even count as useful experience?

Still, this didn't exactly seem like the sort of thing he could just say 'no' to - and while his conscious mind told him it was absolute madness, the part of him that just got drunk on qi really wanted to have a hands-on test of what it meant. So he breathed deeply to calm himself before mirroring the other in joining his hands, fist into palm. "My name is Zhu Wenlong -" A short pause and the hint of a playful smile. "- please, remember that this nose is my favourite one." Not to mention, his only one.

If his training level meant he had little hope for victory, he decided he could as well take things in stride and just learn as much as he could: with that in mind he didn't rush to meet the other and instead started by studying him. He already saw the wisps of... ambient qi? React to the actions - or maybe to the intent - of the two older men. Did it do the same with Qin Xia? Could he use it to have an idea of what the other was about to do? Wenlong approached with a high guard and nearly fully defensive posture: this test required letting the other throw his punch first, and he did like his nose, after all.
That, and the chances of being knocked out cold with a single blow were probably lower if he didn't parry it with his front teeth?

To be honest, considering how important the concept of "face" was, attacking one's face was a true sign of disrespect. It could directly result in a feud between families! So Wenlong's caution was probably unnecessary. Then again, it was always better to exercise caution.

"Don't worry, little brother. I'll try my hardest to not hurt you. It's a sparring match, after all. And I can tell you don't have experience. So let me show you my Bamboo Fist style." The older student had a honest smile on his face as he moved in and threw a few practice punches.

After paying attention to the movements of those smoky wisps and Qin Xia's movements, it became obvious how the smoke reacted to mere intention. Trembling, forming swirls and eddies, behaving like waves being split by a boat. The stronger the intention, the faster the movement of the wisps. This sudden realization almost made Wenlong react late to the coming attack. And another. And a third punch. Evading such attacks was almost too easy - the smoky wisps showed where the attack would land even before any movement was started.

The students watching from the side witnessed the village oaf twitch and stumble and evade their brother's attacks through sheer luck. There was no elegance, no technique to the boy's movement. Perhaps brother Xia tried hard to not hit the boy at all, and that's why none of the punches or palms landed?

This went on for a minute. Then two. Qin Xia moved faster and faster, intent on at least making his hand touch the elusive buffoon. Zhu Wenlong, meanwhile, understood for the first time what crisp punches felt like. They were like bamboo stalks being whipped around by strong wind, elastic yet powerful. Reading the smoke wisps allowed him to dodge them all, though.

Three minutes. Then five. Qin Xia started going out of breath, thick beads of sweat on his forehead. What should have been an easy way to showcase his favorite fist style was slowly turning into a humiliation. One can bee lucky once, or twice, but a whole five minutes of staying untouched by a trained fighter? What was going on here?

This was.. entirely unexpected. Wenlong could hardly believe he had gone so long without being hit. The other was faster and more skilled than him, but not quite fast or skilled enough to overcome the advantage of him predicting where he wanted to strike. He could probably win this by sheer exhaustion if he really wanted to?
Something about that plan just didn't feel right: the crowd watching would hardly be satisfied with such a result, and his opponent even less.

Keeping track of Qin Xia's attacks like this was something he could only do while focusing only on defense: an absolutely awesome trick, but he owed his sparring partner more. And if it ended with him snatching defeat from the jaw of victory, so be it.

He gritted his teeth as he reached his decision and stepped right into the next attack, reducing the margin by which he was dodging WELL below safety in order to strike back: with an awkward defense he pushed the other's outstretched left out of the way, palm against arm as he balled his right into a fist aimed... somewhere in the generic direction of the Qin's torso; despite being the one to initiate a closer stage of the match he was hardly ready for a real fight and instinct kicked in over his nonexistent training, causing him to close his eyes for a moment just as he anticipated the impact.

There was a soft sound of fist meeting body, an insignificant amount of pain on Wenlong's chest, and the sound of his buttocks meeting the floor.

There was a moment of silence. Zhu Wenlong cautiously opened one eye, then the other. His opponent had an expression of surprise on his face, as did the rest of the students. The old man was busy stopping his chin from falling to the ground.

"That was... uncalled for, little brother. You didn't have to. I have... my pride, after all. It's my loss. I couldn't even touch you, despite years of effort I put into the Bamboo Style."

The man hung his head and loafed back to his spot among the students, dejectedly. Things had been going wrong for him during these last years. and today was no different. He sighed inwardly and closed his eyes, shutting out everything else. Like always, he sought solace in meditation.

"Feng'er." The old man called out a girl's name with trembling voice. She was lithe, phoenix-eyed, and obviously very mean-tempered. She wasted no time with introductions - instead she gave a shrill battle-cry and launched herself at Wenlong in a flying kick, aiming to follow up with a flurry of kicks and punches.

She was much more skilled than the guy before. Wenlong had to use the full extent of his new-found powers to come out on top - or perhaps orchestrate a more skilled strategem than the last?

Humiliating Qin Xia was FAR from Wenlong's intention. Never having been a fighter he had to test his limits and understand himself. Conquering fear and instinct when closing in to an opponent wasn't something that could be granted by heaven, it had to be conquered by oneself - bruise after bruise, if necessary. This was Wenlong's first bruise. Maybe the next one would go better.
The other thing he learned: if he couldn't face a single punch from Qin Xia and stand, getting hit at all had to be out of the question - another thing he couldn't learn any other way other than this. He opened his mouth to explain to the other boy, but the change of opponent didn't leave him the time to do so - and once again, he was on the defensive.

With three key difference: first - this time he actually wanted to win. Second - despite what everyone else could think about it, his last stunt with Qin allowed him to get just a little bit more comfortable with himself in a fight, making him willing to dodge by shorter margins without panic. Third - now he had spent several minutes seeing how a proper punch was thrown; not enough to call it real training, but perhaps it could avoid him the worst mistakes.

He stumbled to the side, nearly falling but avoiding a kick - when did he get this sense of balance anyway? Half the stunts he'd been performed should rightly have sent him on his ass, but he always somehow managed to get his balance back before hitting the ground - even if occasionally on a rather awkward position. He probably could win this by purely dodging. But the girl was probably his limit - any more skilled and his newfound capability would turn hits into grazes, prolonging the fight with little hope for victory. 'Note to self: as soon as this fight ends, inhale one of those things again. The old man is clearly insane and will probably throw someone else at you. You need the energy.'

Wait, inhaling? They reacted to breath, so he had another test to make. Another barely dodged attack (he was starting to get good at this) and he stepped forward, counting on the girl's arrogance more than his own skill to land his hit. As best as he could he imitated Qin Xia's stance in his attack - in THEORY that meant he tried to punch in a single swift motion that started at the opposite foot, involving most of the muscles of his body to hit the opponent with a relaxed arm for a result that looked like a fist and felt like a bamboo whip. In practice, he simply learned that a good punch doesn't start at the shoulder.

Step in. Follow the wisps. Keep your eyes open. Punch. Exhale!
This message was last edited by the player at 09:26, Sat 15 Feb 2020.

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, and it seemed that was where Wenlong was headed. As a single step becomes the beginning of an endless journey, so a single misstep can become the source of a thousand hatreds.

He discovered that the newfound energy within his body flowed along newly opened meridians freely, without obstructions, allowing him to move naturally and in whatever way he intended. This, coupled with the telltale flow of those smoky wisps, allowed him to roll and evade. For some reason his movements reminded him of cats playing in the village - unfettereed, nimble, suddenly changing their posture and movement.

While the students had half-expected him to put up a fight against the first challenger, him surviving the initial onslaught against this girl made everyone stare in shock. This was somehow lost on Wenlong as he was too busy to pay attention.

The idea of striking back using the Bamboo Fist style barely congealed in his mind when the energy in his body responded. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl, as Wenlong realized that the Bamboo Fist wasn't a fist art at all. Its movements turned out to be fragments of some kind of internal cultivation art; in his mind's eye, he remembered tall bamboos during winter, laying flat against the ground, laden with layers upon layers of snow; with a huge shudder, the flexible plants would shake off snow and shoot skywards. Huge roots allowed them to bend, accumulate energy, and unleash it all in a single movement. Just like that, as he bent to the side while dodging the girl's next attack, he felt energy flowing according to the moves he remembered, his meridians expanding, breath igniting his intention, energy compressing like bent bamboo. And he let go, right into the gap between the girl's techniques - an undignified, pedestrian punch with the force of a suddenly straightening bamboo pole. He could feel the energy going up from the ground, through the twisted and tensed muscles of his leg, hips, spine, shoulder and hand, ending in a relaxed fist. She managed to get both arms up and crossed them over in an X shape to meet the strike.

Something stirred deep inside his dantian, stimulated by his desire to win.
A bamboo? Not bad! Not bad! This viper princess shall take up residence in this strike and teach manners to that frog living at the bottom of a well! Let's hear how loud she can croak after this hit!

WHAM!

Wenlong blinked in amazement as his opponent was sent flying back a few feet; her landing was less than dignified, but she managed to not fall down. With another shrill yell she put her hands up and took a step forward... then froze and stared at her left forearm. She quickly pulled up her sleeve, to reveal a quickly spreading black bruise where she had met Wenlong's strike. Her lips became ashen-gray, and she collapsed without a sound.

The Yellow Springs were not even a dozen steps away.

"Feng'er!"

The old man yelled and ran towards her, quickly examining her pulse and the black bruise. Without a second thought, he pulled out a small knife and cut into the bruise, then squeezed out sweet-smelling brownish-black blood. There was an unnaturally large amount of it flowing from the tiny wound. The bruise started receding, then disappeared as the last of the poisoned blood was squeezed out. This took only a few heartbeats of time despite seeming much, much longer. At least it was long enough for Wenlong to come up with a suitable excuse.

Wenlong was starting to become numb to shocking surprises, considering the rhythm at which they were falling on him. He stared in amazement as the girl got pushed back by his strike - was that really his strike? How did it even happen? His eyes were ALREADY about as wide as tea plates in surprise and shock when she revealed the sick-looking spot.
What the hell was going on now? Did he do that? How did he do that?
He stared at the girl, then at his still-extended fist in disbelief. At the girl once more and again at the fist.
"Who are you!?" Once could have been a poison-and-thunder-induced hallucination, but this was the second time he heard the voice - either he had gone entirely insane or it was real.

And the only idea he had to find out involved talking to his own hand, so 'gone entirely crazy' wasn't quite off the table. "Am I possessed? What's happening here?" Fireplace stories about evil spirits near-never involved a sudden ability to punch cultivators - but he didn't exactly have first-hand accounts. Still, he needed an explanation and the mystery voice was his only hope to have one better than 'I have no idea what happened, please believe me!'. And he already used that one once.

He wanted to approach the girl to make sure she was fine. He wanted to run away and avoid the upcoming interrogation. The instincts clashed and froze him in place, whispering to his hand before the group's attention could return to him.

This might make a good fireplace story, one day. But right now...

The surroundings dissolved into grey mist; the floor became soggy, soft earth. Right in front of Wenlong, a nine feet tall bamboo tree swayed slightly in non-existing wind. Coiled halfway towards its top was a small snake with bright, reflective eyes, covered in golden and purple spines instead of regular scales. Its gaze fell on him with utmost indifference, even condescension.



"Shouldn't you kneel when in the presence of this viper princess? Don't think that I'll forgive you for your audacity just because I chose to make a nest in your dantian! But I will let you know that your choice of first technique is adequate. This viper princess is fond of bamboo forests."

The snake slithered a few inches further up. It had a satisfied look about it, if one can judge such things with a snake. Faint wisps of smoke followed her movement; more smoke wisps seeped in from the surroundings, towards the bamboo. It took Wenlong only a few seconds to realize that more wisps would lazily seep in form the surroundings every time he breathed in, and surge slowly upwards every time he breathed out, their movement making bamboo leaves rustle softly.

"Hurry up and gather more energy."

There was a flash, and Wenlong was staring at his own hand, while the other students and the old man were putting the poisoned girl on a stretcher and preparing to get her into her hut. One of the students stood in front of him, eyeing him warily.

"Hey, he's waking up! Teacher! He's waking up!"

