Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

When faced with malice, respond not with equal hatred but with precise force. Like lightning striking a tree, let your action be swift, decisive, and necessary—never cruel.

—Sage Master Liu Yue, Walker of the Midnight Path

Xiulan adjusted the black and turquoise robe across her shoulders, running her fingers along the spirit-infused silk. The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard—not too early, not too late.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of Elder Chang Liu's combat class. Yesterday's talisman and spiritual writing tutorials with Ming had proven manageable, but this felt different. The same dread she'd experienced before her first college classes crept back.

At least the training ground sits close to the quarters. Xiulan walked past the main pavilion, her steps measured despite her anxiety.

The training yard buzzed with activity. Disciples gathered in small clusters, their robes marking them from different halls. Purple-robed merchandisers from Treasure Hall mingled with the emerald-clad herbalists and blue-wearing guardians. The outer disciples' simple markings dominated the crowd, though a few inner disciples stood apart with their more elaborate insignias.

Each one bore a cultivation rank marker on their sleeves, just like she'd read in the Pavilion rule manual. Her own 'qi-gathering' marker tugged at her sleeve's fabric.

Most matched her rank, but many bore the qi-refining and even foundation forming marks as well. The mix suggested Elder Chang Liu's combat lessons drew students from across the pavilion's hierarchy.

Just like a required course everyone needs to take.

Or maybe it was just a fantastic class for learning to defend yourself?

Xiulan approached the gathered disciples. They chatted and laughed together, exchanging familiar greetings and jokes. The easy camaraderie spoke of shared experiences and established friendships.

After taking an empty spot, she glanced to her side. A guardian hall disciple stood next to her, his blue robes marked with the qi refining rank insignia. Xiulan bowed slightly. "Good morning. I'm Lin Xiulan."

"I'm Tan Zhu." The lean disciple nodded back, dark hair framing brown eyes.

"How long do we usually wait here?"

"First class?" Tan Zhu raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Xiulan smiled. "Other than working with my senior sister."

He glanced at a side entrance to the courtyard. "Wu Xing arrives five minutes after the appointed time like clockwork."

"Wu Xing?" Xiulan tilted her head. "Who's that?"

"You didn't think Elder Chang Liu would show up personally?" Tan Zhu chuckled. "Wu Xing is his direct disciple. The elder only appears for grading."

"I see. Thanks for letting me know."

More disciples filtered into the training yard. The quiet murmurs grew into a steady buzz of conversation as the crowd doubled in size.

"You're the visiting elder's disciple, aren't you?" Tan Zhu asked.

"Yes?" Xiulan blinked. "How did you know?"

"You're not wearing a hall robe. Makes you stand out."

A knot formed in Xiulan's stomach. Standing out meant becoming a target—just like in high school, when she'd accidentally answered too many questions in class. The memories of sidelong glances and whispered comments made her shoulders tense.

A tall disciple strode into the training yard, his foundation forming rank insignia gleaming on brown and amber robes.

"Welcome to combat fundamentals." The disciple's amber eyes swept across the gathered students. "I am Wu Xing. Anyone who hasn't received the class synopsis should remain afterward to request one."

Oh god, not again. Xiulan suppressed a groan. The familiar academic structure triggered flashbacks to college orientation—only this time with weapons instead of textbooks. At least I don't have to pay book and tuition fees.

Four disciples in training robes filed in behind Wu Xing, each carrying a bundle of wooden practice weapons.

"Form lines." Wu Xing pointed to different areas of the yard. "Your assigned assistant will guide you through the basics."

"Good luck." Tan Zhu stepped toward another group. "Try not to die on your first day."

Xiulan stared at Tan Zhu's retreating back. Die on my first day? Was he telling her to break-a-leg or was that an actual warning of danger?

"Today we learn the primary kata form of Treasure Guard Art." Wu Xing's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Each student will receive individual assessment as well. Now, observe."

