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.