Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

When wind meets mountain, the mountain does not yield through force, but teaches the wind new paths. This is the way of true wisdom.

—Sage Master Chen Feng, Voice of the Four Winds

Xiulan opened her mouth to question the departure from protocol, but froze. Why single her out? The thought vanished as instinct screamed danger.

The elder's blade whistled through the air. If not for countless hours sparring with her companions over the last month, if Severing Light hadn't already been in her hand, the sword would have pierced her heart. She twisted the weapon's shaft upward, deflecting the lightning-fast thrust with a hair's breadth to spare.

Xiulan jumped backward as she spun Severing Light in a defensive spiral, the glaive's blade leaving silver arcs through the air. She deflected a second strike. The impact jarred through her arms despite her perfect form.

The measured precision in his attacks suggested he tested rather than fought—but each blow threatened to shatter her guard. Her muscles strained against forces that would have crushed stone.

Raw qi slammed into her like a tidal wave. Xiulan threw open her meridians, releasing the energy stored within her core. The power flooded through her pathways, countering the elder's spiritual pressure before it could lock her joints in place. The competing energies crackled across her skin.

She launched into a series of rapid thrusts with Severing Light, forcing the elder to maintain his distance. The weapon's reach gave her an advantage—if she could keep him from closing in. Each strike probed for openings while denying him the chance to slip inside her guard.

The elder stepped forward through her attacks. His movements gained subtle speed with each exchange. Xiulan's deflections came a heartbeat too slow. Her precise jabs found only empty air. Step by step, he pressed closer, shrinking the space she needed to wield her weapon effectively.

The elder finally broke through her defenses. Xiulan stomped the ground hard, channeling qi through her foot.

"Water Stepping Foot!"

The cobblestones erupted beneath them. A geyser of stone fragments burst upward in a defensive spray. Xiulan pulled two iron darts from her belt before the rock geyser even reached its peak. The elder's form blurred around the eruption almost exactly as she expected.

She drove the darts into the ground and vaulted backward using Severing Light. Lightning crackled across the arena floor where she'd stood moments before.

The electrical discharge raced toward the elder but dispersed harmlessly around his body—his qi density proved too thick for the attack to penetrate.

Shit.

She maintained her distance while infusing her remaining darts with pure yin energy. Yang qi flowed into Severing Light's blade, creating a perfect balance. The weapon hummed with power beneath her fingers.

If only Mei Chen could lend her spiritual strength right now. The thought flickered as she watched the elder's calculated approach.

He burst into a blurred zig-zag across the arena. His speed exceeded her ability to follow, but she didn't need to see him. In one fluid motion, she planted iron darts in a line before her and slashed Severing Light through the air.

The carefully balanced yin and yang energies did not like being suddenly separated. Lightning erupted between the planted darts, forming a crackling wall of pure electrical force directly in the elder's path. The barrier illuminated his startled expression for a fraction of a second.

The elder's sword traced intricate patterns through the air. A wave of yin-infused wind howled across the arena, so cold it crystallized moisture from the air. The frigid blast smothered her lightning wall, extinguishing the yang energy before surging forward like an avalanche.

Xiulan channeled qi into a hasty defensive barrier. The moment her focus shifted, he was suddenly far, far too close. A solid strike crashed into her side with enough force to launch her body through the air. She slammed against the arena's boundary field, the impact driving the air from her lungs.

This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com

Blood filled her mouth as she raised up onto to her knees. Sharp pain stabbed through her ribcage with each shallow breath. The elder hadn't held back at all—the precise strike had fractured at least two ribs.

Xiulan forced herself onto her feet despite the stabbing pain in her side. The elder's sword whistled through the air in another lethal thrust. She twisted Severing Light to deflect the strike, metal screaming against metal.

He's not testing anymore. This is an execution. The realization crystallized. Each strike targeted vital points with devastating force.

Xiulan spun around his next attack, her boots sliding across ice-slicked stone. She reached down and drew two shield talismans that crackled with energy as she activated them. Blue barriers of pure qi materialized just as the elder's blade descended.

The first shield shattered with a thunderous crack. Fragments of spiritual energy scattered across the arena floor. The second barrier bought precious seconds as Xiulan pulled her qi inward, condensing it into a tight spiral within her core.

She brought her palms together directly before the elder's face. Raw energy pulsed between her hands.

"Thunder God Claps for Arrogant Young Masters!"

The compressed qi exploded outward in a devastating whirlwind. The blast caught the elder squarely, launching him skyward in a tight spiral. His blue robes whipped violently as he spun through the air.

But the fall turned into a graceful arc downward. He landed in a precise stance, robes settling around him with practiced flourish.

