Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

The patterns of fate interweave like silk threads in moonlight—visible only to those who know where to look, yet binding all who touch them.

— Sage Li Wei, Keeper of the Eternal Patterns

Xiulan directed servants to prepare the manor’s finest hall for Prince Hao. The prince’s theatrical complaints echoed through the corridors as he inspected every detail—from the jade-inlaid screens to the imported silk cushions. Each criticism rang hollow, delivered with practiced indifference rather than genuine displeasure. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d offered him the Imperial Palace itself—the complaints seemed more ritual than substance.

After the prince settled in, Xiulan met with Tajin, her mother, and Mei Chen in a private study. The scent of her mother’s tea wafted through the air as servants poured fresh cups.

Xiulan straightened her robes. "Why exactly am I under arrest?"

Tajin sipped his tea before setting the cup down with deliberate care. "Prince Hao serves as Lord Chao’s patron. For years, Chao has consolidated power throughout the region on behalf of the Ministry of Investigation."

"So the prince intends to brand me a rogue cultivator?" Xiulan’s fingers tightened around her teacup.

"Not quite." Tajin shook his head. "Initially, I believe he planned to negotiate—your innocence in exchange for Lord Chao’s release. But..."

"But?" Xiulan prompted, studying Tajin’s measured expression.

"Your ’friend’ likely terrified him. Combined with such a decisive victory..." Tajin adjusted his turquoise robes. "Tell me truthfully—did you actually sever Lord Chao’s legs?"

"Yes." Xiulan sipped her tea without hesitation.

A slight smile tugged at Tajin’s lips. "That could have been a rash decision, but it serves now. Lord Chao will be useless to the prince. He’ll likely discard him, and relieve you of charges."

Zhao Lian set down her cup. "There are many matters requiring attention." She glanced at Xiulan. "Perhaps you should check on Feng Yu? She seemed upset earlier."

"This meeting is important." Xiulan frowned at the suggestion.

"You’ll be leaving soon. There’s no need to become more entangled here." Zhao Lian smoothed her robes. "You should seek your own path."

"When did you speak with Master Qingfeng?" Xiulan’s eyes narrowed.

"Only briefly." Zhao Lian looked at Mei Chen. "You both must do your best. I’ll handle House Lin’s affairs—you needn’t worry."

"I’m not certain I care if House Lin survives." Xiulan stared into her teacup.

The sentiment settled cold and hard in her chest. The Lin name meant nothing to her—just empty characters devoid of significance. Only Zhang Wei and her mother stirred any warmth in her heart.

A sharp crack split the silence. Through a half-open door, Zhang Wei stood frozen, his wooden practice sword clattering against the floor. His small hands balled into tight fists before he spun and bolted down the hallway.

"Ah fuck." Xiulan pushed back from the table.

"That was not ideal, nor proper to say, Xiulan." Zhao Lian’s shoulders tensed beneath her silk robes.

"Yes mother, I shouldn’t have said that." Xiulan rubbed her temples. "I’m afraid he’ll misunderstand..."

"I’ll speak with Lady Lian while you attend to the young lord." Tajin adjusted his turquoise sleeves.

Xiulan strode into the hallway with Mei Chen shadowing her steps. The corridors stretched empty in both directions without a trace of Zhang Wei.

"This way." Mei Chen tugged Xiulan’s sleeve and pointed toward the ceiling.

"The attic?"

Mei Chen nodded. "He’s up there."

Of course she can sense him . Xiulan located the ladder and climbed into the musty space above. Zhang Wei huddled in the corner, arms wrapped tight around his knees.

She crawled through the attic, fresh sawdust coating her palms and knees. Shafts of lantern light pierced through gaps in the floor boards, illuminating dancing motes in the air. Zhang Wei pressed himself further into the shadowed corner as she approached.

"Are you going to chase me down and kill me too?" Zhang Wei’s words cut through the dusty air.

"Of course not." Xiulan sat cross-legged on the rough wooden boards. "I just want to talk."

"You’ve talked enough." Zhang Wei turned away. "And done too much already."

Xiulan took a deep breath. "When Madam Zhang and the others tortured Mei Chen, something broke inside me. They’d already tried to kill me multiple times. I couldn’t let them hurt anyone else I cared about."

"But Father—"

"Father stood by while they did horrible things. He knew about the poison attempts. He watched them hurt you." Xiulan brushed sawdust from her sleeve. "I only truly care about you and Mother. The rest of House Lin meant nothing compared to keeping you both safe."

Zhang Wei uncurled slightly, though he still wouldn’t meet her eyes. "You didn’t have to kill them all."

"Maybe not." Xiulan shifted closer. "I’d do anything to protect you and Mother—even become a monster in everyone else’s eyes."

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Zhang Wei’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, though anger still tightened his jaw. He picked at a splinter in the floorboard. "I don’t hate you. But I want you to leave."

Xiulan settled onto the dusty floorboards, crossing her legs beneath her. "I’ll be leaving soon, Wei. I’ll visit when I can to check on you and Mother, but I won’t stay here anymore."

Tears welled up in Zhang Wei’s eyes, spilling down his cheeks. "Why? If you’re just going to go like that, why?"

A soft blue glow illuminated the dim attic as Mei Chen’s spiritual form drifted up through the floorboards. The ethereal orb cast dancing shadows across the wooden beams.

Young Master Wei! Mei Chen’s spirit circled around Zhang Wei in playful spirals, her essence pulsing with a gentle radiance.

"I have to go with Mei Chen." Xiulan gestured toward the floating spirit. "She really did die. We need special training to preserve her spirit properly."