Wu Xing stepped into formation with his assistants. Their wooden swords moved in perfect synchronization, flowing through a complex series of strikes and blocks. Xiulan tracked each movement intently, memorizing the patterns. Experience told her they wouldn't demonstrate it twice.

After the show ended, the assistants walked down the rows, distributing wooden practice swords. The worn grip felt rough against Xiulan's palm.

"We focus on the first movement today." Wu Xing demonstrated the opening stance. "Spread out."

The crowd dispersed across the courtyard. Xiulan found a spot near the front, gripping her practice sword. She attempted the first kata movement—and stumbled.

Around her, some disciples executed the entire form flawlessly, while others fumbled basic stances, just like she had. The skill disparity explained the individual assessments.

A talented disciple three spots ahead caught her attention. His movements flowed with practiced grace.

Watch and learn. Xiulan mirrored his techniques, preparing for her rapidly approaching turn.

The student ahead snapped his head around and glared at her. She frowned but continued practicing the movements. What's his problem?

A short while later, an assistant beckoned her toward the assessment area. "Follow me."

He led her to a pile of rocks. "Crush these."

Xiulan blinked but complied, channeling qi into her arms. The stones cracked and shattered under her strikes.

"Next." He guided her to a strange wooden contraption with rotating poles. "Dodge."

The poles whirled into motion. Xiulan weaved between them, narrowly avoiding several strikes to her shoulders.

"Jump. As high as possible."

What kind of testing is this? Xiulan gathered qi in her legs and leaped. She soared through the air for a minute, before landing with a graceful qi-cushion. Around her, other students performed similar feats—each one displaying superhuman abilities.

"Sprint to that marker and back."

Xiulan dashed across the yard, watching others blur past her with incredible speed. The assistant handed her a practice sword next.

Her sword forms proved clumsy and uncoordinated. When they switched to spears, her movements flowed more naturally.

"Ah, a spear user." The assistant made his first note.

"Yes. That's my primary weapon, along with throwing darts."

He scribbled on his scroll. "I'll mark that down."

"Are there any more tests?"

"This is a martial class focused on physical fitness and weapon forms, not qi abilities. During testing and sparring, qi usage is restricted to internal enhancement only."

"So self-enhancement is allowed, but no qi attacks or techniques affecting opponents?"

The assistant nodded.

The assistant handed Xiulan weapon after weapon. A staff—clumsy. Daggers—decent. Mace—awkward. Each attempt earned more scribbles in his notes. Most felt foreign in her hands, nothing like the familiar weight of Severing Light.

She was dismissed with no idea of how well or poorly she had done.

Dismissed, she returned to her spot in the training formation, focusing on the sword kata. The talented disciple from before returned to his position across from her simultaneously. His glare burned into her.

Enough of this nonsense.

"Hello, I'm Lin Xiulan." She lowered her practice sword. "Is everything okay?"

"Soon you won't be able to copy me." He straightened his shoulders. "I'm Lei Shan, and you'll have to stand on your own merits."

What? Xiulan blinked. Was he actually upset that I watched him to learn the kata?

"That's exactly what I was—"

"Attention!" Wu Xing's command cut through the yard. "We'll now begin free form sparring. Team up with the person in front of you."

Oh no. Xiulan stared at Lei Shan's smirk. This was not going to end well.

His blue guardian robe bore the qi-refining badge, and his wicked grin promised trouble. Perfect. Just what I needed on day one.

Wu Xing's voice droned through the rules, but Xiulan barely registered the words. Lei Shan stared at her like a wolf eyeing its next meal.

Lines scratched in the sand marked their designated sparring area. Other pairs spread across the courtyard, wooden swords at the ready.

Winning doesn't matter. Xiulan adjusted her grip on the practice sword. Focus on learning. The unfamiliar weapon felt clumsy. Using swords made sense for standardizing first-day instruction, but still...

"Scared?" Lei Shan smirked. "The door's right there."

Xiulan matched the kata movements as Lei Shan struck first. His wooden sword whipped through the air faster than expected, smacking her wrist hard.

