Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

In the courts of power, servants are like shadows—always present, always watching. The wise ruler remembers that walls have ears, and those ears belong to someone.

—Master Lin Feng, Scale of Heaven and Earth

Hot water enveloped Xiulan as she sank beneath the surface for the third time. The servants’ frantic footsteps echoed against the stone walls, amplified by her heightened senses. Each splash of fresh water thundered like a waterfall. The harsh scrape of buckets against stone made her wince.

"More hot water! Quickly!" A servant’s shout pierced through the chaos.

Heavy boots approached from outside. "Miss Lin, is everything—"

"Out! Out you brute!" The sharp whack of broom bristles against armor accompanied the maid’s shriek. "How dare you endanger Miss Lin’s reputation!"

The guard retreated under the assault of the cleaning implement. Xiulan might have laughed if her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire from oversensitivity. Every brush stroke sent lightning through her nerves.

"Miss Xiulan!" Auntie Lan burst through the doorway. "What happened? Are you—"

"Auntie Lan." Xiulan tried to focus through the overwhelming sensations. "The back garden needs your personal attention. There’s a mess that must be cleaned immediately."

Another servant attacked her arm with a stiff brush and thick soap. The lather felt like sandpaper. "My robes are ruined, but retrieve the emergency healing pills and the gold pill first. Then burn everything and rinse the ground."

"And Instructor Han must secure the courtyard. Only trusted people in or out until I’ve inspected all staff." The words tumbled out as Xiulan struggled to maintain her composure. Every splash echoed like thunder.

Auntie Lan blinked in confusion.

"Please, Auntie. Go now." Xiulan managed a gentle smile despite feeling like her skin might crawl off her body.

The elderly maid nodded and hurried away.

"What is this awful substance, Miss Lin?" A young servant held up a blackened cloth.

"Poison." Xiulan regretted the word as soon as it left her mouth.

Gasps erupted around the bathhouse. The servants redoubled their efforts, scrubbing harder as panic spread through their ranks. More buckets of water appeared as if summoned by magic.

When she was finally scrubbed raw, Xiulan slipped into the black-dyed martial arts robe. The fabric draped perfectly across her shoulders and the gold embroidery blended seamlessly into the dark fabric—perfect for a night operation.

"Miss Lin, please." Servant girl Ming held up a vibrant red sash. "An outfit needs contrast. At least this small touch of color would maintain propriety."

Xiulan accepted the sash with a slight nod. The girl made sense, even if stealth remained the priority. "Very well."

Two servants stepped forward to style her hair. "Up, please. A simple bun with a single braided ponytail." The women’s fingers worked swiftly through her dark strands. Each touch sent sparks of sensation across Xiulan’s scalp, but she forced herself to remain still.

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The mirror reflected a familiar yet altered image. The martial outfit hugged her frame perfectly, the red sash providing a striking accent against the darkness. But beneath the surface, power surged through her body like lightning trapped in a bottle. Energy coiled in her core, demanding release.

Xiulan clenched her jaw. The sun had already passed its peak—there were only hours remaining until nightfall. That’s when she would need to move.

She left the bathhouse and strode toward the back garden, where five servants wielded long wooden poles like giant chopsticks. They prodded at the black, tar-covered objects scattered across the ground. One servant snagged a pill from the mess, lifting it carefully.

"Gently now!" Another servant dunked the retrieved pill in a water basin. Her cloth squeaked against the surface as she polished away the residue. Then she brought it to Lan Zhao.

Auntie Lan brightened at Xiulan’s approach and extended her palm. The two emergency healing pills and the golden meridian pill gleamed against her weathered skin.

"Thank heaven we saved these." Auntie Lan pressed them into Xiulan’s hand. "But what happened here? This black substance that covered you and now mars the garden—"

"I walk the path to immortality now." Xiulan said as she tucked the pills into her sleeve.

Auntie Lan’s mouth dropped open. "What? How could you possibly—"

Xiulan pointed to where servants dumped bucket after bucket of water onto the sticky black residue. "The evidence spreads before you. I broke through this morning while practicing alchemy."

Auntie Lan’s weathered face crumpled. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed as she processed Xiulan’s words. Each line etched deeper into her features spoke of decades serving the Lin family—and now the prospect of losing one she’d watched grow from infancy.

Xiulan’s chest tightened at the elderly maid’s expression. The Empire’s cultivation laws loomed over them like storm clouds. Even the lowest cultivator faced restrictions on mortal interactions. Those who achieved immortality abandoned their earthly ties completely, ascending beyond the mundane world.

"I know this path leads to difficult choices." Xiulan kept her voice gentle but firm. "But I am only on the first step. We have time before any separation would be forced."

Auntie Lan dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

"For now, please gather all household staff in the main courtyard garden." Xiulan straightened her black robes. "I need to speak with Instructor Han first, then address everyone together."

"Yes, Miss Xiulan." Auntie Lan bowed low, her movements stiff with emotion. She turned and walked away, her usual grace weighted.

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Xiulan turned and sought her guards.

Instructor Han’s broad-shouldered silhouette moved between the guard posts along the courtyard wall. Xiulan strode across the garden to intercept him.

"Instructor Han."