Zhang Wei rubbed his eyes, staring at Mei Chen’s spirit orb form. "I don’t understand... but..." He sniffled. "I hope you both end up okay."

"Me too." Xiulan’s shoulders slumped. "Things should calm down here once we’re gone. Less violence. Less death." The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

They descended the ladder in silence. Zhang Wei trudged toward his room without looking back. Xiulan spotted Mei Chen’s physical form sprawled in the hallway.

"Mei Chen! You can’t just leave your body lying around like that."

The spirit swooped down sheepishly and merged back into the corpse and a moment later Mei Chen’s eyes fluttered open as Xiulan helped her stand.

"I need to speak with Feng Yu." Xiulan straightened Mei Chen’s robes.

"Miss?"

"Could you prepare our room for sleep? I’d like some privacy for this conversation."

"Of course, miss!" Mei Chen smiled brightly and bowed.

After a brief search, Xiulan found Feng Yu sitting alone by the ruined fish pond, its dry basin cracked and empty beneath the manor walls. A half-empty wine jug sat beside her on the weathered stones. Dead leaves skittered across the barren ground where koi once swam.

"Are you busy?" Xiulan approached.

Feng Yu lifted the wine jug and laughed—a hollow sound that echoed off the garden walls. "No. Want to share a drink?"

"Of course." Xiulan settled onto a smooth rock beside her companion. The stone felt cool through her robes as she tilted her head back. Stars dotted the evening sky, twinkling through wisps of cloud.

"So?" Feng Yu’s question cut through the night air.

"So what?"

"You should know what I mean." The words spilled from Feng Yu in a despondent tone, barely above a whisper.

Xiulan shook her head. "I don’t." She took a sip from the wine jug. "Aren’t you weak to alcohol? For a moment I thought you’d lose your head for disrespecting the prince and not kowtowing properly! Thankfully he’s fickle and blind."

Feng Yu blinked rapidly. "You... you’re not...?"

Xiulan leaned back, letting her hair cascade over Feng Yu’s leg as she stared up at the star-filled sky. "I’m not what? A good sister? A good daughter? I’m probably the worst."

The moonlight caught Feng Yu’s amber eyes, making them glow brighter than the moon above. Xiulan’s breath caught at the intensity of that gaze bearing down on her.

"I... I..." Feng Yu stammered.

Xiulan reached up and pressed her palm against Feng Yu’s cheek. The skin felt warm beneath her touch. "Need to say something? You don’t. Not to me. I’m just here to support my sister when she needs it."

Feng Yu parted her lips, hesitated, then lifted her gaze to the stars scattered across the inky sky. "My mother died in a fire." The words fell soft yet sharp into the night air. "They meant to kill me too, but I turned out to be... special." She traced circles on the weathered stone. "When the building burned, everyone who loved me burned with it. No one remained to care."

Xiulan squeezed Feng Yu’s hand. "You survived. That shows incredible strength."

Silence settled between them like a comfortable blanket. From the manor, muted voices and occasional laughter drifted through the garden as the celebration wound down. Guards called out the watch changes while servants extinguished lanterns one by one.

Something cool and smooth slithered across Xiulan’s forehead. Her eyes crossed as she tried to focus on the intruder. "Liuhuo!"

Feng Yu glanced down at Xiulan and burst into bright laughter. The small serpent coiled into a neat spiral atop Xiulan’s head, scales gleaming in the starlight.

"There’s a snake on my head!" Xiulan stared upward, frozen in place.

"He likes treats," Feng Yu said, her eyes twinkling with amusement as Liuhuo remained coiled.

"I don’t—" Xiulan paused, feeling the serpent’s cool scales against her scalp. "I don’t have any treats. What does a spiritual beast even eat?"

"Little pieces of meat usually work." Feng Yu stretched her arms above her head. "Since you lack proper bribes, you’ll need to wait for him to move on his own."

Liuhuo’s tongue flicked out, tasting the night air. A soft hiss of agreement echoed in the quiet garden.

Xiulan lifted her hand, extending one finger toward the serpent. She prodded his scales gently. The tiny dawn serpent responded by bumping his snout repeatedly against her fingertip.

"Hey!" Feng Yu straightened. "When I do that you bite me! Why does she get special treatment?"

The serpent uncoiled from Xiulan’s head in a fluid motion. He darted back up Feng Yu’s leg and back to her hand. At her wrist, he wrapped himself into a tight spiral and settled in, pointedly ignoring her question.

"Are you trying to win?" Feng Yu twisted the wine jug between her palms.

Xiulan smiled, watching the moonlight dance across the empty pond. "I don’t think keeping score benefits either of us."

"Because I’d win?" Feng Yu’s lips quirked upward.

"Because I want our relationship to stay pure." Xiulan looked at her. "My family’s safety matters most—and that includes my martial sister. Keep your secrets until you’re ready. No pressure."

Feng Yu exhaled deeply, shoulders dropping. "How can you not demand answers? Weren’t you angry when Liuhuo appeared without warning? A guardian spirit of this caliber..." She gestured at the serpent. "The odds are astronomical."

"Hmm." Xiulan tapped her chin thoughtfully. "By that logic, wouldn’t Mei Chen put me far ahead in our imaginary competition?"

Liuhuo released a strange hissing sound—almost like laughter—and flicked his tongue toward Feng Yu.

"You did not get ’stuck’ with me!" Feng Yu jabbed her finger at the serpent.

The tiny golden dawn serpent lunged forward, clamping his teeth around her fingertip before beginning to gnaw.

Xiulan’s laughter echoed across the empty garden.

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