"I'm sorry!" That was the easiest part of his apology - he truly was sorry, after all. His forehead nearly impacted the ground as he frantically bent forward, fast and agitated enough to nearly lose his balance. The real problem was finding a good explanation. Was hosting a weirdly cute, absolutely haughty and apparently energy-hungry snake in your dantian one of those 'heretical' things that would end up with him smeared on the ground? Honestly, if he had to make a list of 'things that might or might not be heresy', he'd probably put it in the 'yes' column himself.

"I don't know... no." He corrected himself. It was true that he didn't know, but he had enough pieces for a mostly true, mostly believable explanation. "It has to be the poison. It must have left something in me." Yeah. 'something' like the whole snake. He didn't dare lift his head as he explained himself. "I felt it flow, rolling along with my breath." He bit his lip, piercing just deep enough to taste copper. "I didn't know what it was at the moment. And I couldn't hold it back." Notwithstanding that 'holding it back' could possibly not have been exactly healthy for himself in the first place - what HAPPENED when something like that couldn't find a proper outlet? He wondered for a moment as he awaited judgement.

"Please give me a chance. I swear I'll learn to control it." Even as fear and shock reassured him that with 'control' he meant 'never use it again', there was a small part at the back of his mind that couldn't stop considering the potential of it. 'Strike those who deserve it' after all was the same coin as 'don't murder by accident', merely a different side.
For some reason, Tao Shuren immediately flashed to mind.

Things moved faster, somehow. Maybe it was the little snake's doing; or just an overly battered and mentally exhausted youth stepping back and trying to avoid the focus of this chaos that rages all around him. Ever since that event in the forest, things have been extraordinary, to say the least. As he turned around, a new understanding of his body filtered through his newly opened meridians, and for a second the image of that bid nine foot tall bamboo tree merged with his spine. Every movement of his became springy, powerful... and he could feel the little snake being alert, just waiting for an opportunity to bite through his left palm.

The poisoned girl was dragged into her hut. It took an hour before the teacher was satisfied with arrangements. These included the same kind of detoxifying broth that Zhu Wenlong was subject to before; bedsheets specially soaked in healing salve; and prepared infusions to help the girl recover as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, one of the students kept Wenlong company. The excitable fellow's name was Lei Guo, and he had the annoying habit of referring to himself in the third person. Wenlong spent half an hour talking with the boy, learning quite a lot about the other students and the sect master.

The star pupil was Lu Xuefeng, a real leader figure to look up to, with a few insecurities that made him even more lovable. The girl that was poisoned was Huang Feng. Tempestuous temperament and good looks form an explosive mixture in her, and when she can kick everyone's butt. The second or third strongest was Ding Shi, an ambitious guy who seemingly had no other goal other than to surpass the first seated student. Gao Su was a fat guy with a  heart of gold and body of a dozen; dependable, open, stalwart, and straightforward. The raven-haired thin girl was named Shi Zheng. Everything around her went wrong ever since she turned ten, and her streak of bad luck just intensified with training here. Su Xue was the seventh disciple in terms of power. Apparently of low moral character and talented in things a proper young gentleman shouldn't touch in a lifetime. The eighth disciple was Qin Xia, a perpetually depressed scion of a dying noble family, who unwittingly inspired Wenlong to use the bamboo as a mental image to spark his growth. Zhang Gang is a talented cook. The joke amongst the disciples was that even his name sounds like pots clanging! Everyone likes him, however, and his dishes are top notch. Dong Luoyang was the ice beauty serving food to Wenlong at the beginning of the day. She believes that she doesn't belong here, and often talks about how her uncle will get her out and back to her big merchant family; this Lei Guo shared in a rather sarcastic and poisonous manner. Probably because of constant rejections. Xiong Jian was an exile from White Peak Pavilion. Apparently there was some sort of gross misconduct that necessitated a few years away from his home sect. Tao Shuren nevertheless tries to get him to come back every month for unknown reasons. And finally the youngest disciple sister was the noble Mao Huo. An actual noble from a super-family and two year younger than most of the others. She thoroughly hated being nicknamed "cat".

The Green Forest Pavilion was one of four small sects in the Clear Sky Country. The others were the White Peak Pavilion to the north, famous for its abbess and mountaintop location; the Endless Grass Pavilion to the south, situated quite literally in the middle of an endless steppe; and the Blue Lake Pavilion to the west, on a peninsula stabbed miles into the clear blue waters of a crystal clear lake that used to be a volcano. Each of these small sects had between a dozen and a hundred members, and were subservient to the Western Thunder Palace.

Is there anything else Wenlong would like to know?

He had wanted to join the pavillion, true - like every kid always wants to be a hero. But the details never really reached the village: they weren't matters that the inhabitants could - or even wanted - to influence. Suddenly beginning to hear casual talks of sect politics made things somewhat more real, in a way that even fighting had not. Either that, or perhaps he was simply latching his focus on anything that didn't involve people he might or might not have crippled with poison.

"...and those are also the sects taking part in the Young Stars Competition, right?" They weren't particularly complex dots to connect, after all. "Or are people from outside the sects under Western Thunder Palace invited as well?" This was idle curiosity talking - and such contests were the fodder for games of imagination back at the village, so he really did want to know more. But the real question was a different one, one that had gnawed at him for a while by now - and he finally blurted it out as a complete non-sequitur during one of the pauses Lei Guo did to catch a breath. At least he didn't seem shy about talking "What's heresy? What makes something heretical?"

The topic had been brought up linked to his continued ability to breath one time too many to not be curious about it, and hopefully at least this basic level of questioning wasn't forbidden.

It turned out the winned of the Young Stars competition gained the rights to special cultivation resources, a special technique, and direct acceptance into student ranks of the Western Thunder palace. It was no small honour - then again, a cautious person will notice that kind of entry into a sect would gather a fair share of malignant gazes. Then again, cultivation was always dangerous, heaven-defying business, a road strewn with bones...

While outsiders were technically not barred from the Young Stars competition, they were rarely successful. This might be because they feared injury, or because they were unfamiliar with the cultivators of the minor branches. In any case, no outsider had won the competinion in the last twenty years.

There was a similar tournament held in the Western Thunder palace, with other competitors coming from the southern, eastern and northern palaces; this in turn was overseen by the Eternal Thunder Sect. Of this, however, the students here knew very little, other than that it existed and that students there had unfathomable cultivations, higher even than teacher Ma Liang.

The question about heresy drew a laugh. "Well, what do you think? Everything the old farts deem wrong is heresy. Don't take it to heart. Well, unless the punishment elders from the Palace say it. They mean business, and have the authority to back their (bigoted) opinions. The official stance is, everyone in our sect is orthodox, and all the countless struggling little sects in the countryside are either suspicious or clearly heretical. One can tolerate the former, and has to eradicate the latter. The last sect eradicated nearby was the Eternal Demon Boar sect... well, the name is somewhat misleading, elder said those were just half a dozen misguided fools who found the wrong kind of martial arts manual."
He shook his head. To be honest, he wasn't sure whether he could withstand that kind of temptation in their place. The promise of power...

Zhu Wenlong felt the viper shift in his dantian. "Ask the oaf whether there's a place with large amounts of snakes nearby."

"Yes, because I'm sure people won't worry at all that we'll just go around poisoning MORE disciples if we start asking that sort of question!" He had to nearly bite his tongue to avoid answering out loud and instead just think the words, hoping they'd reach his target. Between this and elder Tao Shuren earlier, he was discovering a certain aptitude for snark as a defensive mechanism. He focused on this instead of easily it was to switch to referring to himself in plural - then again, poisoning Huang Feng wasn't something he did alone so it sort of fit, right?

"Alright then -" He joined the other in his laughter, albeit more nervously than him: 'found the wrong manual' sounded suspiciously similar to what was happening to him. Minus the 'manual' part. "- so heresy is like stealing pastries from the baker. Perfectly fine if nobody notices, still okay if nobody catches you and a world of pain if someone manages to get his hands on you." After lightening up the mood with that small joke, he felt more comfortable in indirectly probing for the information the viper wanted. "Can you tell me anything about the area around here? Living in the village didn't teach much beyond 'You're going to get eaten if you go too far in any direction' - which is actually correct enough to work." He reached to instinctively massage the spot where he was bitten as he continued. "But I'd like to know more if there are specific areas to avoid."
Whatever the small viper said, 'large amounts of snakes' did sound like something most sane people would avoid, not seek. The question worked.

Wenlong could feel the little snake make a gesture with her head and tail, the movement somehow managing to convey infinite disdain. "It wasn't my fault the little frog got bitten when poking her head out of her well. At any rate, I just need snake qi. It's the least amount of repayment for my help. But don't say this snake princess is stingy - any place where we snakes congregate is bound to have stuff useful to cultivators, so you might benefit even beyond my goodwill." The little snake blinked in a self-satisfied manner.

The joke was met with a groan and a shake of the Lei Guo's head. "Anyways, don't mention heresy aorund teacher. His scars are not just for show - it seems he acquired them figthing heretical cultivators, so he might take a dim view of your joke. But pastries- hmm, I'll ask brother Gang whether he has some extra left over. He makes awesome vegetable buns with lemongrass."

Outside and blissfully unaware, the other student continued to chat. He outlined the local geography. The area around the Green Forest Pavilion was, obviously, quite forested with frequent clearings, hills, and a few small mountains. The Green Forest pavilion occupied the side of the largest mountain in the vincinitiy. A network of trails and a main road connected the settlements to the capital of Clear Sky which was to the southwest. A number of danger areas were noted around the village but none within a day's walk. One of those, a dark forest hugging a small hill with odd stones protruding from it, was the only one known for snakes.

"And there you go. Snakes. A bit farther than I'd have liked, but we should be able to get there as soon as we have some free days." Assuming, of course, that he wasn't about to be tossed into a hole and forgotten for what he did - the wait was starting to be more than he could handle.

"So - what happens now?" That question condensed about a billion more. What was going to happen to him? Was he still going to be a member of the sect even with the accident? Would it have been a better idea to slip away now and try his luck on his own, even with Tao Shuren still angry at him and the old teacher suspecting him of heresy? That didn't sound like a good plan, and the Demon Boar Sect probably agreed.

Whatever tricks he could pull now with the help of the viper, he HAD to give them a veneer of legality under the umbrella of an orthodox sect - or his remaining days were going to be painful, panicked and very, very short.

There was a soft sound of fist meeting body, an insignificant amount of pain on his chest, and the sound of his buttocks meeting the floor

"What happens now, Wen long, purely depends upon the choices you make. Guo'er, you're excused. Go fetch water. And contemplate on the values of modesty and moderation."

The other student clasped his hands and scurried away, the movements somehow conjuring up the impression of an oversized rat. The teacher shook his head gently and stood opposite Wen long.

"We need to pick a path for you. Despite your poison technique, I find it difficult to recommend such a dark art to cultivate. If you were female, it wouldn't have been an issue, since females are naturally gifted with poison. But males are necessarily limited in the yin capacity. You seem to have an affinity for the bamboo style, perhaps you want to use that as a base for your cultivation instead? Since you haven't really started cultivating yet, you could also let me pick me a new skill that you'll practice. At any rate, it needs to be something simple and applicable, because the Young Stars contest is in six months. It's barely enough time to scratch the surface, but enough to make your fighting style look less... uh... acrobatic."

The little snake's reply didn't lag even a split second after the teacher's words before it echoed in the back of Wenlong's mind. "Feh. It takes an old frog with indigestion to produce such loud and stinky farts. With this snake princess taking care of you, you'll never have to worry about your yin capacity. And this princess doesn't even dare imagine what stinky froggish art the old frog would choose for you. Probably some heroically stupid bodyguard skill. Laughable! Laughable!"

Around them, the pavilion slowly returns to a semblance of normal activity. Cooking, practicing, cleaning. Every few minutes one of the students would go in to check the poisoned girl's condition.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:31, Sat 04 Sept 2021.

Wenlong oof-ed as his bottom impacted the ground. This was good news, at least: the plan to welcome him in the pavillion didn't change, even if he was pretty sure that 'six months of training before the Young Stars contest' wasn't exactly the standard.

