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2.11 - Unexpected Aid
🕑 Added 2024-01-13 22:46:16 +0000 UTCHe Yu had learned better than to hold anything back after watching how Old Guo had reacted to Li Heng and Yan Shirong. With wind churning along the length of his guandao, he surged forward with the Sky Dragon’s Flight. Old Guo’s initial reaction was almost imperceptible—if He Yu had still been even early Foundation, he’d have likely missed it. The old cultivator’s white brows drew fractionally together as He Yu brought his weapon down in an overhand strike.
Slipping to the side, Old Guo’s hand tightened into a fist aimed at He Yu’s chest. There was only an instant to react, and He Yu activated the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment without thinking. He could see the shape of the attack, the precise moment when Old Guo would launch his punch, and where exactly it was meant to land. In the space of a breath, he diverted himself with the Sky Dragon’s Flight, and twisted away from the blow, only to find Old Guo’s other hand gripping his neck like an iron vice.
“Where did you learn that art?” the old cultivator said, his eyes steel as he released his grip.
He Yu threw himself to the ground. He didn’t bother trying to keep the absolute terror from his voice as he answered. “This one was given his arts by Elder Cai Weizhe of the Shrouded Peaks Sect.”
“Why?” Old Guo demanded.
“This one couldn’t say for sure. The Elder said he was placing a finger on the scales for the benefit of his disciple, Zhang Lifen.”
“Cai Weizhe is your martial grandfather?”
“Yes, Honored Elder.”
Old Guo hummed but said nothing for some moments. After the silence stretched into an uncomfortable span of time, he finally spoke. “The three of you, come here.” Once they’d gathered around, he turned to Yan Shirong. “I’m only familiar with your arts by reputation. Once I see a bit more of what you can do, I’ll be able to help you easily enough.”
To Li Heng, he said, “Your deficiency is clear as day. If you can’t press the attack, then what use are you? Your grandfather certainly wouldn’t wait around for someone to strike him first. Then there’s the fact that you can barely use his technique. Pathetic! Clearly, that’s the first thing we need to work on.”
“Now,” Old Guo said finally turning his attention to He Yu. “I’ll have to think on what to do about you. Your guandao art is common enough that I’m familiar with it. But the one that Cai Weizhe gave you,” Old Guo let his voice trail off. He shook his head before finally continuing. “I’ll think of something. Regardless, I’ll have the three of you ready to deal with that ox, Hao Niu, come spring.”
The three of them exchanged looks, each one wearing an expression full of apprehension, disbelief, and more than a little gratitude. King Hao was clearly beyond their capabilities, and He Yu didn’t want to return to the sect after his first real assignment in failure. There was just one thing that bothered him, though.
“Pardon, but why help us?” he asked before he could help himself.
One of Old Guo’s white eyebrows rose fractionally. “Why? Because you’re disciples of the sect, perhaps. The sect elders allow me to live here so long as I don’t interfere in their business, but I’d rather they don’t come knocking down my modest little hut demanding why I left three of their outer disciples to die at the hands of a bandit. A little good will never hurt anyone.
“Maybe I’m helping you because the bandits are scaring away all the beasts and spirits I would normally hunt for my medicine and elixirs? Maybe I just want them gone. Don’t question a good thing. Clean up supper and get some rest. Training begins in the morning.” Old Guo spun on his heel and disappeared inside the hut, slamming the door closed behind him.
He Yu was the first to set about to do as he was told. While he may not have been much help with his father’s actual work, he was no stranger to cleaning up around the forge. This was little different. After a moment and a sharp look, Li Heng and Yan Shirong joined in as well. Once they’d made their way back to the lake shore and were scrubbing the soup pot and bowls, Yan Shirong finally spoke.
“I don’t see why we have to listen to some old hermit,” he said.
“Would you rather he’d left us to die?” He Yu asked. “We aren’t a match for King Hao as we are. If he’s going to help us, I don’t see why we ought to refuse.”
“He’s not going to help us,” Yan Shirong grumbled. “He’s going to put us to work, tell us it’s training, then send us to our deaths when he can’t get much else from us.”
“I think Brother He has it,” Li Heng said, but with noticeably less confidence than when he normally offered his position on disagreements between the two of them.