The impact stung, but Xiulan maintained her grip. She'd taken worse hits before.

She launched her own attack, but moved too slowly. Lei Shan's practice sword cracked against her side.

This bastard.

The spiritual wood reduced some of the impact, but each strike radiated pain through her body. The hits would have definitely shattered mortal bones. Tomorrow's bruises promised to paint her black and blue.

"Ugh!" Xiulan grunted as another blow landed. Lei Shan targeted the same spots repeatedly, each strike precise and deliberate. This asshole knows exactly what he's doing.

The fourth exchange came even faster. Lei Shan abandoned the kata's prescribed movement entirely, forcing Xiulan to improvise. His practice sword whipped sideways and cracked against her temple.

Stars exploded across her vision. Xiulan blinked rapidly and scanned the training yard. Wu Xing focused on a group of struggling beginners while his assistants circulated through other pairs. No one noticed Lei Shan's escalating violence.

"Stop hitting me like that." Xiulan steadied her stance.

"Maybe you don't belong here." Lei Shan twirled his practice sword.

Xiulan shifted into the next kata stance, deliberately leaving her grip loose on the practice sword. Lei Shan's eyes gleamed at the obvious opening. His wooden blade whistled through the air toward her exposed wrist.

The practice sword sailed through the air. Before Lei Shan could react, Xiulan's fingers clamped around his sword wrist. Cold yin energy surged through her grip while blazing yang gathered in her other palm.

Lei Shan's eyes widened. She could feel him drawing his qi in reflex, but it was fire and wood. Ineffective.

Xiulan's fist slammed into his chest. Lightning erupted between their two points of contact, crackling across his robes in a brilliant arc. She focused on channeling her side of the circuit through a safe path through her meridians.

The spiritual fabric of Lei Shan's robe blackened and smoked and then his muscles seized as electricity coursed through him. He collapsed, twitching uncontrollably on the packed dirt.

"Maybe you're right." Xiulan stared down at his spasming form. "I don't like being forced to play the punching bag for someone's arrogance."

The crackle of electricity died away. Silence fell across the training yard as every head turned toward them. The acrid smell of scorched fabric filled the air.

Wu Xing sprinted across the yard, two assistants close behind. They dropped beside Lei Shan, hands glowing with diagnostic qi.

Xiulan brushed dust from her robes and straightened her shoulders.

"What happened here?" Wu Xing demanded.

"He kept hitting me." Xiulan picked up her practice sword.

"This is martial training. Contact is normal—"

"Not when it stems from malice and arrogance." Xiulan met Wu Xing's stern gaze. "He attacked me because I watched and copied his kata form. Isn't learning the whole point of being here?"

"He's alive," one assistant called out. "Just stunned. Though his robe..." The assistant gestured at the blackened fabric.

Wu Xing stepped closer to Xiulan. "Your actions far exceed an appropriate response. A practice sword leaves bruises at worst. You could have killed him."

"If his heart stopped, I can just hit him again to restart it."

Wu Xing stared at her. The entire yard fell silent, every disciple frozen in place as they gaped at Xiulan.

Questions erupted. Disciples shouted accusations and demands for explanations. Wu Xing barked orders while his assistants hauled Lei Shan toward the medical wing.

Xiulan stared at the ground where Lei Shan had fallen. The voices blurred together into meaningless noise.

Just like back then. The memory of Lin Qian's accusations echoed through her mind, followed by Madam Zhang's shrill demands for punishment. The pattern played out in her mind—violence begetting violence, strength answering strength.

Wu Xing dismissed the class. Disciples scattered, throwing suspicious glances over their shoulders. Some whispered behind raised hands while others openly pointed at Xiulan.

She barely registered Wu Xing's lecture about proper conduct and excessive force. The words washed over her like rain on stone. The numbness spread through her chest, familiar and almost comforting.

Maybe something in me broke long ago. The thought drifted through her mind as she remembered Lin Fei's slap, the guards' rough hands, Mei Chen's torture. Each moment had chipped at her.