And the decision he was called to make was already pretty hard, for someone so new to this world. "I don't think I can afford to not learn more about poison techniques. If only to understand how to not use it." This was the most diplomatic way he could put it - With how the tiny viper (was there even an end to her reservoir of smugness?) was pushing, there was no way he wouldn't end up practicing poison arts.

"I also don't know how comfortable I'd be at the Young Stars contest with that as my only weapon." He had no idea how obvious the viper presence would be the more he practiced poison arts, and he wasn't looking forward to finding out in front of a whole assortment of elders - or to find out on which side of the 'heresy' coinflip they'd consider her.

He reached behind to rub the back of his head, lost in thought for a moment. "If it's up to me, until a moment ago I'd have picked the bamboo style with little hesitation, it seemed appropriate." And the snake seemed to like it too, definitely an extra plus. "But if Elder has something else in mind I'd at least like to hear it, if possible." Who could resist the lure of a mystery box?

"Besides, can he really possibly teach me anything about poison that this great viper princess can't?" He suspected flattery would take him places with the tiny snake.

The little snake's estimate turned out to not be too far from the mark. The art the old teacher demonstrated was named Six Arhats Combine. It was a simple art with few stances emphasizing stability, with a total of six tricks hidden within its forms - unexpected, powerful strikes in an otherwise unremarkably average art that would catch a sleeping opponent unaware. If the six surprises were known by the enemy, the art would be less than useless.

Wenlong could feel the snake's haughty gaze and the arrogant sound of her tongue flicking about. The reptilian princess didn't even say anything pompously patronizing as his newes student stared, slack-jawed, at the teacher moving in the short form and explaining the functions of each stance.

Then again, the art was simple, and it would take little effort to learn. Wenlong has 5 months for training; the last month will mostly be taken up by traveling to the competition.

Choices, choices...

1. It takes a single week to travel to and from the snake-riddled dark forest. Each week spent practicing there will advance the snake's power significantly, and a part of this increase will filter to Wenlong to his internal and lightness skills. He will acquire an unhidable (for now) poison aura after three weeks of this.
   
2. practicing the Bamboo style will benefit Wenlong more, and some of his progress will benefit the snake as well. This provides a big boost to his internal skill, and a small boost to the other three.
   
3. sparring with the other students will benefit his external skill most, along with a chance at improving relations with other students
   
4. going hunting for beasts might be a loss of time, or he might come up with something useful. At any rate, his lightness and meridians skill will benefit.
   
5. practicing the Six Arhats Combine will yield a modest boost to his external and meridians skill.
   
6. quiet meditation for a week will advance all of his attributes a little and bore the little snake into mischief.

So, what will our hero's first four choices be?

The snake ended up being right about the new art on the table. It was probably the most practical thing to learn in the short term (as in, it seemed like the fastest way to learn how to properly throw a simple fist or withstand one) but probably not a good choice long-term. And it didn't look like something the little viper would benefit much from - which to be honest, he wasn't quite sure if it was a good or bad thing.

So the real choice was between the bamboo style and getting lost into the forest to meditate on the secrets of snakeness. Probably going and disappearing for nearly a month right after joining and barely learning the names of people was, if not rude, at least suspicious: he wasn't looking forward to more accusations of heresy.

"I think I should practice the Bamboo Style" He reached his decision. "And see if my brothers can help make sure I really learn my lessons."

He planned to spend one of the following months following the lead of the small snake and maybe also hunt beasts near his destination, but it probably wasn't the best way to start - and hey, maybe some of the other students used techniques suitable to both him and the viper like Qin Xia did.

In short, the plan for month 1 was two weeks of bamboo style and two of sparring, alternated.

Week 1. Bamboo style

Wenlong tried to practice with the other students in the practice area. The glazed bricks underfoot formed a strange resonance with the Bamboo Fist internal method, making him feel extremely comfortable. As he went through the slow, deliberate motions the wisps of smoke whirled and snaked around him, forming spirals and lines following his motions. The other students seemed unable to see the smoke, even Qin Xia who offered advice and practiced with Wenlong. Teacher checked up on his progress every day, gave pointers, and seemed genuinely helpful - if disappointed that Wenlong didn't choose his Arhat Fist.
During a night, he dreamed of the snake princess. The single nine foot tall bamboo seemed to be almost imperceptibly taller now, the wisps of smoke around it more plentiful. Her gaze, a tiny bit less condescending.
This snake princess approves. Don't forget to take a trip to the snake forest too.

Due to the glazed brick practice area, all gains are +1 point.
External - 2
Internal - 6
Lightness - 3
Meridians - 2

Week 2. Sparring

Qin Xia naturally became Wenlong's first sparring partner. However, this was of limited use. Even other students willing to spar didn't manage to threaten him. Only closing his eyes and relying on his perception of smoke threads twisting and coiling around him was this time even slightly challenging. During this week, the girl he had poisoned recovered almost completely. She kept well away, however, and didn't show the slightest intention to fight. Another student unwilling to spar was Lu Xuefeng, the star pupil. Or should that be "former star pupil"? The youth was until Wenlong's appearance the focus of teacher's efforts. A flame of jealousy began to burn there, hidden deep behind dark irises.

Due to the glazed brick practice area, all gains are +1 point.
External - 2
Internal - 2
Lightness - 1
Meridians - 1
Special? - no

Week 3. Bamboo style

The second week of practicing Bamboo Fist was at least as beneficial to Wenlong's cultivation as the first. He could feel everything about his body changing and transforming. At moments the smoke generated by his movements felt almost thick enough to manifest small puffs of wind. The feeling of gaining more and more power was intoxicating. With every deep breath, he could feel all the smoke sinking to his dantian and nourishing the bamboo there. The snake princess seems to have gone to sleep, just like a snake digesting a hearty meal.

Due to the glazed brick practice area, all gains are +1 point.
External - 2
Internal - 6
Lightness - 3
Meridians - 3

Week 4. Sparring

Another week dedicated to sparring let Wenlong solidify his knowledge... or at least let him remember the names of his fellow students without difficulty. Things seemed to have settled down into a routine - morning practice and stretching, sparring, midday meal, afternoon practice, cooldown, lecture by the teacher. Sparring was safe and well-controlled, with only the lightest contact permitted by the teacher. Time seemed to accelerate...

Due to the glazed brick practice area, all gains are +1 point.
External - 2
Internal - 2
Lightness - 2
Meridians - 1
Special? - no

The first month of training passed by blazingly fast. Wenlong integrated into the small community, and the other students accepted him... mostly. The teacher was satisfied with his progress.

Total stats:
External - 21+8=29
Internal - 46+16=62
Lightness - 31+9=40
Meridians - 46+7=53

Options for month 2:

1. Snake forest expedition
   
2. Bamboo style practice
   
3. More sparring
   
4. Beast hunting
   
5. Six Arhats Combine practice
   
6. Quiet meditation
   
7. A trader brought news that a miracle worker set up his cart in the village, selling magical charms and trinkets. The man seemed harmless, and the villagers bought a thing or two just to humor him. Going down the mountain, checking him out and going back up will take a week's time.

As he could probably have expected, sparring ended up being less useful than he hoped for it to be - and despite that, it felt like he was still growing faster than he was reasonably expected to. While he could still grab some pointers, he had a sneaking suspicion that this level of practice would quickly wane in usefulness. He did, however, wonder from time to time how helpful it was for the others to spar with him. And while he did try his best to keep himself humble, he had to actively repress the thought that if this was the level of the contest, with a few more months of training it was going to be impossible to not place first.

Well, those were all problems for his future self - along with the growing jealousy of Lu Xuefeng: while Wenlong would have preferred to get along it was more than understandable where the other was coming from. And any hand extended in friendship right now risked being understood as pity instead.

His current self instead finally had an excuse for a trip down at the village and sure was going to take it - if only to check how things were going with people he knew. He wasn't exactly swimming in money, but buying things wasn't the main purpose in the first place. Before going he asked around the students for other interested ones to see if they could go in a small group and keep each other company on the way down the mountain.

Depending on the best travel path he also planned to leave with the booklet he received on his first day and just keep going forward to the snake forest after visiting the mystery miracle worker, with the (pretty true, after all) excuse of wanting to see if he could find some of the medicinal plants listed. Otherwise he'd just return to the pavillion before heading to the forest.

One week of mystery box miracle worker, one week of travel, two weeks of snakes.

Wenlong ended up going to the village alone. It seemed to be teeming with the usual activity. Things ought to have been familiar and comforting to Wenlong - after all, this was his home. So he felt the warm feeling of familiarity in his tummy with each step he took. But once he finally climbed over the last hill to see the untidy bunch of huts, his newfound ability to see the white threads of smoke allowed him to see how energy-poor the area was. Almost no threads of white floated anywhere near the village, and the area around his home was completely bereft of smoke. Something seemed seriously wrong here, but Wenlong wasn't experienced or knowledgable enough to know what.

The greetings he got from villagers were friendly enough, if laced with caution - as if someohow he changed because of wearing this new uniform. Even ihs own family seemed distant, even his own mother only hesitantly offering a hug. Clearly he didn't belong here any longer - or was that only a feeling he could shake off like a dog skakes off water?

The peddler was a disappointment. A withered old man with foggy eyes selling worthless trinkets from a barely functional handcart. There was nothing notable about the person at all, and if anything it reminded Wenlong of how wretched life could become.

There was a sense of loss creeping up while trudging towards the snake mountain. Wenlong's distraction was almost palpable, and he failed to find any significant herb on the way.

Once finally at the thickly forested, fog-shrouded snake mountain, the snake princess woke up. Her very presence seemed to make the fog churn and billow, opening a passage towards a clearing near the center of the forest. Wenlong could sense numerous swirls of white smoky threads intersecting above a sunlight-lit patch of moss - almost as if the place was prepared for cultivation. A crone glad in green worn robes bowed towards Wenlong from the shadows. She turned out to be mute, attentive, and nearly soundless, serving spring water and forest fruits in small wooden bowls whenever Wenlong needed. Numerous snakes lithered around the clearing, more flet than seen in the gloom of the deep forest. Despite this, Wenlong felt no fear at all. Somehow he felt more at home here than in the village, and the energy of this place seemed to naturally flow into him with each breath. It was an intoxicating feeling - pleasant tingles and warmth running along his skin and focusing in the dantian, where the snake princess devoured most of the energy. What she left for him was  enough to significantly strengthen him, however. He could also feel a needle-shaped emerald shadow forming in the back of his mind, attentive to his thoughts and just waiting to strike. With each passing day of meditation, the shadow turned more and more solid, and seemed like a drop of crystal more than anything else. Two weeks of meditation was not enough for it to reach completion, however.

It was a time of silence and quiet, punctuated here and there by the little snake's content sighs.

The journey back was completely uneventful.

Week 1 (village) Special - no
Week 2 (travel) Special - no
Week 3 (snake mountain 1) External - 1 Internal - 7 Lightness - 2 Meridians - 2 Special? - yes!
Week 4 (snake mountain 2) External - 1 Internal - 5 Lightness - 3 Meridians - 3 Special? - no

Final stats:
External - 29+1+1=31
Internal - 62+5+7=74
Lightness - 40+3+2=45
Meridians - 53+3+3=59

Options for month 3:

1. Snake forest expedition
   
2. Bamboo style practice
   
3. More sparring
   
4. Beast hunting
   
5. Six Arhats Combine practice
   
6. Quiet meditation

Well, if he had not noticed before this was proof his new life was on a different track from his past. Sad, in a way. But also liberating. This was another future now, without the slightest hint of doubt. The fond (and less fond) memories of his home would never go away, but things had to change.
Maybe the trader ended up being a wasted week for his training, but it was still a week that steeled his resolve.

After returning for a brief moment he considered asking around the pavillion if anyone had ever heard of the mysterious crone - but then decided to avoid attractng attention to his training spot.

Two months gone and three to go. By now, even new to things as he was, it was pretty obvious that the training he was most affine to was heavily skewed to the development of his internal energy, with the biggest hole in the form of external techniques. A hole pretty much shaped precisely in the form of the Six Arhats Combine that Elder offered to teach him. Could he ignore that aspect of training and just focus on his strong points? Probably - but he assumed a solid base would help more than early specialization in the long run.