He Yu glanced in Li Heng’s direction. The noble had his head down and looked thoroughly ashamed of himself. While he’d a hunch of why exactly that was—and knew full well that it was probably not the best time to ask—He Yu never really had been one for tact in the first place.
“What’s wrong with your sword technique?” he asked. “First the snake, then with the bandits. You’ve never had any trouble before.”
The noble’s features darkened for a moment, and then he let out a heavy sigh. “The weight of the attacks. I don’t know if it’s the technique or the blade. Both against the serpent and against King Hao, when I absorbed the attack with the Winter Moon Reflection the blade became nearly impossible to lift.” Li Heng paused for a moment while he focused on scrubbing out a bowl. “I don’t understand. I’ve never noticed any increase in weight when I absorb the power of attacks from lower realm opponents.”
At least that explained what had happened. And it explained why Li Heng seemed so bothered at what Old Guo had said to him. The Lunar Mirror Sword Art had been created by his grandfather and passed down to him. When they’d first met, Li Heng had been visibly proud of it, proclaiming that the Winter Moon Reflection was the art’s principle technique. It would be a stain on both himself and his family’s reputation if he couldn’t adequately use it in battle.
“What about you?” Yan Shirong asked. “The old man seemed pretty put out by whatever it was that you did, He Yu.”
“I’m not sure. I just used my cultivation technique to see the shape of his attack so I could avoid it. For all the good it did.”
Yan Shirong’s eyebrows rose. “That doesn’t sound like any cultivation technique I’ve ever heard of.”
This wasn’t the first time they’d circled around the subject of He Yu’s art. While Li Heng had been surprisingly forthcoming with information about his own family art, He Yu couldn’t exactly say the same for Yan Shirong. This was fairly typical, of course.
Cultivators kept knowledge of their arts close, and seldom even gave the names lest their opponents learn of their capabilities. He Yu didn’t even know the name of any of Zhang Lifen’s arts, and she was supposedly his mentor. Sharing knowledge of one’s arts was a sign of trust, though. A quick check-in with the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment confirmed He Yu’s hunch about the matter—if he wanted to foster trust between himself and Yan Shirong, he’d have to be the one to move first.
“The art is called The Cloud Emperor’s Heavenly Palace. As I mentioned before, it was gifted to me by Elder Cai.”
“Should that mean something?” Yan Shirong asked. “I feel like it should, given the way Old Guo reacted.”
“Elder Cai inherited the art from its creator, and used it to seal some ‘Dawn Palace.’ All this happened over a thousand years ago, and the records on it are basically impossible to find.”
“Well, if there’d be anyone outside the sect that might know, apparently it’s a Sixth Realm cultivator named Old Guo living by himself in the woods,” Yan Shirong said. “What’s so special about this art, then?”
He Yu finished washing up and stacked the now-clean bowls inside the cooking pot. “Your guess is as good as mine. The cultivation technique, the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment, allows me to see the truth of things. Or at least that’s how the manual described it.”
“Sounds more like a perception technique,” Yan Shirong said with a frown.
“It’s a bit of both,” He Yu said.
“Okay, so you’ve got a weird cultivation technique. Anything else?” Yan Shirong sounded distracted as he spoke, like he was turning over some problem, or plumbing the depths of his memory for some obscure fact. Either way, he’d been drawn in.
“Well, there’s my movement technique, the Sky Dragon’s Flight.”
“I’ve seen that. Just a wind aspected technique as far as I can tell.”
He Yu nodded. “That’s about all I’ve gotten from it, myself. There’s more to both the techniques and the art, but any knowledge of them is beyond my ability to comprehend yet.”
“Arts can be like that,” Yan Shirong said. “Well, if we’re going to stay here, hopefully, Old Guo will be able to unlock something in you.” Then, he shrugged, and added, “In all of us, I suppose.”
Back at Old Guo’s hut, He Yu settled in to get some cultivation in before he snatched his several hours of sleep for the night. The natural qi of the area was rich and abundant, but heavily aspected towards wood and water. It shouldn’t have been surprising given the abundance of trees—and the nearby lake. It was disappointing, however. At least he’d be receiving training from a Soul Refining cultivator come morning.