This class wasn't going to work. Not for her. Not anymore.

Ming appeared at the edge of the training yard. Her purple robes swished as she strode forward, intercepting Wu Xing mid-lecture. Their voices rose and fell in heated discussion while she watched through distant eyes.

It was a relief when Wu Xing pronounced Xiulan should never come back to the class.

Ming grabbed Xiulan's arm and pulled her away from the training yard. "How did you manage to get kicked out of class on your first day?"

A weak laugh bubbled up from Xiulan's throat. "Talent?"

Ming stopped at a quiet corner outside the courtyard, away from prying eyes. "Did you really tell Wu Xing you'd punch Lei Shan again to restart his heart?"

"It probably would have worked." Xiulan shrugged. "The electrical stimulation could reset his cardiac rhythm."

"By the heavens." Ming pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'll find you a smaller class. Or better yet, I can teach you martial arts myself."

"I'm sorry for causing trouble." Xiulan straightened her robe. "But I won't apologize for defending myself."

"Tell me what happened." Ming leaned against the courtyard wall.

"Lei Shan got angry because I watched and copied his kata forms." Xiulan traced the bruises forming on her wrist. "He started targeting the same spots repeatedly, hitting harder than necessary. When I called him out, he suggested I didn't belong here."

"I see." Ming crossed her arms. "I'm not sure if what you did was right, but I'm glad you stood up for yourself."

Warmth bloomed in Xiulan's chest at Ming's words. Having a friend and senior sister who understood meant more than she could express. "Thanks. I hope the alchemy class goes better than this."

Ming tapped her fingers against the courtyard wall. "I think part of the strong reaction was because of the cultivation difference between you and Lei Shan."

"What do you mean?" Xiulan frowned. "I'm at qi gathering, he's at qi refining."

"Exactly." Ming pushed away from the wall. "He stands a full step above you, yet you disabled him with one strike. That isn't normal. His qi density should exceed yours, and he's late-qi refining. His control should be massively higher."

"That's sort of how it works with lightning." Xiulan shrugged. "It doesn't care about cultivation levels. I had contact at two points, and he lacked the body mass and correct counter-qi to resist. He's not a giant skyscraper-sized dawn serpent after all."

Ming's eyebrows shot up. "Skyscraper?"

"Pagoda-sized, I mean." Xiulan coughed.

"You've seen actual combat." Ming studied her face. "A real battlefield. Lei Shan and most other students lack that experience. The shock must have rattled them."

"How stable is Aeris, then?" Xiulan muttered.

"Many missions build that world experience." Ming straightened her robes. "But they won't match your background—at least not until foundation forming or higher."

Ming led Xiulan to the dining hall, a spacious room filled with long wooden tables. The moment they entered, conversations hushed. Dozens of eyes tracked their movement across the room.

Wow. How fast news traveled. They'd only spent five or ten minutes talking…

"Just ignore them." Ming grabbed two bowls of steaming noodles from the serving counter.

Xiulan followed Ming to an empty table near the window. The whispers started immediately.

"That's her—"

"—knocked out Lei Shan—"

"—with one punch—"

"—lightning technique—"

A group of guardian disciples pointed at her while pretending to study their food. Two merchandisers at the next table leaned closer, straining to hear any conversation.

"The soup's good today." Ming slurped her noodles. "Try the red sauce."

Xiulan poked at her food. "Everyone's staring."

"Of course they are. You're interesting." Ming added more sauce to her bowl. "Most disciples spend years learning prescribed forms before attempting real combat techniques."

"Great." Xiulan stabbed a mushroom with her chopsticks. "Just great."

They finished eating amid the constant whispers and sidelong glances. Ming stood and gestured toward the door. "Come. Elder Wang Mei's alchemy class starts soon."

They walked through winding corridors until they reached a green-painted door. Herbs hung in dried bunches along the walls, filling the air with sharp, medicinal scents.

"This is where I leave you." Ming squeezed Xiulan's shoulder. "Good luck. Try not to electrocute anyone this time."

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