So he asked to learn the basics of that technique as well... and then spent the three weeks that followed practicing it (end everything else he knew) to exhaustion: if training with his fellow disciples was too easy in moderate amounts it was simply a matter of making it harder on himself - at least to find his limits. For the last three weeks of the month he sparred as much as the teachers allowed - and then sparred some more, purposefully tiring himself with as-continuous-as-possible practice with as few breaks as he could handle.

Arrogant? Probably. Effective? Only one way to find out.

One week: Six Arhats Combine practice
Three Weeks: More sparring, with extra sparring on the side and sparring to go.

Week 1> Six Arhats. (rolls: 2,1,1,4,Special!)
Week 2> Spar. (rolls: 2,1,1,1,no special)
Week 3> Spar. (rolls: 4,2,2,1,no special)
Week 4> Spar. (rolls: 2,2,2,1,no special)

A rather boring month passed by, slowly, almost painfully so. Timie slowed to a crawl as every day seemed just like the previous one. Wake up, stretch, eat, train, eat, train, lecture, eat, train, sleep. There was a comforting regularity in all of this, and Wenlong found himself understanding why those monks on mountaintops slowly lost their interest in outside world. One could really lose oneself in this...

Well, anyone without slightly snaky sounding snarky slivers softly stabbed soul-deep during these slow, steady training sessions.

Oh no, this oaf again as sparring partner. You won't learn anything new today either.

You are aware that one sliver of poison is all it takes to kill that little screaming bitch, right? Oh, look how she flails her hands... amusing.

Oh, another lecture. I wish I had fingers to plug my ears.

You should stop sparring with children, it just builds bad habits. What, you're a child yourself? Huh, this morning I could have sworn I saw an unchildlike tent.

No, that blind guy again. That's just too embarrassing. Yes, I know he isn't really blind, but he keeps tripping whenever he changes directions... see?

No, breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Farting doesn't count as breathing.

Why aren't we at snake mountain again? Hmmm? Are you afraid of little snakes?

Sparring became easier and easier, his external skill increasing at a prodigious pace. Even now no one could really offer any challenge any longer, and sparring with the teacher was simply not done. So Wenlong found himself doing more and more solo practice.

Then, one day something snapped. Suddenly woken from the haze of monotony and trying to not listen to the little snake, Wenlong's eyes went wide at the snapped-in-half tree in front of him. He had spent half an hour just smacking his palm into it, training each one of the six movements of the Six Arhats Combine. Suddenly he tried to do them all at once, and a surge of power integrated every energy stream in hos body into a powerful strike, producing more than double the power he usually managed.

Huh. So that's why this is called Six Old Farts Combine Stinkiness style. Barely usable against children. Pffft. You'd be better off training poison and bamboo style. This is just... child's play.


Total stats:
External - 31+2+2+4+2=41
Internal - 74+1+1+2+2=80
Lightness - 45+1+1+2+2=51
Meridians - 59+2+2+2+1=66

New move: Six Arhats Combine Cannon. +30 to External for one move. Usable if opponent isn't forewarned or familiar with the move.

Options for month 4:

1. Snake forest expedition
   
2. Bamboo style practice
   
3. Even more sparring
   
4. Beast hunting
   
5. Six Arhats Combine practice
   
6. Quiet meditation
   
7. Research opponents for the contest

Only one more month remaining after month 4 for training...
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:26, Sun 24 Oct 2021.

"Alright then!" Early in the fourth month Wenlong growled, in part frustrated by the uselessness of sparring (even if he KNEW it would end up being less than optimal) and in part defeated by the constant nagging: even what would have felt like a pretty good accomplishment (what even was the normal time to understand something like the Six Arhats Combine Cannon? He wasn't entirely sure he could trust the snake's easy dismissal as child's play) ended up drowned in a sea of snark - and of boring, repetitive practice.

"Let it be snakes! Let it be ALL the snakes." By now he was ready to accept just about any compromise for a few weeks of peace and quiet in his own head - and the fact that training at the snake mountain just felt several times more effective than what amounted to rote self-practice at the pavillion didn't exactly help in making the case against it.

Deciding to leave investigation to the last moment (mainly because he wasn't sure he could survive four more weeks of frustrated snake) he packed his things and headed out towards snake mountain, to return only at the very end of the month.

One week: travel
Three weeks: snakes

---

Alright, I'll take the bait: let's see what that poison aura all about... and maybe see what happens at Internal 100 with the last month.

The road to the snake forest seemed much shorter than last time. Each step Wenlong took seemed to be longer and longer until he was almost skating along the twilight-covered trail leading to the Snake Forest. There was no need to suspect the snake princess of aiding him. His swift and almost soundless mode of movement almost startled the life out of a hunter along the way.

The cultivation glade awaited him in the snake forest, along with the crone and all the snakes. Already tempered by two weeks' worth of experience, he quickly maneuvered in between all the currents and eddies of white smoke to find the cultivation spot in the centre of the forest. The sensation was even better than before - like relaxing in a warm ocean, energy continually pouring in through his nose with each inhale, the fog in his dantian throbbing and strengthening with each breath. Scents of the deep forest tickled his nose, rays of sunlight stabbing through the canopies here and there to form a magical atmosphere in the quiet forest.

Inside his dantian, the Snake Princess was stupidly happy. Her lazy blinking coinciding with each pulse of the fog rushing in. Even the bamboo she lived on shook slightly, growing taller and taller under the influx of qi.

At the end of the first week of meditation, there was an explosion inside Wenlong's mind. When the green smoke and light cleared, the green crystal in the back of his mind appeared real and dripping with greenish acidic smelling venom. Green light shone off its silky surface; the thorn-like thing looked more like crystallized poison than anything else. Soft green glowing motes spread over his body in a warm wave, and finally settled in his eyes as a faint green glow. Immediately, a chorus of snake sounds shook the forest, as if greeting the emergence of a snake lord.

Ooooh! Finally! You have your own poison bite. Admirable. It's even powerful enough to kill turtle eggs outright. This will be handy at dinnertime if your soup is not quite dead or spicy enough. Who knows, maybe one day it will be able to harm humans as well. Teehee. You have been an obedient slave, so this princess shall bless your new poison skill with a drop of her own divine blood. Oh, the lengths this princess is prepared to go to for you, a lowly slave. Why aren't you kowtowing yet?

Despite her words, Wenlong was fairly certain that the poison was quite a bit more dangerous than food seasoning - it was probably quite deadly even before she added her own "blessing". And afterwards? He immediately thought of testing the poison, but where and on whom? Perhaps it would even be dangerous if someone saw him use it.

The way home was uneventful. Was every living avoiding his gaze?

He breathed in, deeply, feeling the bamboo tree that had grown to nine zhang and nine chi tall rustle in that immaterial world of his dantian. Like it was on the verge of... something...

(Part 2 coming tomorrow)

---

What bait? You chose your poison yourself :P
External - 41+3=44
Internal - 80+18=98
Lightness - 51+11=62
Meridians - 66+11=77

New Skill: (to be named poison art)

Another reason for the way home being uneventful was the Snake Princess slumbering all day long. It seemed like she overfed. The half-hanging-upside-down pose, slightly bulging tummy and tongue poking out just a bit... these all conspired to make her look exceedingly cute in a fairy-tale-like manner. Of course, it would be unwise to point this out later on when she woke up.

Coming "home" to the Green Forest Pavilion felt anticlimactic. Everything seemed just like before. The houses nestled against the mountain. The view of the village far beneath it. The sparse forest covering the mountain. The faint foggy flows of qi that only Wenlong could see were still in the same place. Morning sunlight touching rooftops with warm fingers.

The smell of a fresh breeze carried a few leaves in just as he was passing the entrance.

The first person Wenlong encountered was Lei Guo, the peacocky sarcastic youth he was quite familiar with already.

"Brother Wenlong! How did your training go?" Lei Guo wanted to come close and pat Wenlong on the shoulder, but stopped while just a step away. Slowly, carefully, the youth took a step back, as if afraid that something might bite him. "What's... wrong with your eyes? Why is there this poisonous pressure emanating from you? Have you been poisoned?"

"He is fine." Ma Liang's clear voice carried a heavy burden of disappointment and fatigue. The old man walked closer, rheumy eyes scanning Wenlong carefully. "He just chose a... darker path of cultivation. There is only one month left to train until the Young Stars competition. Wenlong, I was going to expend the remaining power in our Pavilion's Spirit Pool to aid you... but now, with that poison aura leaking from you, I'm afraid the pool would be ruined if I let you use it.

"Stupid old fart. Who cares about some skinny-dip bathtub? Isn't having this Snake Princess' blessing a million times better than dipping in some stinky pothole? Hmmph!"

"Oh, well. Your growth is still astounding. Even if I can't help but worry for your future. We need to find a way to hide that aura or else there will be no end to your troubles. Come on, there's some breakfast left. You can tell me about your experiences at the table.

---

Wenlong causes poison pressure from now on. He has no way to control it for now.

You need to name your new skill, too ♥ If you wonder where the Spirit Pool comes from, it was mentioned in the very first post of this thread ;)

Options for the last month of practice (pick 4):

1. Snake forest expedition (If you haven't had enough)
   
2. Bamboo style practice (Probably not enough time for that...)
   
3. Sparring? (Better not...)
   
4. Beast hunting (For fun and relaxation - are you relax yet, son?)
   
5. Six Arhats Combine practice (probably not necessary)
   
6. Quiet meditation
   
7. Find a method to suppress the poison aura
   
8. Convince Ma Liang to let you use the Spirit Pool anyways (this might ruin the pool forever)
   
9. Research opponents for the contest

This message was last edited by the GM at 08:12, Fri 29 Oct 2021.

"Yes, brother. I'm fine. I think." He wasn't COMPLETELY sure he was fine, but he certainly didn't feel bad - and he also wasn't sure he could get poisoned even if he tried. Still, he did his best to reassure Lei Guo before addressing Ma Liang "And also yes, learning how to suppress this is absolutely a priority" He had, after all, promised he wouldn't accidentally poison anyone else. Key word: 'accidentally'. "As for the pool, I'm sure there are those who earned it by training here longer and harder than me."

Despite how important it was, he couldn't help but hope that getting the aura in check would not take too long - he really wanted to get at the contest with at least a vague idea of his opponents, and he also needed to figure out just how poisonous his new 'bite' was - ideally not by testing it on one of his fellow disciples, since he wasn't sure he could trust the tiny snake's definition of 'light poison'. How deadly was it? How much control did he have over it? Could he use it to paralyze instead of to kill, like he heard some poisons did? All questions that he needed answered - hopefully before trying it out on another human.

ESPECIALLY before trying it out on another disciple.

And then maybe after he figured out how exactly it worked he could come up with a proper name for it. "..or maybe 'Soup-Flavouring Touch' is fine? What do you think?" He teased the snake a bit through breakfast - that would surely leave an impression on anyone who heard it.

Last month, last plan: getting the aura under control was the priority; if that took the whole month, so be it. If it didn't, Wenlong wanted to spend one week investigating the opponents in the contest in order to not go in completely blind - and any remaining time suppressing his aura and hunting beasts to figure out his new ability.

finding a way to suppress the poison aura was easier than expected. Perhaps it was his innate affinity to poison, or the snake princess, or the time he spent in the snake forest? At any rate, it took Wenlong just one week to be able to suppress the poison aura fully. At the same time, he experimented with the condensed poison. Quickly enough he discovered that the green tooth-shape thing in his dantian acted as a poison reservoir. With minimal expenditure of qi there would be poison welling up from the endpoints of his meridians drop by drop. Equally easily, he could pull the toxin back into his qi channels.

The snake princess was particularly fond of this poisonous sliver hovering in his dantian. Already it was starting to display a sheen from being polished by the small snake again and again. While Wenlong felt no dread towards this thing, he had the strong suspicion any normal person would be terrified.

Pffft. You, a lowly slave, have a lot to learn about literature. This princess shall educate you... thoroughly. But for now, I believe calling it the Snake Forest Essence should suffice. I believe this skill has yet to mature. Right now it's almost like an... embryo. A sweet, cute little thing. I can't wait for it to get eyes and become sentient! Teehee!

