Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

True wisdom reveals itself not in grand gestures, but in quiet moments of doubt. It is in questioning our own nature that we discover our truest path.

—Master Song Lin, Scholar of the Jade Path

A guard rushed past the carriage, his armor clinking with each hurried step. "Stay inside! It’s safer here," he barked, not even sparing a glance back.

Xiulan’s eyes narrowed. Something felt off. The strangers didn’t move like bandits. Their postures slumped with exhaustion, not aggression. Faces gaunt and clothes tattered, they looked more like beggars than threats.

"Miss Xiulan, please stay inside," Mei Chen pleaded, clutching Zhang Wei’s arm.

Xiulan shook her head. "Hold on to little brother and keep him safe." She met Mei Chen’s worried gaze, conveying a silent promise. "I’ll handle this."

Mei Chen hesitated but nodded, pulling Zhang Wei closer. "Be careful."

Xiulan stepped out of the carriage, the cool air biting against her skin. She moved toward the front, each step calculated and steady. The guards shouted, dragging some of the ragged men to the ground, treating them like animals.

"What’s going on here?" Xiulan’s voice cut through the commotion.

The guards froze, eyes wide with shock. The ragged men dropped to their knees, foreheads pressed to the dirt. "Mercy, noble lady," they begged in unison.

The lead guard straightened, his face a mask of irritation. "Miss Lin, please return to the carriage. We’ll deal with them quickly."

Xiulan’s gaze hardened. "What is your name to command a daughter of the Lin Family’s main house?"

Silence stretched as the guard’s confidence faltered. He swallowed hard but said nothing.

"Release them," Xiulan ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

The guards hesitated before obeying, letting go of the men who scrambled to join their companions in kowtowing.

"Explain yourselves," Xiulan demanded, eyes scanning the desperate faces in front of her.

One man lifted his head slightly. "May I speak, noble lady?"

"Granted," Xiulan replied, crossing her arms.

The man raised his head slightly, revealing deep-set eyes and weathered skin. "We’re woodsmen from the eastern forests near Lin Manor, noble lady. Three days past, our landclaim caught fire."

"A fire?" Xiulan studied the group more carefully now. Soot still stained their clothes and skin.

"Yes, my lady. The landlord showed no mercy. Evicted us straight away." The man’s voice cracked. "We haven’t eaten proper since then."

Another woodsman coughed, drawing Xiulan’s attention to his bandaged arm. Burns peeked out from beneath the dirty wrappings.

"Why not head to Blackmere City?" Xiulan frowned. "It’s not far."

The spokesman gestured to his companions. "Three of us suffered burns in the fire. We’ve only managed this distance in three days, and the city..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Has no one stopped to help you?" Xiulan glanced down the road. It was empty except for her group, but merchant caravans and official carriages would be passing regularly on the route.

"They either mistake us for bandits or..." The man’s shoulders slumped. "Most folk don’t want to dirty their hands with beggars."

Xiulan understood the cruel logic. These men, covered in dirt and soot, represented everything the wealthy travelers feared or despised. The nobles wouldn’t risk their reputation by associating with commoners, while merchants wouldn’t risk their profits on charity.

Xiulan frowned at the woodsmen’s tale. Something didn’t add up. The magistrate’s office maintained strict protocols for handling displaced citizens, especially after disasters. Even a simple messenger should have reported this to her father or someone in charge days ago.

"We’ll stop here and provide aid," Xiulan announced, turning to the guard leader.

The guard straightened his back. "Miss Lin, we cannot delay. Lord Lin and Captain Bai gave explicit orders to escort you and Young Master Wei directly to the manor."

Xiulan surveyed the clearing. The mountain pass opened wide here, creating a natural rest stop between the towering cliffs. Scattered stones formed rough circles around blackened patches of earth—remnants of previous campfires. Crude lean-tos made from branches and leaves dotted the perimeter.

"We’d need to make camp soon anyway." Xiulan gestured at the setting sun. "This spot seems as good as any."

The guard shifted uncomfortably. "Miss Lin, our orders—"

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"Would you have the Lin family give up their duties to these people?" Xiulan straightened her spine. "Do you intend to cost my father further face?"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the guards. Several nodded, their rigid postures softening.

"We’re barely a day from security." Xiulan pressed her advantage. "Our supplies can easily stretch to help these men. I’m not asking you to escort them back to the city—just share what we can spare."

The guard leader’s shoulders sagged. He dropped into a deep bow. "You speak wisely, Miss Lin. We’ll make camp here." He turned to his men. "Set up the perimeter! Get fires started!"

