Beware of chicken, p.42
Beware of Chicken, page 42
My fingers were tapping rapidly against my leg. I was starting to get a bit jittery. Looking down at my hand, I frowned.
Okay, this is a bit strange. I bounced up and down a few times.
I walked back into the main room and noticed that everybody else was missing.
“Meimei. What was in that drink you gave me?” I asked. I was getting really, really bouncy at this point.
She looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth as she stirred something into a cup of water. It smelled exactly like the drink she had given me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear husband.”
Some kind of prank, then? Would my skin turn blue, or was I about to start itching?
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to try to get your revenge ever since I threw you into the mud pit!”
She looked almost offended by that statement.
“Jin, I’ve been trying to get you with something ever since Meihua’s wedding. You’ve ignored the itching powder, the blue-skin dye, and the coughing candy. You didn’t even notice,” she deadpanned, frowning at me.
That … was hilarious, actually.
“And what’s this?” I asked, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
She shrugged, her face starting to flush and her pupils dilating slightly.
“My father’s energy tea. He takes it sometimes, when we have big orders from Verdant Hill, or when lots of people get sick.”
I stared at her.
“You spiked me with an energy drink?”
“Yes. After all, I’m just a lewd woman. We won’t be getting much sleep tonight.” She pulled one of the ties on her robe, undoing it.
I felt my cheeks flush as my eyes locked onto the exposed flesh.
“You’re … sure?” I managed to get out.
“Yes. This is my answer. So … let’s go and do our duties, husband.” Her voice was entirely too flirty, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I started forwards, and she fled for the stairs to our room, giggling all the way.
But I caught her, throwing my wife over my shoulder like a sack of rice and racing towards the bedroom.
She was right. We didn’t get any sleep that night.
CHAPTER 3
CROSSED BLADES
It was another beautiful night. A cool breeze carried through the trees as Xiulan raised the hoe again, bringing it down to bite into the earth.
What are you trying to learn from this?
What was she missing? What profound secret eluded her? What was the purpose of this?
What was the advantage?
She could not comprehend it.
She knew that those with powerful wood-aligned Qi could grow entire forests in moments, or complete fields like this one faster than she could blink. Yet he didn’t.
Why? Why wait?
The first few days, when Master Jin had taught her how to use the hoe, had been interesting, and she had been eager to accomplish what he had shown her. To learn his ways, like she had begged him to. She pushed some Qi into the ground like he had said, even though it was rather wasteful. She’d done her tasks with diligence. She supposed this was her own fault, for expecting to learn things so swiftly.
She should be content. She was receiving enough cultivation resources that it was as if she were Master Jin’s favoured disciple rather than her own Sect’s! Especially the “maple syrup” they had often. The Wood Qi within it was added to her own, without concentration. It filled her reserves and strengthened her body. It was less effective in a single sitting than the few pills she had consumed, but she could consume it far more often than the pills. And quantity had a quality all its own.
Yet it was the Fire Qi within the syrup that astounded her. If she consumed a pill of a Fire Nature without extreme care, it would ignite her own Qi. It had the possibility to burn her cultivation, just as a fire would burn across the grasslands. When she consumed it as one did mortal food, it passed from her body without a need for careful monitoring and purging.
There was no worry about that here. It simply dissipated through her digestion, never once threatening her.
She was being largely treated as an honoured guest. She was fed, she was clothed, and she was given places to cultivate. Master Jin even drew a bath for her every day, and Senior Sister washed her back! She returned the favour, of course, as it was only polite.
Yet she was unsatisfied.
There was a burning hunger for knowledge. For ascension. For a life, lived on her own terms.
And for an escape from her ill feelings back at her Sect.
Xiulan shook her head, dispelling the thought. When Master Jin had offered to teach her how to properly grow the Spirit Herbs, it had felt like a failure. That she was being assigned a different task because she was too slow and too unskilled to comprehend his methods. Animals understood what he was doing! Spirit Beasts!
And yet she did not.
She sighed as she stopped fixing the rows of furrows she had been tasked with creating. She eyed the house of Master Jin, and her face flushed. She would be outside tonight. Senior Sister had asked for privacy.
She had to credit Disciple Gou Ren. He looked like a monkey, with the cunning of one as well, swiftly laying claim to a shack to have a roof over his head.
He had even offered to share it with her, but she refused. He was growing tolerable, as he no longer stared openly at her—but she would not be sharing a roof, especially a roof that small, with him. Trading commiserating expressions over how loud Senior Sister’s voice got was one thing. This was another.
She raised the hoe to strike the earth, but then paused.
What was she trying to learn from this?
She didn’t know.
She slumped against the fence and looked up to the moon.
‘A little blade of grass, grasping desperately for the heavens she can never reach.’
She froze at the voice, fury filling her veins. Her head snapped up, and she glared at the smug-looking cat, licking her paw.
“Begone,” she snarled at the cat. “Do not test me, little one.”