The sweet, cute thing  turned out to be insanely poisonous. While out hunting, one single drop was enough to instantly snuff out a grown water buffalo. There didn't seem to be a way to use it in a less lethal manner - the only thing he could control was the amount. And even the tiniest drop seemed fatal to even big animals. As for testing this out on his fellow disciples - after a brief thought about this he rejected the idea.

Somewhere along the way, as he quietly sat in the bamboo forest on the small mountain, he felt a deep sense of peace coming over him. Something connected inside him; there was an almost inaudible explosion, and all the white flows of smoke he took for granted for the last six months suddenly rushed at him, directly into his dantian. The bamboo tree that had been almost ten zhang tall shuddered, and from the ground around it dozens of new bamboo shoots poked out, nourished by the influx of white gas, trembling slightly. About half of this energy was absorbed by the green poison, in turn making it crystalize into an emerald-like, shiny treasure, with the slightest imperfection in its centre.

The Snake princess blinked in satisfaction.

Finally. I was beginning to think that you were defective somehow. A whole six months to get to this stage, no wonder you never managed to pass the entrance exam even to this dogshit ruin of a branch sect. But now that this viper princess took you under her protection, even you, a lowly slave worm, shall grow into an earth dragon. Teehee.

Getting information about the other contestants was far from easy, and Wenlong got only fragmentary rumors.

• Green Forest Pavilion - 12 students - notable students: Lu Xuefeng, Huang Feng / Wenlong already met those
• White Peak Pavilion -27 students - notable students: Leng Nie (cold whisper), Hao Tongkong (White iris)
• Endless Grass Pavilion - 45 students - notable students: Gong Lao (huge mountain o fa man, a bit simple) Tan Gong (endlessly chatty, with no clear advantages...)
• Blue Lake Pavilion - 80 students - notable students: Chi Shuang (Twin pools - might refer to her eyes?)

Ma Liang seemed satisfied that Wenlong managed to hide the poisonous aura. The next week would be devoted to packing and travel preparations, then three weeks of travel. Unlike larger sects, the Pavilion had no workers or outer disciples to guard the place while everyone was gone. But with the place being this far out in the wilderness, nobody was expected to stumble upon it for years - and even then, what could anyone steal here?

---

External - 44+1=45
Internal - 98+4=102
Lightness - 62+2=64
Meridians - 77+6=83

Any extra preparations or last minute ideas before travel?

"Don't even joke about more sentient beings in my dantian! My mind is crowded enough as it is!" The thought of even more voices in his head was not particularly appealing - though he had to admit he had not felt lonely in a while, even after failing to bind too deeply with his new brothers. "Still, a dragon you say." To say the thought was not appealing would be a lie: he wouldn't have spent so much time surrounded by snakes otherwise. "Alright then, miss viper princess. Let's see how high this path goes." He suspected the path passed through 'better learn some finger techniques' town and 'maybe also alchemy' village before reaching anywhere significant, but one step at a time was the only way he could follow it.

Packing his things took next to no time: he came here with nothing, and what he had now was not much more than that - nothing and a change of uniform, maybe. Still, there was work to be done around the pavillion and he could think while moving his hands. Excitement, anticipation, curiosity - and a hint of fear. His practice rounds with the other students would have made him extremely overconfident in his chances at winning the Young Stars Contest - but the near constant nagging in his head about how he was actually just barely passable kept sowing doubts about his actual capabilities, leaving him in a really strange, highly conflicted headspace. He was looking forward to at least solving his doubts at the contest, in one direction or the other. And while the special technique and cultivation resources for the winner were extremely tempting, the forced admission into the Western Thunder Place was a bit less so - or maybe that was just his fear talking.

Last problem: White Peak Pavillion. While with the intensive training of the past months Wenlong had not thought back on the first, unpleasant meeting with Tao Shuren he had not forgotten it - and he had the sneaky suspicion the man had not, either: hoping he'd just file it under 'just one slightly disrespectful youth I shouldn't be concerned about' sounded like a bad plan if Wenlong wanted to be ready, but there was very little he could do to be prepared: just spend the packing and preparing moments working in the same general area as Xion Jian and try to the chatting topic on Shuren. And on how worried he was supposed to be if he had to face one of his students.

This viper princess isn't feeling lonely yet. But in time, some companionship in this space would be welcome. If you, a lowly slave, don't provide some, this princess shall naturally take care of it herself! Teehee!

The little snake blinked lazily, wrapped around the tallest bamboo in what was now slowly becoming a thicket in Wenlong's dantian. With an increase in the number of bamboo stalks, his ability to draw in surrounding qi seemed to increase explosively as well. He could now inhale ten times as much of those white wisps. However, using even a third of this ability completely depleted all the wisps around him. As if the qi density here was far too insufficient for his needs.

His martial brothers and sisters accepted him - but nothing more. Wenlong didn't manage to create an opportunity to bond with them, and most only remembered him from that unfortunate strike and poisoning that almost took a fellow sister's life. The pavilion leader didn't put much emphasis on him either. Perhaps it was envy towards that unnaturally rapid progress? Or a sense of helplessness, because there was no way to significantly help this promising young man. But perhaps there was a third, still hidden reason to Ma Liang's dour mood...

The small group advanced quickly on foot. Their lightness skills made the trip more bearable than one would expect. Wenlong was surprised to see that only the pavilion elder exceeded him in speed. Perhaps, the bunch of students around him really were the scrapings left at the bottom of the barel, just like Tao Shuren had said. In any case , all were traveling lightly, and stopped each evening at an inn to eat and sleep comfortably.

Taking the path down the mountain, through the plains and towards the coast the group advanced at good speed. Walking about a hundred li per day, it would take them about five days to reach the coast and a further day to reach the Blue Lake Pavilion. Ma Liang had planned in a week of rest to get his students into top shape and acquire whatever medicines were prepared for the competition, as well as a week for last preparations. He certainly semed careful and thorough...

Pfffft. The safe road leads to ruin sooner or later. The old stinky frog probably met a frog with a louder fart, and the stinkiness blew him all the way to that dogshit mountain of yours. Not even a lowly slave like you deserves that kind of fate. No, you have to take chances here and there. But don't worry. With this snake princess' keen taste, even a lowly worm like you shall squirm into the richest hole! After all, this princess can't let her slave be bullied by stinky frogs. Teehee.

Traveling had its own Dao to it. Watching landscape shift and transform, clouds float long the sky, the rhythm of steps naturally regulating the flow of qi. Wenlong felt a sense of peace, and for a while even the viper princess was less wordy than usual. She even pointed out some pleasing bamboo groves along the way.

On the evening of the fifth day, in the "Happy Hot Duck" inn, their small group met their competition for the first time. A dozen disciples from the Endless Grass Pavilion. It was easy to recognize them, the uniforms with grass motif being a dead giveaway. Their leader was elder Zhuo Lai, an old fellow with the hands of a farmer and a perpetual squint. The greetings the two groups exchanged were cold, the elders seemingly having no love for each other in particular.

"What bullshit luck. I picked this path to avoid running into them, and still we run into them. Heavens have no eyes, truly." Ma Liang sighed continually while dining with his students. The other group of students commandeered the table at the opposite end of the common room. Even simple travelers were aware of the awkward tension between the two groups, and chose to withdraw. The evening went on for a while, even if punctuated by stares being shot from one to the other camp, and everyone was about to get to bed. Quarters assigned to the pavilions were on opposite sides of the first floor, with two beds per tiny bedroom. Wenlong had just opened the door to his assigned room when the snake princess snickered.

Really, really amusing. These earthworm dogshit disciples are really funny. They dare to use poison insects... laughable. Even most children wouldn't stoop so low. That old fart didn't have farmer's hands from working rice, but from raising bugs it seems. Slave, your bed has been infected with Crimson spirit bedbugs. Unless you want to scratch yourself bloody, avoid lying down there.

Was this an inevitable truth of the world of cultivation? The distance with his fellow disciples only kept growing, and if at the beginning he tried to get closer now he just settled for the same courtesy they offered him. It felt eerily similar to when he wasn't talented enough to make the cut for admission - except now he was on the other side of that wall. The emotional distance only grew during the trip, as Wenlong ended up spending a good part of the travel time a small distance away from the group, together with them but not really with them. Still, he managed to find the time to tour a few pretty cool bamboo groves, so all was good - hopefully this didn't mean he was doomed to spending the rest of his future ONLY talking to snakes.

This peaceful sense of detachment was probably why he didn't pay particular mind to the students of the other Pavillion - even if he probably should have.
"Would they really want to bite me?" He didn't have a precise grasp on his abilities, but he surely knew most living creatures tended to stay a fair distance away - at least if he stopped holding back his poison aura.

"They're not snakes, but they're still poison. Can we make use of them? Or, well, I wouldn't dare feed this snake royalty anything less than the purest snake qi, so can I make use of them?" Hopefully the answer wouldn't involve soup: he knew that some insects were useful for medicine - he just had no idea if these were, or how.

"Brother, wait a moment." He addressed his roommate for the night. "There's something strange with the room. Please give me a moment to find out more. Can I ask you to go to our brothers and sisters to tell them to be careful while I do?" He didn't know if the viper princess had ideas, but she had yet to make a single suggestion where a witness wasn't a problem - and someone actually HAD to warn the others.

If the other beds had bugs it might cause some bad blood between the sects - but so would half his brothers waking up bloody in the first place. This pettiness was very different from how he imagined a cultivator's life to be - this seemed to be exactly the cultivator version of a prank with bugs in bed.

A prank? If you can swallow having your cultivation halted for months on end and suffering incessant pain for days, with a chance of being disfigured is your idea of a prank, then yes. Insect cultivation is something undertaken by talentless, gutless idiots. That kind of poison aims at being debilitating at best, or aiding in digestion at worst. About the only good point about insect cultivation is that it requires no innate skill or guidance, just a lot of time and corpses. These arts aren't anything that should catch the eye of this princess' slave. As for its medicinal use, if you need to expel parasites from someone's bowels, they might do a good job... but so do medicinal plants. Insects are something to be looked down upon. The slightest jolt of your snake poison qi and a mountain of them would have to accept death. Hmph.

The quick warning Wenlong sent to the other disciples resulted in the total failure of this plot. The group gathered in the hallway, discussing these insects and how they just magically seemed to appear in their beds, when someone noticed the disciples of the Green Grass Pavilion peeking from around a corner.

"What, have you come to gloat?" someone yelled.

"Don't throw around accusations needlessly!" came the reply.

"You turtle's eggs, do you think we're blind? Come out and let me give you a beating!" an angry Huan Feng (the girl Wenlong almost killed with poison) had to be restrained lest she charge into the other group.

"Well, you're ugly and have shit for brains, no wonder you're unmarried!" The reply came quickly, acidly.

Ma Liang stood there with his fists clenched, lips pressed together into a thin line. Anger and indecisiveness played around in the old man's eyes. Perhaps Wenlong's words and influence were just the thing to tip the balance ...

1) make them fight?
2) make towards a peaceful solution?

And even then, there wass the option of using his poison in a creative way, either to kill off the parasites in the beds, or get even with the other students. Or do something even more drastic...

Wenlong stepped in the fray before violence started - more importantly, he stepped into the fray before his own side started violence."Brothers, sisters... let's not rush judgement. I'm sure the noble disciples of the great Green Grass Pavilion would never resolve to such weak, pathetic, worthless tricks as bugs in beds. I mean: any talentless, gutless idiot can dig for an insect or two, and I'm sure this is well below what fellow cultivators would do. Maybe someone with bowel problems just forgot their medication around?" He offered the other disciples a smile, no less venom in that grin and his words than in his dantian as he continued to mercilessly shovel insults on them: without taking responsibility, they had no real way to counter. The snake princess was an absolute treasure trove whenever he wanted to piss someone off.

"And beyond the actual useless method, just how much of a coward would someone have to be to strike without taking responsibility for it? Only the absolutely worst scum would do that! Don't you all agree with me?" He addressed the Green Forest students directly. Attacking now would be admitting what they did... while agreeing with him would just be just insulting themselves, as everyone on the scene knew.

He was okay with either result.

Crooked beams above cause crooked beams below. While elder Zhuo Lai might not have been directly responsible for the "bedbugs", his low moral character shone through his treasured disciples. Bravery was not one of their outstanding characteristics, letting Wenlong and his company drew some conclusions from that.