The guards sprang into action, unloading supplies from the convoy with practiced efficiency. Xiulan looked to the woodsmen and pointed to a cleared space off the main road. "Set up camp there. Help each other get settled."

The men shuffled toward the indicated spot, supporting their injured companions. The convoy wagons rolled off the path, their wheels crunching against loose gravel.

"Sister Xiulan!" Zhang Wei bounced on his heels next to the carriage. "Can I sleep here tonight? I’ll protect our noble transport!"

Xiulan suppressed a laugh at his enthusiasm. "The carriage is yours to defend."

"Miss Xiulan." Mei Chen stepped closer, wringing her hands. "Are you certain about this?"

"Look at them." Xiulan nodded toward the group. "No weapons, and those burns are real enough. They need help, not suspicion."

"Of course." Mei Chen bowed slightly.

"Fetch the burn medicine from our supplies. The sooner we treat their injuries, the better."

The guards erected Xiulan’s tent in a grassy clearing near a stand of trees. The canvas stretched taut, dwarfing the other shelters sprouting around the camp. Small fires flickered to life, but did little to ward off the growing chill.

"...weather’s turning sour," a guard muttered nearby.

"Could get nasty if the wind picks up," another responded.

Xiulan lifted her gaze to the darkening sky. Heavy clouds rolled in from the west, promising an unwelcome spring shower. The threatening clouds didn’t burst though, leaving an overcast evening sky that turned into a vivid pink hue.

The aroma of cooking food wafted through the camp as guards distributed portions to the grateful woodsmen. Xiulan watched from her carriage as the men devoured their meals with desperate intensity, scooping rice and vegetables into their mouths.

"Sister Xiulan, try this!" Zhang Wei pushed a steaming bowl toward her. "The cook made extra dumplings for us."

Xiulan accepted the bowl. A quick test with her needle confirmed it was safe, not that she thought Zhang Wei would poison her or there was much of a risk at this point, but building the habit would be good.

The dumplings tasted good—perfectly spiced pork wrapped in soft folds. She glanced at Zhang Wei, who stuffed two dumplings into his mouth at once.

It didn’t take long for her to finish her meal.

"Mei Chen." Xiulan set down her empty bowl. "I need you to speak with the woodsmen."

Mei Chen blinked. "Miss?"

"Find out about their landclaim, their landlord—anything they’ll share." Xiulan adjusted her sitting position on the carriage step. "They might tell you more than they’d tell me."

"But Miss Xiulan, shouldn’t you—"

"They won’t speak freely to a noble." Xiulan smiled at her maid’s confusion. "You’re closer to their station. They’ll trust you more."

Understanding dawned on Mei Chen’s face. "I’ll take care of it, miss." She nodded and headed toward the group of men.

"Why do you want to know about them, Sister?" Zhang Wei licked dumpling sauce from his fingers.

"The magistrate should have helped them already." Xiulan frowned at the makeshift camp. "Aid for displaced citizens is law, not charity. Something doesn’t add up."

"You’re so smart, Sister!" Zhang Wei bounced in his seat. "You helped these people and now you’re going to find out what really happened!"

Xiulan reached out and tousled Zhang Wei’s hair. He ducked away with a playful squeal.

"Maybe we’ll learn something useful." She massaged her temple as a wave of dizziness washed over her. "Though I need to rest now. The day has been long."

"Are you okay?" Zhang Wei straightened up, concern etched across his face.

"Just tired. I’ll retire to my tent." Xiulan stood carefully, steadying herself against the carriage. "Stay with the guards, okay?"

He nodded, but she could feel his eyes on her back as she walked off.

The interior of her tent provided blessed quiet. Xiulan sank onto the portable bed, staring up at the canvas ceiling. The fabric rippled softly in the evening breeze.

A strange disconnect settled over her. The old Xiulan would have ignored the woodcutters and would have cowered before the guard’s authority. Yet here she was, questioning everything, helping strangers, and taking charge.

Zhang Wei and Mei Chen seemed to accept the changes without question. They followed her lead, trusted her judgment. But were these actions truly her own? As Li Mei, she had played Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles cautiously, rarely taking risks. Even in the game world, she had stayed in her comfort zone.

Yet these decisive actions felt right. Natural. As if Xiulan had always wanted to act this way but couldn’t break free from her constraints. Was she simply enabling Xiulan’s true nature to emerge?

Li Mei or Lin Xiulan?

The thought struck like lightning.

The line between them blurred more each day.

Her identity stretched thin between two lives, two sets of memories, two different souls. She pressed her palms against her eyes.

The question echoed through her mind, impossible to answer: Which one was she?

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