How the damnable little beast had somehow chanced upon that insult was infuriating. Her fists clenched at the familiar words that had been levelled against her Sect countless times. Dismissing their actions, and their cultivation. That the Verdant Blade Sect was as worthless as the grass that covered the ground.
It hurt because it had truth to it. They were a middling power at best. And a middling power in the Azure Hills meant that they would not even be a servant’s servant in other provinces.
The cat scoffed, lying down and watching her.
Xiulan grabbed the hoe and began again.
How many times had she seen sneering faces looking down their noses at the Verdant Blade Sect.
If she was honest with herself, sometimes she thought they were right. She never would reach the heavens in a place like the Azure Hills.
Yet simply striving upon this path was admirable in itself. She knew she was too weak to survive outside this small pond; that was why she had jumped on the opportunity to train under Master Jin.
‘She cannot figure even this out, how disappointing,’ the cat mocked, and it took all of Xiulan’s self-control not to throw the hoe at her. ‘You should leave. You are barely tolerated here, interloper. A worthless parasite, flouncing around and dining off our benevolence,’ Tigu purred.
“I am not the one who was kicked out of Master Jin and Senior Sister’s bed,” Xiulan shot back. The cat recoiled, her eyes going wide. “I’ve seen you skulking about and pining up at the windows.” Tigu hissed angrily, yet Xiulan continued.
“Shall I join them?” she mockingly pondered, purposefully straightening her back and pressing out her chest. “If I asked, I do not think they would deny me your place—”
She jerked her head back. Two strands of brown hair drifted on the breeze, severed by a blade of pure cutting Qi.
Xiulan smiled. She hadn’t had a proper spar in a while. The fox boy, Yun Ren, ran away from his punishment at the wedding after goading her. The monkey boy was subdued and had not offered her a reason to work out some of her stress.
She needed this. This … this would make her feel much better.
“I will gladly trade pointers with you, little sister,” Xiulan said, a smile spreading across her face. The Jade Grass Blades leapt into the air and floated obediently behind their Mistress. “Come, let us go to the forest, so we do not disturb Master Jin.”
The cat scoffed but followed, glaring daggers when Xiulan purposefully turned her back on the predator.
She was honestly surprised that the Spirit Beast did not pounce upon her. For all Tigu’s mocking, the Spirit Beast did seem to have some honour.
They met in a clearing in the forest, far enough from the house so as to not disturb the occupants. The cat was clearly seething, while an odd calm settled over Xiulan.
[Claw Arts: Five-Fold Blades]
Five disjointed claws made of Qi formed shards of light and murderous intent.
[Verdant Blade Sword Arts: Six Blades of Grass]
The swords grew and rose like blades of grass, thrusting proudly towards heaven.
The cat’s eyes narrowed at the number of swords—she knew it was less than Xiulan was capable of making.
“It is uncouth to bully the weak,” Xiulan informed her with a mocking grin.
At that, Tigu exploded into motion, her form blurring as she struck at Xiulan.
Perhaps, before Sun Ken, before she’d broken through to the Fourth Stage, such a strike would have been difficult for Xiulan to counter. Perhaps she might have strained a little. But Cai Xiulan had grown, and now her control over her floating blades did not waver. Five blades met five blades and stopped them dead. The sixth sliced up from beneath, forcing Tigu to throw her body out of the way.
“Who was reaching for a heaven they could never grasp?” Xiulan taunted. “The first blow is still yours, little sister.”
The bout continued and Xiulan had to admit, the cat was fast. Her leaps were nearing the level of a movement technique! Tigu had great instincts and struck with unrelenting ferocity. She was a small target and leveraged it well, bouncing like a demonic ball from one tree to another.
Xiulan didn’t move, rooting herself and simply standing with her arms behind her back. Blades of light struck blades of grass and were rebuffed. It was a stalemate.
Tigu was not a creature that gave up easily. Each moment she was in combat, she adapted and she grew stronger, feeding off battle like it was a bowl of rice. She got faster, her rage driving her forwards—yet not to the point of recklessness. A cold, calculating fury of a born fighter. Xiulan was impressed, even as the cat tried her damnedest to slash her to ribbons.
Finally, Xiulan could no longer just sit and defend. She had to start moving too. They sped through the forest, dodging and weaving between trees, yet their blades left not a trace upon their surroundings.
In one exchange, a leaf fell between them, floating between slashing claws and spinning swords. It touched the ground unmolested, not even the air disturbed along its passing.
The moon rose in the sky as they fought, blades slashing thirty times in a heartbeat, yet their exchange couldn’t last.
Tigu was visibly tiring, even if her blows were stronger than when she had started. Her eyes narrowed and her blades shot out like spears, carrying enough force to actually halt Xiulan’s own swords and forcing an opening.
Tigu shot through the gap, her eyes gleaming with victory—five more blades formed, all ready to strike at Xiulan.
To Xiulan’s surprise, they were partially blunted. They would hurt, yet they were not designed to kill. It was a little insulting for the cat to think she would strike true. But it was appreciated. Xiulan’s return strike would be just as measured.