Wenlong's incensing words caused the opposing disciples to shout even more loudly. This in turn fired on his own side to come up with more colorful insults rather than resort to violence. One word led to another, and soon enough the whole affair degenerated into spittle-slinging, shouting and finger-pointing. At least until the inn's host came up and reminded his treasured guests to shut the fuck up or be thrown out into the cold night. That was the trigger for the two elders to step in and herd their respective disciples away. Ma Liang somehow had insecticide powder already prepared, for some reason. One might have called it foresight, or experience.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, even if most disciples felt a phantom itching and scratching despite being sure there were no actual insects anywhere on them. By the time the Green Forest disciples gathered in the common room, the Endless Grass disciples were already gone from the inn. This was probably for the best - but gave everyone an even worse impression of Elder Zhou's character.

The little snake blinked contentedly. While she did murmur something about poisoning, she also had a clear idea that not every encounter should end in a bloodbath. Not attracting too much attention was also a good idea.

Leaving the Happy Hot Duck, the group continued on a well-trodden path leading down. The salty scent of the sea became strong even before its azure shimmer became visible through the morning fog. Sunlight shimmered off wave-tops, seagulls cried above head, fishing boats bobbed gently - the surroundings conferred a sense of peace and leisure as the group advanced along the coast.

After a day of strolling the group slowly came up to their destination. The Blue Lake Pavilion was built upon a mile-wide boulder that looked like a giant had placed it onto the otherwise flat and placid shore. A small village had come into being around the boulder, signifying that the number of disciples had grown large enough to support an outer sect. The boulder had been carved with staircases, cultivator caves, tiny parks and buildings, its top dominated by a large plaza.

Half a dozen blue-clad disciples waited a couple of li away from the sect to receive them. Their leader was a tall, pale man with a pockmarked face. He clasped his hands and bowed slightly in greeting.

"This lowly one has the privilege to receive honored guests to their accommodations. If honored guests have any wishes, please let this lowly one know them."

Surprisingly, the words sounded natural and honest, with no guile or double meanings despite extreme politeness.

Several simple cultivator caves halfway up the boulder were prepared for the Green Forest disciples. Each was just a room with a bed, table and several chairs, but all were clean and well maintained. The view over the sea was an added bonus. Qi was much more plentiful here, at least double the density Wenlong was used to. Inside his dantian, the bamboo stalks began to grow perceptibly.

Wenlong had an opportunity to stay in the cave and absorb as much qi as possible in preparation for the contest; or he could use the time to explore the sect some more; or perhaps he might find some trouble for disciples of other sects?

Not exactly a cathartic ending with the Endless Grass Pavilion, but probably a good thing: no real need to solve things with a punch-out when good, old-fashioned insults could be enough. Of course, what he had just insulted to start it all was Elder Zhou sect's Cultivation methods right in front of him, so he doubted he made a new friend that night. With his own sect still pretty cold towards him and Tao Shuren still... somewhere, perhaps his tongue was proving a bit too sharp for his own good.

Days later they finally reached their destination, with the new sights and smells doing wonders to distract Wenlong from the apparently ever-growing list of people he threw verbal jabs at. After thanking the one who welcomed them he headed to the cave that was to be his home, dropped his meager belongings and settled in to meditate and prepare until the start of the contest: soon he'd be in important fights, his first serious ones since he entered this world - so staying put and taking advantage of the favorable atmosphere to squeeze in a few last hours of practice was the best use of the time he had...
...
...
...or so he wanted to think, the idea holding him focused enough to nearly complete one set of breathing exercises.

First time in a new place, with all the worldly experience he had accumulated in his lifetime as a village boy? No way he'd ever manage to stay put: kicking himself up from the meditating position he headed for the exit with a brisk step. Places to be, people to meet - he had to get it out of his system, or it'd be too much of a distraction for decent practice anyway! Or at least he decided that was the official excuse.

He headed up, walking in the direction of the big central plaza and stopping to sightsee at the small parks or to check out the buildings - noting the differences with his own Green Forest Pavilion while trying (with mixed success) to avoid looking like a lost tourist. For the first time the difference in size really sunk in: less than half the partecipating students of the next biggest school (to say nothing of the difference with Blue Lake Pavilion itself) was not simply a matter of student numbers, but in... well, he could only sum it up as 'infrastructure'. Of resources one could funnel into the best pupils, and - apparently - of plainly superior environment for Qi-gathering.
For a moment he had a sneaky suspicion that they were welcomed with such polite courtesy simply because they were seen more as guests and witnesses to the greatness of others than real contenders for any meaningful prize - then the new sights (and the smell of street food) dragged him back to his exploration.

As he walked he made a point to try and avoid people with the uniforms of White Peak and Endless Grass pavilions: in a contest between four schools, it was probably already an achievement one could be dubiously proud of to have two start pissed off at him with less than a year of cultivation under his belt.
In Wenlong's defense, he was not actively looking for trouble, but people deserving of trouble kept finding him!

...hopefully he could at least manage to avoid offending the Blue Lake Pavilion before the contest started?
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Tue 01 Feb 2022.

Laozi, on behalf of Zhu Wenlong, rolled 53 using 1d100.  Luck. More is better.
Seems like nothing special will happen... for now. *dramatic foreshadowing*

---

For once, Wenlong's luck wasn't horrible. He made a rather good impression of a village idiot encountering civilization for the very first time, gawking and staring slack-jawed at the wonders of cultivation. Parks engulfed in gentle twinklings of zither music; upwards-flowing waterfalls; bridges made of semi-translucent bricks spanning yard-wide cracks in the boulder; vendors offering tiny spirit fruits that exploded with taste in one's mouth. To Wenlong, the wonders and amazements of this place were innumerable. His uniform and behaviour clearly marked him, and let others' attitude towards him tilt towards condescension that masqueraded as benevolent neglect. After all, this was the archetypical poor, dumb relative coming to visit, no? Poor guy, so out of his depth...

After an hour or two of this, the snake princess almost couldn't hold her poison back.

Insufferable! Simply insufferable! If I didn't need to keep a low profile I'd have drowned them and this pile of dogshit sect in poison ten times already! Damned smelly frogs, acting so high and mighty towards this princess! Slave, we have to return some time in the future and stomp this stinky rock into the ground! Hmmph!

Wenlong's meanderings had just brought him to the plaza on top the huge boulder when the princess had her little monologue. The plaza looked quite like the central square in the Green Forest Pavilion. The white, green, yellow, red and black patterns Wenlong was intimately familiar with were replaced with glazed bricks in various hues of blue. Also, the area of the plaza was many times that of the familiar spot in the mountains...

...and then Wenlong realized, he just might invite a calamity by breathing in too deeply. As it was back in the mountains, this area served as focus for threads of qi, and his very presence made those thin threads of smoke tremble and gravitate closer to him. The density of these smoke threads was at least twice what he was used to.

Thinking about him, he managed to see a blue-robed elder explain the rules of the competition again to some youngsters. "The winner of the Young Stars competition will have gained the rights to special cultivation resources, a special technique, and direct acceptance into student ranks of the Western Thunder palace. Second place will net a technique and direct acceptance. Third through fifth placed students win only direct acceptance into the student ranks of the palace... This might not seem like a lot to you now, but know that it's otherwise quite difficult to get a spot there. Realistically, winning the competition is the only practical way to do so for you. As for rules of the competition - there aren't many, but killing is strictly prohibited, and causing permanent injuries needlessly is frowned upon. Pavilion heads will do the judging, as well as a special emissary from the Western Thunder Palace. Hmmm. I believe I covered all the main points. Questions?" The elder stroked his white beard with a self-important, pleased smile.

On one hand, Wenlong felt like he should have taken offense at the treatment he was receiving. On the other hand... well, it was true that he had never seen an upwards-flowing waterfall. Was he even supposed to have seen one before? Still, some manner of damage control on the viper princess mood could only help. The topic? The only one he could be sure of. He stopped a few moments after reaching the plaza, looking in the direction of the sea.

"So. I hear some seas and coasts have snakes too? Bright and coloured like rainbows, but with venom as deadly as any on land. Excluding Your Royal Snakeness, of course - on both counts." The time spent training amid snakes in the forest had left its mark, as he nearly found himself continuing with 'What does their qi taste like?' before settling for a more normal "Can you tell me anything about them?" Plenty of time to become creepily snake-obsessed later on. Even if he was hardly sure he could hide the slip-up from someone talking direcly in his head in the first place.

Snakes or no snakes, he finally reached the top... and immediately froze, unable to even breathe - especially unable to breathe. Was this his chance to anger the one remaining sect and get accused of more heresy? Still, better to find out now than during the contest itself. Shallow breathing, light steps and he could maybe function like a normal human. Even if the temptation of just breathing in as deep as he could (maybe not with witnesses around) was ever-present in the back of his mind.

However, 'function like a normal human being' and 'able to fight without causing a diplomatic accident' weren't necessarily the same. He looked around, hoping to spot someone going through individual practice: if that wasn't frowned upon, maybe he could run through a few sets of exercises to get accustomed to moving in a qi-heavier environment. Instead of practice he stumbled upon a recap lecture for the contest, one hardly revealing things he didn't already know. Maybe he wasn't aware of the details of the ranking system, but 'first place gets the best prize' was a given everywhere. With little to ask and even less willingness to attract attention to himself he didn't even think of raising his hand, instead giving a cursory glance at the group to see if he spotted anyone resembling the description of the contestants he heard of.
If only Blue Lake students were attending, his whole list was 'Twin Pools' girl. Grandmaster investigator!

Laozi, on behalf of Zhu Wenlong, rolled 99 using 1d100.  second time is a charm. The more the better.
so, a very good, very special result, with two nines? Ooh this will be fun!

---

There was just the slightest rustling sound as the snake princess slowly, lazily shifted her body. Coiled tightly as she was around the thickest bamboo in Wenlong's dantian space, she looked every bit the ruler of this whole little universe. Her scales bright splotches of color in the green hazy world. The emerald poison crystal he acquired in the Snake Forest orbited slowly around the tree, glistening with what Wenlong knew was lethal poison.

Of course, there are sea snakes. Their poison is passable - just enough for killing pigs and other small-toothed livestock. But have no fear. Under the guidance of this viper princess, you've already acquired immunity to their poison. Were it not for your great fortune of meeting me, you'd die even from catching a whiff of their bile. Those sneaky cousins like to hide in water, so look for ambushes. Hmm? What's that music?

Soft zither sounds filled the air of the plaza. People quieted down and turned to listen in amazement. As if the sound was enough to calm the heart and soften rage. Instantly, all the gathered students from various sects formed their own thoughts about this music. Perhaps this was the legendary soul-calming music that allowed cultivators to shed distractions and focus on their Dao? Perhaps the instrument itself was a rare magical treasure? Perhaps this was an echo of the Pavilion protecting magical formation? There was a special quality to the music, making the green crystal in Wenlong's dantian space vibrate in resonance. The viper princess looked sharply, eyes gleaming with inner light.

Poison! Extremely well hidden! Deep in the music... how insidious! Watch out for whoever is playing this!

Wenlong blinked and turned around, to face the source of the music.

Blue.

He blinked again, instinctively using the full strength of his internal cultivation to avoid falling forward into the endless blue that threatened to swallow him whole. There was the slightest, briefest sound of glass breaking. His vision cleared in half a heartbeat, and he found himself locked in a staring contest with a zither-playing girl. A pair of endlessly deep blue eyes; elegant eyebrows; midnight hair; red lips; porcelain skin. She was beautiful enough to bring ruin to kingdoms and make Buddhas kneel. A trace of surprise made her face lose a bit of its immortal beauty, and turned her from an impossibly distant jade statue into a surprised young girl.

The zither before her grew silent, its last sounds softly dying down. One of the strings had broken in the very moment the two locked gazes.

Like some sort of spell had been broken, the gathered students and elders started talking, all at once, praising the music and sighting at how the string had broken just now, filling the suddenly empty air with sounds of human voices. Clearly the instrument she used was not ordinary - made of polished wood that seemed to be dark blue in colour, and when looked at from the right direction seemed like frozen waves. The zither girl wore the Blue Lake Pavilion uniform.