He turned and bowed. "Miss Lin."

"Take me to the equipment storage."

"Is something amiss?" His weathered face creased with concern.

"I need weapons."

Han frowned, but nodded. He led her across the courtyard to the converted side building. The scent of leather and metal filled the barracks. New beds lined the walls, each with a sturdy chest beside it. At the far end, racks of weapons and gear stood organized in neat rows.

"What do you require?" Han asked.

"A concealed dagger—something that fits in my sleeve. And a short spear."

"The training spears are—"

"No." Xiulan cut through his words. "I need real weapons, not practice ones."

Han’s expression hardened, but he moved to the weapon racks without argument. He selected a spear and presented it for inspection. Xiulan grasped the shaft, setting the butt against the floor. The tip reached her shoulder, its foot-long double-edged blade gleaming in the dim light. A small crescent guard marked the transition between blade and shaft.

"Will you tell me what’s happening?" Han’s quiet question carried genuine concern.

Xiulan studied the spear’s blade while weighing her response. The weapon would serve her needs.

She looked at her head guard. Han deserved to know—there had been so many opportunities for him and the guards to betray her. But she knew it wasn’t him.

"I’ve become a cultivator." Xiulan met his gaze. "And tonight, I’m rescuing Mei Chen."

Han blinked twice, mouth ajar.

"I broke through this morning." Xiulan repeated each word with careful emphasis.

Silence stretched between them. The distant sounds of servants moving through the garden filtered through the walls. Han stood motionless, processing her words. A full minute passed before he exhaled sharply.

"Miss Lin, even for a cultivator, this presents extreme danger. The breakthrough just occurred—you can’t possibly have adjusted to your enhanced strength. Our combat training barely scratched the surface of proper technique."

"They’ve held her for an entire day." Xiulan tested the spear’s balance with a slight twist. "After everything they’ve done, I won’t leave her there past nightfall. She comes home tonight."

"Haa..." Han rubbed his weathered face. "We have a few hours until sunset. Energy and exhaustion shouldn’t limit you anymore, correct?"

Xiulan nodded firmly. "Training would help, but first I need to handle something else. I’ll return for personal lessons afterward."

"What task demands attention now?"

"Checking a rat to see what disease it carries." Xiulan’s fingers tightened around the spear shaft.

Xiulan strode into the main garden where servants clustered in small groups, their whispers echoing against her enhanced hearing like waves crashing on rocks. The spear balanced perfectly across her shoulders, its weight a comforting presence.

"Form a line!" Her command cut through the murmurs. The servants scrambled to comply, arranging themselves in a rough formation.

"Better." Xiulan paced before them, boots crunching against the gravel path. "When I stop in front of you, shout ’Miss Lin’ as loudly as possible."

Confused glances passed between the servants. Xiulan stopped before the first one—an elderly kitchen worker.

"M-Miss Lin?" The uncertain squeak drew a frown from Xiulan.

"Louder! Like you mean it!"

"Miss Lin!" The next servant’s shout carried more conviction.

The pattern continued down the line, each cry hammering against Xiulan’s heightened senses. She gritted her teeth against the assault of sound, but pressed forward. Halfway through, a particular voice stopped her cold.

Xiulan spun toward a young servant girl dressed in plain brown robes. "Again."

"Miss Lin!" The girl’s voice trembled.

"Your name?"

"Ming Hua, Miss Lin." Sweat beaded on the girl’s forehead.

"You called my name earlier today." Xiulan stepped closer. "Near the back garden."

Ming Hua’s face paled. Her hands twisted in her robes.

"Orders were explicit—no one enter the main residence without permission." Xiulan’s words cut like steel. "Why were you there?"

Ming Hua remained frozen.

"Follow." Xiulan pointed at Ming Hua. "The rest of you are dismissed." She turned to stride toward the main building, boots crunching against the gravel path. Ming Hua’s trembling footsteps followed behind, accompanied by Auntie Lan’s steadier tread.

The main hall’s familiar scents of incense and polished wood enveloped them. Xiulan settled into the carved wooden chair, crossing one leg over the other. The black martial robes rustled with the movement. "Kneel."

"But Miss..." Ming Hua wrung her hands. "I didn’t do anything!"

"You dare speak to Miss Lin with such disrespect?" Auntie Lan stepped forward, radiating disapproval.

Ming Hua dropped to her knees, head bowed. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the latticed windows cast harsh shadows across her face.

"You saw quite a lot earlier today, didn’t you?" Xiulan drummed her fingers against the chair’s armrest.

The servant mumbled something unintelligible, shoulders hunched.

"Let me share something interesting." Xiulan leaned forward. "I’ve become an immortal cultivator. I can sense truth and lies now."

Of course, that was a bald-faced lie, but there was no need to tell her that.

Ming Hua’s face drained of color. Her hands trembled against the polished floor.

"Here’s what will happen." Xiulan softened her tone. "Answer my questions truthfully, and I’ll protect you from whoever ordered you to spy on me. You’re just following orders, after all. Mercy awaits those who cooperate. Wouldn’t you prefer that?"

Ming Hua pressed her forehead to the floor. "Please, Miss Lin! Ask anything! I’ll tell you everything!"