Nearby, Xiulan caught glimpses through the barrier's translucent surface. Feng Yu pounded against the white energy field, each impact sending ripples across its surface. Beyond her, Skyward disciples stood with swords drawn while Mei Chen and Ren Chun argued with them frantically.

Pain stabbed through Xiulan's side with each labored breath. Blood dripped from her split lip onto the cracked stone beneath her feet. Her ribs screamed in protest as she shifted her stance.

The elder's hands moved to weave some complex pattern. Golden light coalesced between his palms, forming massive ethereal hands that radiated divine energy. "Your evil taints the very earth beneath our feet. Such darkness threatens the balance of the heavens themselves. I shall purge you from this world before your corruption can spread further."

Huh? Xiulan looked down at her hands. Black wisps rose from her palms, and a pool of black seeped into the fractured arena floor.

The elder stood unwinded, his robes pristine despite their battle. Not a single hair had fallen out of place.

What the fuck.

Two giant golden hands formed from the air on her left and right and they slammed toward her. A deep gong resonated through the air as they closed in from both sides.

Xiulan raised Severing Light, channeling every scrap of qi she possessed into the weapon. The barrier of energy felt pathetically weak against the elder's overwhelming spiritual pressure. His golden core cultivation dwarfed her power completely.

The hands snapped shut, but a thunderous explosion rocked the arena as they detonated upward instead of crushing her.

The white barrier shattered with a sound like breaking glass. Screams erupted from the crowd as spiritual energy rained down around them. Her companions' shouts finally reached her ears through the dissipating barrier.

Master Qingfeng placed his hand on her shoulder, his sheathed sword extended. Raw power radiated from the weapon, having torn through the elder's technique like paper.

She wanted to say something, but her throat had gone dry except for the taste of blood in her mouth.

Qingfeng stepped forward, each movement radiating controlled power. He positioned himself between Xiulan and the Skyward elder.

"The five elements flow through all things, yet you focus solely on the visible while ignoring the essential balance." Master Qingfeng's words cut through the tense air.

The Skyward elder bristled, thrusting a hand forward as a surge of golden qi erupted toward Qingfeng. With a flick of his wrist, Master Qingfeng's sheath shimmered, sending a thin crescent of silvery energy slicing through the attack, dissipating it into harmless sparks.

"You dare—"

"When wind meets mountain, does the mountain yield? Or does the wind learn new paths?" Master Qingfeng traced a symbol in the air with the tip of his sword.

A spiraling vortex of green-tinted qi materialized and shot toward the Skyward elder. The elder's fingers blurred into a series of intricate mudras, summoning a golden barrier. The vortex collided with the shield, sending ripples of energy crackling across the arena floor. Both defense and attack evaporated into colored motes.

Xiulan steadied herself against Severing Light's shaft, watching the exchange intently. Blood dripped from her split lip onto the stone.

"True destiny flows like water around stone, adapting rather than forcing its path." Master Qingfeng's blade shifted slightly, his voice calm yet unyielding.

He slashed outward, and another crescent strike shot forward, this one jagged and swift, like a blade of lightning. The Skyward elder leapt back, his feet skimming the ground as he redirected the attack with a golden arc of his own.

"You attempt to dam the river with brute force?" Qingfeng's blade moved seamlessly, channeling qi with every subtle motion.

The Skyward elder took a defensive stance, his qi now pulsing in visible waves. "This matter—"

"Karma marks all souls, but judgment belongs to heaven alone." Master Qingfeng raised his left hand, tracing a vertical line in the air.

A cold blue light flared to life, forming a spear of pure yin energy that he thrust forward. The elder roared, unleashing a torrent of golden qi bolts to counter it. The two attacks clashed mid-air with a thunderous explosion, sending shards of energy scattering across the arena like fractured glass.

A chorus of screams erupted as people began to flee in earnest. An icy wind swept through the arena and across the square.

Frost crackled across the scattered puddles as Master Qingfeng advanced another step. His blade swept upward, releasing a crescent arc of frost-laced qi. The Skyward elder countered with a fiery surge, the two forces colliding in a violent hiss of steam.

"The strongest steel requires both fire and water, heat and cooling." Master Qingfeng's words carried the weight of centuries as his movements became faster.

His blade released a barrage of smaller, needle-like strikes of qi, forcing the elder to deflect and dodge in rapid succession. "One cannot forge greatness through persecution alone."

The Skyward elder's face darkened with each proclamation. His fingers tightened around his weapon's hilt as he summoned a golden disk of qi, spinning it toward Qingfeng with a single wordless shout.