A dozen seconds later, Wenlong was still staring into her eyes. This made the slightest blush creep onto her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to tend to her zither. Working quickly to free the broken string from the frame, she managed to flash a short gaze up at him again a few seconds later, but looked away right after that, the blush on her cheeks intensifying.

Slut. The viper princess' verdict was quick and mercilessly poisonous. Then again, not being a stinky animal or insect was a huge compliment coming from this snake.

Then someone bumped into Wenlong. A big, muscular disciple wearing blue clothes and a barely concealed sneer. "Stop staring at eldest sister Chi. It's impolite. Some of us might decide to teach you a lesson for offending our goddess."

"Ah, come on... I'm sure I saw you sway to her music. Could it be the legendary song of a snake charmer?" THAT, at least, explained the 'Twin Pools' bit.

At a later time, Wenlong would wonder how one could lace venom into music and marvel at the potential applications of a proper poison as a subtle tool. He'd also wonder about the exact effects of the girl's poison: used so brazenly in public it couldn't possibly deadly like his - maybe something closer to a drug, a venom to addle the mind?

At a later time because on the moment he was, to be honest, way too busy wondering about the scent of that midnight hair, about the softness of her skin and about other things a healthy boy would naturally wonder about when facing such heart-shattering beauty. He was distracted, to say the least - so distracted he didn't even notice the other until he bumped into him.

Don't start a brawl.

Wenlong opened his mouth to answer, and stopped himself just in time as he noticed he was about to simply vocalize a confused-sounding "Blue" for answer. He closed his mouth, looking for a moment like a fish fresh out of water. By the time he opened it again his wits were back.

Don't start a brawl.

"Your words enlighten and humble this one, wise brother!" Wenlong bent himself into a quick bow in front of the bigger student, speaking with excessive humility. Coincidentally, the bow lasted just long enough to give him time to try and check if 'some of us' was actually just this guy or if he had cronies. "Entranced by the music, this one did not properly consider the right course of action. Thanks for the advice - this one will immediately remedy the situation." Every word was absolutely sincere - it was simply the meaning of 'right course of action' that probably was not what the two agreed on: as soon as the other showed an opening (perhaps to enjoy his small victory), Wenlong shamelessly sidestepped him, blatantly ignoring him as he walked at a brisk step straight towards the girl who could only be Chi Shuang. He hoped for the other's shock to earn him a few steps - and he also hoped he wouldn't dare just straight-up tackle him in front of his idol.

Not that he had the slightest idea how to break the ice with the girl, of course. He'd figure something out.

Don't start a brawl.

Probably something that would start a brawl.

Feh. That music is far from being able to affect this snake princess. Other people in earshot, however... they've already been affected by that slut's mind-numbing poison. How brazen of her. Does she think that no one will notice? That zither in her hands seems to be made from a a poison sea dragon scale. Someone clearly had good fortune, heh. if you were to acquire the instrument, this princess can suck its poison essence dry in a heartbeat. It's an insignificant snack at best, but tasty nonetheless. Do your best, slave.

Do your best to not look like an idiot, too. Close your mouth and wipe your drool. Your behaviour reflects badly on your owner. This viper princess has her dignity.

Wenlong made his glib-tongued maneuver and slipped past the first brute, only to find himself surrounded by no less than half a dozen more. These looked at him with no little amount of disgust, and the way he was searching for their idol with his filthy gaze made them bristle even more. The crystallized poison in his dantian grew excited, as if sensing an opportunity to strike out.

It was hard to determine which one of the seven threw the first punch. He would later remember using leaf steps and bending like bamboo, wondering why the ruffians seemed so heavy-footed and clumsy. In the end he had to focus more on calming his agitated Snake Forrest Essence than on his "opponents". After all, killing them all with poison would be bad behavior, unbecoming of a guest in their sect (and reflecting badly on the snake princess...). So it was that the seven oafs were left behind, stunned expressions flowering on their faces. One of them actually managed to land a punch; Wenlong's internal skill made it so the man felt as if he had punched cotton, the punch resulting in no injury at all. The immediate surroundings grew quiet, students and elders alike gaping at the display of lightness and inner strength.

Then everything stopped. The blue-eyed girl was just a few steps in front of Wenlong, eyebrows raised quizzically. Perhaps she was intrigued by his skill - or just surprised by the sheer audacity of his approach. Still holding the blue zither. Unmoving expression hiding her true thoughts as he looked into the endless abysses of her eyes. He could actually smell her refreshing scent from here... or was it only wishful thinking?

The slut will be even more surprised when she sees your tool, slave. Teehee.

What now?

In the end, he did start a brawl after all. Or at least a brawl was started at him, and he could only hope it made a sliver of difference when people came to ask questions. From what he had seen so far of this world he doubted it, but with no serious injuries nobody was probably going to REALLY care about it.

The ruffian's attempt to block his path was valiant, but ultimately futile: like a gentle wind trying to keep a leaf from reaching the ground - maybe in the end he took a little more to reach the girl and followed a longer, irregular path, but there was nothing they could actually do to stop him. They ended up careening into one another much more often than they brushed against him. "Now, don't be hasty - a snake can only be eaten once, but its poison can be milked for a long while. Let's see what happens."

In the frozen instant of time before he opened his mouth, he tried to recall if he knew something - anything, really, about zither music. Perhaps hoping for martial arts training to somehow enlighten him on the nature of noble arts. Of course, nothing of the sorts happened: if the Green Forest Pavilion even HAD a tradition for music, in the short time he spent with them they had only focused on teaching him martial forms.

"- Beautiful" The problem was only compounded by the fact that he was finding his tongue only glib when it came to rousing ire to himself, a talent of questionable utility. He blamed the viper princess and her... interesting character... for this: with her company, she was rubbing off on him. He was offering the girl a little bow, not even deep enough for him to break contact with her eyes. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could if he tried - so he didn't even try, leaving unnerving green locked into deepest blue. "I mean, the music. Beautiful. I've never se- heard something so beautiful."

A moment of silence, during which he reminded himself that breathing was kind of useful in order to be able to talk. Do introductions. You can do introductions, you idiot! "My name is Zhu Wenlong, I'm one of the disciples of Green Forest Pavilion." Apparently 'talking to pretty girls' and 'mantaining full courtesy' weren't two things he could handle together, since he switched back to first person after the episode with the bigger boy. "Without these older brothers' kind encouragement I'd never have mustered the courage to offer my compliments -" He broke eye contact for a fraction of a second, just enough to be sure he wasn't about to be ambushed AGAIN. After spotting one or two of the boys doing their best to look like immobile parts of the background, he allowed half a playful grin to cross his lips. "- But I hope I'll get to hear it again before we depart."

The beautiful girl stared, wide-eyed, right into the green of Wenlong's eyes. A bit of a snakelike, hypnotic shimmer caught her eyes there, making her defenses fall for the briefest moment. Expressions shifted on her face like changing seasons in a year that lasted for a heartbeat... almost like the harmonies of a deliberate song on her beloved instrument.

Amazement, at how this young man moved. The way he side-slipped some punches, and the punch that landed having no effect at all.

Anger, at the familiar way he started speaking. It had been years since anyone had done something like this. Who did he think he was? Even listening to a country bumpkin was a loss of status for her!

Shame, after the misspoken word of his sunk in, making her instinctively hunch her shoulders and try to make herself less conspicuous, like a simple peasant girl might do.

Surprise, after realizing that he really was from the bottom-most Pavilion. Despite the clothing being a dead giveaway, and this in turn making her doubt her own mind at this moment.

Amusement, at him twisting the obvious into something absurd yet impishly entertaining.

Finally, a frown wiped the emotions on her face away as she finally got hold of herself, expression returning to a neutrally pleasant one. It took her half a breath's time to make her heartbeat slow down into its usual rhythm, and make the slight blush on her cheeks disappear. After all, she couldn't allow herself such a show of weakness - not here in this place, where a thousand pairs of eyes gauged her every motion.

Inside, flames of anger burnt hot and high. Losing control of herself like this... unforgivable! Completely unforgivable! Cultivating a dao heart with such an unreliable soul is impossible! How could she have slipped? The punishments her mentor would heap on her... a cold shiver ran up her spine.

Yet, when she looked up at those green eyes, she couldn't stop her heart from trembling again. In this situation, she didn't trust herself to speak. Instead. she just coughed lightly and nodded, as if in answer to Wenlong's question. With quick, practiced motions (a bit too quick, perhaps, her fingertips trembling ever so slightly, hurrying to get away from this situation) she wrapped the instrument up in dark blue satin. She caught herself being unwilling to break eye contact with Wenlong. This in turn made her even more angry at herself.

While this takes a while to describe, in actuality it was no longer than a moment.

Then again, moments change lives irrevocably...

This slut is quite talented at seduction. Her talents extend to other things, too, judging by the width of her hips. Teehee. The snake princess' judgement was quick and merciless.

A soft snort broke the magic between the two youngsters. A tall, white-bearded elder of the Blue Lake Pavilion put a heavy hand on Chi Shuang's shoulder. Her expression froze.

"Enough fooling around. You kids will have time to talk later. Shuang'er, we need to go see the Sea Priestess."

Before leaving, the man squinted appraisingly at Wenlong, then nodded in approval. "Not bad, not bad. It's unfortunate that you didn't get better training - who knows how much farther you could have progressed if you had different coloured robes?" The elder winked, and walked off with Chi Shuang in tow.

This left Wenlong, a dozen bullies and hundreds of spectators in the huge plaza. Some standing quietly, others discussing music, martial arts, food, and bashing in the face of the hick who dared to defile their Goddess.

What now?

"I look forward to talking more later -" Wenlong replied to the first comment of the elder while flat-out ignoring the second. Nothing good would come from challenging his judgment of his sect - and it probably was an objectively true statement, in any case. Instead he uttered the next words right as Chi Shuang turned to leave, under his breath but making sure she couldn't miss them. "- a date, then."
The elder probably heard as well - Wenlong wasn't under the impression of being able to hide a real message. From the quick exchange, it just didn't look like he'd hold the teasing against him.

Hey, it's my masterful padronance of the smooth arts of seduction you should be praising! As the other two turned to leave he addressed the viper princess while bidding farewell to the gathered, gossiping crowd with an exaggerated bow - not unlike an entertainer thanking his crowd after a successful show.
Then he immediately moved to get the hell away from there before they could get through the stages of confusion and decide to try and beat him up again - perhaps this time calling for someone actually able to do so. So. Now I think all three of White Peak, Endless Grass and Blue Lake have their reasons to make me want to swallow my own teeth. It's not like he was running, headed for one of the parks on the massive boulder. He was simply applying just enough lightness skills to very briskly walk towards his destination. For reasons entirely unrelated to wanting to leave as much space and obstacles between himself and the... helpful older brothers. I have no idea how that could happen, I'm absolutely lovable. Soon he found himself surrounded by green, and his gaze was unimpeded as it fell on the sea, once more marveling at the size and wonder. Any last minute tips from the wisest of all snakes, or do I just grit my teeth and hope to walk away with my perfect smile still intact?

He was reasonably confident - the last bout proved him he was on a completely different level from the standard disciples, to the point where making sure he didn't accidentally kill them was more of a chore than actually defeating them. But he wouldn't have minded one last burst of improvement, just to be on the safe side. After catching his breath and refocusing he turned away - headed once more towards the stalls and markets. Despite the confirmed feeling of superiority, this meeting had higlighted a flaw that no amount of dumb luck or natural talent could overcome: the time spent training all sorts of accessory arts was not something that could be faked: zither for the girl, but not limited to that: herbalism and alchemy, zoology and medicine - and all sorts of helpful notions any real poison use would have, without even taking the unexpected into account: you could poison sound?

Unless the viper had better training plans he could only wander the markets and hope for a stroke of ridiculous luck: a local plant that attracted his inner snake's attention, sold by someone willing to talk about it and where it could be found - or overheard chatter about nearby groves of snakes. Heh. Maybe I should get a flower too?

With no improbable twists of fate to distract him, he was ready to at the very least return to his assigned dwelling and finally finish the breathing practice he interrupted to play tourist.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:18, Tue 29 Mar 2022.