Two more blades of grass formed, meeting five blades of light. Skill trumped talent. The blades, arranged like a flower bud, penetrated the center of Tigu’s formation and bloomed, shattering Tigu’s guard.
Xiulan’s palm impacted Tigu’s stomach, throwing the cat backwards and into a tree. A light blow, mere chastisement.
Yet the cat’s shock was clear as she lay there, glaring at Xiulan.
Tigu sprung back to her feet, full of fury and humiliation. In response, Xiulan raised an eyebrow and inclined her head.
“A good bout, little sister,” she said. The cat would have none of it. Her eyes narrowed.
Tigu hissed angrily. Ten blades of cutting intent formed. Twelve blades of grass rose at their Mistress’s command.
They prepared themselves for another round—
And then, there was a presence.
‘Who dares disturb this land’s peace?’ Ri Zu’s voice echoed.
They both froze.
A mighty cock strode from the trees, his eyes focused fully upon them. He nearly glowed under the light of the moon; his bearing was resplendent. Upon his back was a dark shadow.
‘The First Disciple says that you might have interrupted the Great Master and the Healing Sage with your roughhousing. Such things are unacceptable,’ Ri Zu’s voice squeaked.
“We were trading pointers, First Disciple,” Xiulan declared, clasping her hands in respect. Tigu looked once at Xiulan, then nodded. Bi De observed them, his head cocked to one side.
‘Oh? So late at night? Very well, then. The First Disciple begs you to allow him to trade pointers with you, then. We are all disciples here.’ The rooster’s Qi rose above his form as Ri Zu translated for him.
Xiulan swallowed. She was not used to being the inferior in these situations. “Treat us kindly, First Disciple?” she asked.
The rooster raised an eyebrow, studying her for a moment. Bi De inclined his head.
Xiulan shared a quick glance with Tigu. The cat nodded.
[Verdant Blade Sword Arts: Sixteen Blades of Grass!]
[Claw Arts: Ten-Fold Reaping Blades!]
They struck as one.
The rooster stroked his wattles with a wing … and then raised the limb into the air. The other stayed tucked against his side.
→
Xiulan staggered back to the field and collapsed against the fence post. Tigu flopped down beside her. Xiulan was exhausted and sweaty, yet she could not even say her pride had been too badly wounded. Bi De was in the Profound Realm—their fate had been sealed the moment he laid eyes upon them.
A clucking laugh echoed out as Bi De alighted in front of them. There was not a feather out of place.
‘The First Disciple declares that was most invigorating,’ Ri Zu said for him, never having moved from her position on the chicken’s back. Not that she had needed to.
“Thank you for your pointers, First Disciple,” Xiulan intoned. The cat just snorted.
The rooster nodded, his eyes on Xiulan as she staggered upright.
She was defeated, tired, and sore. That meant it was once more time for training. She locked her eyes upon the hoe. Maybe this time she would be able to learn something. She started her work again, trying to comprehend.
There was a cluck. Bi De was gazing at her. Slowly and with great purpose, he pulled back a leg, fixing a furrow that was inexact. There was something there. She watched intently as he did it again, energy swirling about him.
And then he turned and walked away. Xiulan sighed in frustration.
‘Disciple Xiulan,’ Ri Zu said as Bi De began to leave. ‘The First Disciple says, “Some things cannot be forced. Time is the only way. Rest for tonight, and meditate upon this.”’
Xiulan paused and lowered the hoe again, the feeling of defeat growing worse.
“Yes, Senior Brother,” she whispered, bowing in respect. The rooster nodded, then left, leaping into the air heading back towards the house. Xiulan sighed, limped over to the post, and sat down beside Tigu.
The cat gave her a halfhearted glare.
‘You were defeated most embarrassingly,’ the cat told her.
“And you were not?” Xiulan asked back.
The cat hissed.
‘I require a sparring partner. You can understand me the best, so I will allow you the honour.’
Xiulan pondered refusing her, but the cat was good. She just needed more technique.
And Tigu was surprisingly polite, as far as sparring partners went. Tigu had pulled her strike, even after their harsh words, which meant she was … safer than a good number of Xiulan’s previous sparring partners. Most, Xiulan knew, would not hesitate to “accidentally” run a rival through.
“At night, in the forest,” she agreed. “Smacking some sense into such a rotten child will do wonders for my health.”
Tigu sneered. ‘Wait for me, harlot. I will transcend the limitations of this small form!’
Xiulan nodded, amused. “I’m sure your human form will be as miserably ugly as your personality.”
The cat glared at her, and then a look of confusion crossed over her feline face.
‘My what form?’ Tigu asked.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Casualfarmer started writing after listening to his parents’ stories on their long drives to visit relatives. He had been saving money from his food-service-industry job to go to college for teaching when the COVID-19 pandemic hit. Beware of Chicken is Casualfarmer’s first original story. He lives in Ontario, Canada.
Casualfarmer, Beware of Chicken