Master Qingfeng shifted his stance, stepping aside at the last possible moment. He thrust his blade in a seemingly casual motion, sending a beam of qi slicing through the elder's disk, shattering it.

"Five elements in harmony create life itself. Five elements in conflict breed only destruction." Qingfeng's voice echoed as he advanced once more, his blade tracing another symbol.

A wave of earth-toned energy rippled out from his sword, like a fissure splitting the ground. The Skyward elder leapt upward, but Qingfeng flicked his fingers, and the wave exploded into countless streams of energy that chased the elder's retreat.

Sunlight filtered through dissipating clouds above the arena. The morning air grew thick with competing spiritual pressures. The Skyward elder landed, his steps now less certain, his breathing heavier.

"A true master sees the dao in all things, not merely what aligns with their preconceptions." Master Qingfeng's power pulsed outward, his form almost blurring as his energy merged seamlessly with his movements.

His blade flicked again, and another ranged strike—a whirling spiral of wind—forced the elder to his knees as he struggled to maintain his defense.

"Your blindness dishonors your position." The words were quiet, but they reverberated like thunder.

The Skyward elder struggled to stand, his earlier confidence cracking. His golden aura flickered erratically as if straining under its own weight.

"The wind howls loudest before dying, while true power moves in silence." Master Qingfeng advanced yet again, raising his blade one last time.

A crackling storm of energy coalesced around him, each element—fire, water, earth, wood, and metal—flowing in perfect harmony. He thrust the blade upward, unleashing a final, overwhelming qi strike that spiraled downward from the heavens toward the elder like an unrelenting tidal wave.

The Skyward elder gave into the pressure and placed his hands on the stone ground, a golden turtle shell forming to shield his back. The strike spent itself on the protection, eliminating both.

The elder slumped, his golden aura dimming.

"Perhaps it's time you remembered the difference between authority and wisdom," Master Qingfeng said, his blade held steady. His qi radiated calm power, like a mountain unshaken by the fiercest of storms. The Skyward elder, silent and humbled, knelt in the shattered remnants of his pride.

Master Qingfeng lowered his blade and stepped forward. "I will take this one with me."

The Skyward elder pushed himself back up onto his knees, teeth grinding audibly. "You have no right! The Treasure Pavilion breaks its tenets today!"

Movement drew Xiulan's attention to the arena gates. Three more Skyward elders emerged from the morning mist, their blue and silver robes pristine. Her muscles tensed, anticipating another fight despite her broken ribs screaming in protest.

The new arrivals made no aggressive moves. They stood like ancient statues, watching the confrontation unfold with expressionless faces. Witnesses rather than combatants.

Master Qingfeng gestured toward Xiulan. "This one owes me a debt greater than any applicant could owe your school. I require its return."

He turned to face her directly. Blood dripped steadily from her split lip as she met his gaze. "Lin Xiulan, a profound favor you owe."

"Dang lu shi dao zhi yi," Master Qingfeng's voice carried the weight of ancient power. "I invite you to repay your debt. Step forward into the shi tu zhi shen qi—the sacred bond of master and disciple."

The spiritual pressure in the arena shifted, becoming thick enough to steal her breath. She gripped Severing Light tighter as each shallow inhale raised daggers of pain. The weight of Master Qingfeng's declaration settled over her like lead.

Understanding flooded through her. The memory of that first sip of Heaven Grass tea in Master Qingfeng's study flashed clearly. It stretched across time to connect that moment to this one. Every step since then had led her here, inevitable as the tide.

How foolish to think I could simply join a school. The thought brought a smile despite her split lip stinging. She didn't understand why he sent her here, though. Did he want her to get throttled just to learn these assholes would seek her death?

She couldn't look at the blue-robed sect cultivators. Their presence faded into irrelevance, becoming nothing more than scattered clouds before the rising sun.

Only her companions mattered now—Feng Yu's fierce protectiveness, Ren Chun's protection of her family, and Mei Chen's devoted spirit. Their faces reflected varying degrees of concern and confusion as they watched from nearby.

Xiulan straightened and stepped forward. The weight of destiny settled around her shoulders like a cloak. She'd already chosen this path the moment she accepted that first cup of tea, even if she hadn't known it then.

The invitation hung in the air. The sacred bond of master and disciple. Balance demanded restoration.

In front of Master Qingfeng, Xiulan lowered herself to her knees. Each breath burned, but the pain seemed distant now—irrelevant before the profound weight of this moment. She raised Severing Light horizontally above her head.

"Dizi yi chi xin gui yi." The ancient words flowed from her lips with perfect clarity. She pressed her forehead to the fractured stone, completing the formal kowtow.

"With the heart of a disciple, I accept Master's guidance."