However improbable it seemed, Wenlong got a few quiet days. To be honest, the lack of sudden challenges or trouble just popping up was more than a bit unnerving. By now, he should have been the butt of countless attempts at violence and worse... but somehow... he simply had the time to enjoy the sights, eat spirit fruits, and meditate. After a while, everything somehow got boring - even the snake princess found the sect less and less annoying, with fewer and fewer sharp comments to offer about everything and everyone.

No other significant cultivators appeared to entertain him either.

So, Wenlong returned to his cave and his breathing exercises. The plentiful qi here made it so the practice was intoxicating, and he had to stop himself each time before driving his body to exhaustion.

Time passed. He felt the qi inside him thicken, the snake princess basking in the increased flow. Compared to the time in the mountains, the amount of qi available in his abode here was tenfold, and increasing every day. Thick wisps of smoke became visible as he inhaled them; the snake even seemed overfed at times, its tummy sticking out ever so slightly as she rested on her back on a bamboo branch.

It was the cutest thing, but no sensible person would have mentioned that, right?

The crystallized poison in Wenlong's dantian space seemed to slowly strengthen as well. Ever since it caught a whiff of poisoned music it started emitting various soft sounds. These ranged from the softest crystalline tinkling akin to glass fracturing in slow motion, to sounds of leaves being cut by a sharp blade. Only once had in produced a sharp shriek, after which the crystal seemed ashamed and hid itself behind the thickest bamboo tree for a while.

More time passed.

Things were too good to be true, of course. Above his cave, a vortex of whitish motes visible by naked eye rotated unstoppably, sucking in more and more spiritual energy from the surroundings. Things hadn't progressed to the point where sect elders would intervene, but Wenlong did cause quite a few people to take notice of him.

Look, it's that bastard who defiled our Goddess with his drivel. Now he's shamelessly stealing the resources of our sect. It would have been fine if he took just a little bit... but this is far too excessive! I can't wait until big sister teaches him a lesson on the day of the tournament. Did you know he even asked her on a date? Yes, a date! Some guys are already collecting poison snakes to pour into his cultivation cave, are you coming too? Great!

So it was a little bit later that a literal boatload of poisonous sea snakes were poured into Wenlong's cultivation cave.

Lunch! the snake princess uttered, causing the initially ferocious sea snakes to suddenly freeze and very, very slowly and carefully crawl backwards. Wenlong had never seen a snake crawl backwards, and this seemed thoroughly unnatural. Not to mention the expressions in their shiny eyes...

Leave your poison here before you go, little brats, and know your limits from now on, the snake princess said in the softest voice. The rapidly retreating now toothless sea snakes didn't dare to raise any objection.

So it happened that in addition to pure qi Wenlong was blessed with an increase to his poison qi base as well. Truly, this sect treated its guests exceedingly well!

Only a day was left until the competition. Time really did fly, and he felt almost as if waking up from a dream.

Are there any particular plans Wenlong has for the bouts, special combinations, or advice he wants to ask of anyone?

(new stats: External - 46 Internal - 122 Lightness - 66 Meridians - 91)

Such boundless generosity on part of his hosts, granting Wenlong an absolute bounty of precious cultivation resources! He'd have to make sure to repay every favour at least threefold in the coming contest.

Even as the growing amount of independent thinking going on in his dantian left him a vague sense of unease, he couldn't help but be curious about the new activity of the poison crystal and - as much as he could and against any remaining semblance of common sense - encouraged the experiments.

As for the competition itself, he was looking forward to it with a strange mixture of emotions: as much as he had yet to meet a real peer among the other disciples (with the possible exception of Chi Shuang herself), he couldn't help but worry about his lack of actual experience. At least that doubt was about to solve itself and give him peace of mind, one way or another.

In another life, maybe he could have made decent friends with the other students of the Pavilion and planned something with them. As it was, his best (and, possibly, only) sources of last-minute advice were the snake princess and master Ma Liang. With the viper not exactly shy at making her advice known, he decided to instead ask the old master for wisdom of the last moment.

Ma Liang stabbed a stare from beneath bushy white eyebrows right into Wenlong's eyes. Behind him, the few students of Green Forest engaged in noisy sparring matches. Days seemed to shorten as the date of the competition neared, and there was a sense of urgency rising in all the participants. Apart from Wenlong, that is.

"Hmph, at least you kept your poison aura at bay. See, you're fantastically gifted and able to cultivate freely with no hindrances, at least as far as I can see. This in itself makes you a threat to other cultivators near your level. They might be simply jealous - but even the rational ones who take into account the longer perspective will realize that you'll overtake them in cultivation base in no time at all. So... keep a low profile for the time being."

There was no real tactics or strategy to be discussed. The Young Stars competition was a series of duels, participants determined by coin toss.

Yet again, as it had been usual in the past months, Wenlong lucked out. He draw the very first match, and his opponent turned out to be among the weakest of the Endless Grass students- a short and skinny fellow named Te Sung. So it happened that our young hero found himself standing on a rectangular leitai five zhang to the side and two chi high. The opponent was nevertheless quite confident. Wenlong didn't want to fight back in the inn during the "Happy Hot Duck", and this was certainly a sign of weakness, right? So Te Sung stomped his feet against the white tiles of the leitai and dropped into a fighting stance, callused fists up.

The stands were mostly empty, with a few dozing competitors waiting for their matches and several bored disciples comprising the whole of the viewership. In a stealthy place above the viewing stands, from behind a curtain, a pair of deep blue eyes followed Wenlong's movements with embarrassed interest.

How much of his skill and power did Wenlong use during the match? Barely enough to win, or enough to shock everyone? Keeping the poison hidden was a no-brainer...
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:33, Thu 26 May 2022.

"Well - I did give my word I would learn to keep it in check." Probably not the way the elder (or any self-respecting member of a properly righteous sect) would have preferred, but while Wenlong was far from calling his ability to wield poison 'mastered' he was still moderately optimistic he wouldn't use it on people by mistake.
Hopefully.
Better not to dwell too long on the thought.

Now - the real question was: how was he supposed to hold back enough to more or less appear 'normal' while also managing to avoid looking like he was just playing with his opponent to wiser eyes in the audience?
At least the first opponent didn't seem like trouble.

"Did you find the poor guy with bowel problems who lost his medicine in our room?" Wenlong asked with a hint of a smile as he gave his opponent a bow and took his own position. He wasn't going to make friends in any case - getting people to make mistakes was an acceptable alternative. "It would be terrible if he never got his bugs in the end."

His own position almost mirrored the other fighter, completely eschewing the Bamboo style to focus exclusively on what he learned of the Six Arhats Combine. It didn't come as natural to him and the viper princess didn't like it, but this was the best starting point to hide his talent.

Inhaling deeply, he prepared to fight in a way he wasn't naturally gifted for: straight lines instead of circles, hard blocks instead of deflections and absorptions - straight punches instead of palm strikes and arm-whips.

Laozi, on behalf of Zhu Wenlong, got the result "You may rely on it" on the magic 8-ball.  is wenlong going to fool anyone?
so yes, uninteresingly main character-like.

---

The bout went on for an average amount of time, with the action barely worthy of description. Even on a good day, the Endless Grass disciple had less than half of Wenlong's body strength. With external strength being the least powerful of Wenlong's attributes, that was more than telling of the difference in their power. Unsurprisingly, the audience yawned collectively. The hidden figure watched with narrowed eyes, deeply suspecting some sort of foul play but unable to confirm any suspicions. The elders in charge were barely awake during the "fight". Even the poison crystal, prone to making different kinds of noise in Wenlong's dantian, seemed to doze in a fit of boredom...

Pretending to be harmless is an useful skill, of course. Seems we've found something you're good at that doesn't involve talking rubbish, haha! Now, if you hadn't demonstrated that you're much more able back while chasing that slut around, you might have fooled intelligent people as well. Instead, now it's the idiots looking down on you, the intelligent people laughing and the powerful ones dismissing you outright. But you've done allright for now, slave.

The rest of the fights went on during the slow morning. Surprisingly, the White Peak disciples came out on top despite not showing up with the most people. Much murmuring of unfair tactics aimed against water techniques and exploiting the innate advantage ice techniques had against water ones was heard, but all is fair in ove and war, no? After all, this contest was to be a sharpening tool for the young generation. The Green Forest Pavillion students did amazingly well for themselves, winning two thirds of their fights, and every fight against the Endless Grass. This provoked much gloating and ridicule among them, and even Ma Liang wasn't immune to turning his nose up a bit. In fact, the Endless Grass students suffered the most losses, a fact that even the most casual onlooker could grasp and appreciate.

All the star students breezed through the first round. Unlike Wenlong, they all chose to display their power and intimidate future opponents. Chi Shuang used the leather cord used to pack her musical instrument as a soft whip. Indeed, no part of her instrument was simple - the whiplike cord snaked and twisted like a living thing, the lead weight at its end smacking right in the middle of her opponent's forehead and leaving him unconscious in a single move.

The second round of the competition in the afternoon had Wenlong pitted against another Endless Grass student. A rather boring fight later Wenlong was free to dust his sleeves and step off the platform, having displayed a convincingly mediocre performance. Judging by this level of power, no one expected him to make it through the third round.

The third round was held in the evening. The environment was rather beautiful - the sunset provided a multitude of colours to paint the sky, the seabirds' voices frolicked on the wind, the slightest clamor of the crowd watching the fights giving a background noise that mingled with the ocean... Even the fights looked more like opera performance than real combat, with very few real injuries, and barely a drop of blood spilt.

Wenlong, used to the rough life in the mountains, found himself wondering if all this was real or just theatre.

Then it was his turn to fight again. The dice assigned him another opponent from Endless Grass. It was yet another broad-shouldered, spade-handed, dark-faced ox. This time, however, mere tricks didn't work, as the sheer physical strength of the opponent countered the Arhat style. Using an unnaturally stiff fighting method just wouldn't allow for a win, Wenlong realized after being tossed around the fighting area for a few minutes, forearms and shins bruised from hard blocks. The excitement among the Endless Grass students was almost palpable, as they expected a much-needed win here.

How do you want to handle this one, slave? A bit of poison? A single kiss should be enough. Or some love from your real skill? The ox' meridians seem so vulnerable. Or you could just stand on his head, haha. Or do you want to use that useless stinky frog farting loudly technique? Then again, you could just bore the guy to death with this fighting style you are using. Gah, playing the underdog is so humiliating! But the satisfaction when poisoning someone unsuspecting... so sweet! Stupid farts, I can't wait to drown them all in poison!

Wenlong couldn't help but be fascinated by the whip dance Chi Shuang, finding immediate and obvious parallels to the whipping arm movements of the bamboo style strikes. Still, he didn't have much time to consider such things before being dragged into a new match of his own.

A match where he finally found some of those limits he was seeking: apparently he was strong, but far from the strongest around. All in all, this seemed to be the limit of the pure use of the Arhat Style. Or at least of his understanding of it, which made little practical difference in the immediate.

Perhaps it was time to be a little more flamboyant?

If the oaf was strong enough to hurt him, he just had to change his defense: this was a game he had already played, back in his first training match. The only difference was, this time he had actual training to back it up.

So, at the next strike of the Endless Grass student, he reacted by simply... not being there. A lucky dodge, by the breadth of an hair - close enough to make the other think he could strike a victory if he just tried a little bit harder.
Except the difference in speed meant he could never try quite hard enough to achieve more than brushing hits.

None of Wenlong's own counterattacks were particularly effective, either - but he didn't need them to be. He just the other to blindly follow along in an ever-widening spiral - each circle closer to the edge of the ring while the heavier fighter - hopefully - sapped himself of more energy than he did.

Finally his opponent managed to 'corner' him against the edge of the ring and attack, hoping to finally finish the duel with one last strike - a strike that Wenlong dodged a bit more spectactularly than the others: by using the boy's shoulder as a pivot as he literally vaulted over and behind him, light as a feather.

After that he hoped he was just a quick combination away from victory: a low attack to further uproot him, and a push to 'encourage' him to follow his own strike's momentum and get pushed out of bounds.

Hopefully without need to resort to the Six Arhats Combine Cannon, but he wasn't against pulling that card out as well.