Shen Zhimei was at a loss of words. Watching Kang Yilan learn was a wonder to behold, in all facets of her life, in fact. She knew exactly what she was getting into when she had offered to mentor the wayward ex-convict, but this exceeded her every expectation.

Tying her karmic thread to someone that she knew could defeat Tian Mo was an expensive gamble, one which had cost her a lot, but in the end, the gamble had paid off, more than she could possibly have imagined.

The girl had learned an entire logographical system in two mere weeks, and was well on her way to mastering her own unique style of Martial Arts. It wouldn’t do to inflate her ego by informing her of her talent, and yet she knew that the girl needed that extra boost in confidence.

Yet, she couldn’t risk having her sit on her laurels. There were things that they had yet to accomplish, matters of importance that would decide the fate of the entire world.

Yet… she could not help but feel content in guiding the young tiger. She wasn’t a paragon of morality, herself, but the girl was fine the way she was. You didn’t go an entire year spoon-feeding an old woman gruel without having some form of goodness in your heart, and neither did you go for so long carrying the guilt of unfilial behavior towards what couldn’t be described as a father, but a wastrel.

She was angry, however. There was barely an end to the boundless anger buried deep in her heart, and for the life of her, Shen Zhimei was afraid of what would happen if she gave the poor girl the tools to unearthing it. It was why she was still focusing on the basics when her student was so completely overqualified, capable of probably slipping in and out of the State of Wu at will if taught right, but it was the fear of creating another Tian Mo which prevented her from doing her level best to boost her tutelage forward.

She had to start letting go of her anger, and if that required a mentor to care for her like her parents never would, then she would gladly take that burden.

After all… the idea of having a daughter did intrigue her.

000

What was the point of being attached to a world which refused to accept you? Han Yu Jie meditated on that for a month while she trained her basics with her mentor. Kong Yimu did not coddle his disciples, as a man from the Jianghu was wont to be heavy-handed.

When she returned to the man, she told him of what happened; she had successfully stolen the Dragon-Fang Spear, but upon her first duel, had been handily defeated.

Her mentor had said the same thing to her; she lacked conviction. She held onto two different words with an iron grip, but as they gradually diverged, she threatened to tear herself apart. She was at a crossroads.

Pick the normal world, or the Martial Arts world. If she did not choose, she would forever be locked out of both worlds, a pariah without the ability to properly fit in anywhere she went.

When it all came down to it, the choice was easy; she chose to join the people that wouldn’t care about the choices she made in her life that would bring her happiness. They wouldn’t ostracize her for being… different.

With that in mind, the choice was one which was easily made. She embraced the Jianghu with both arms and dove head first into training, now much less encumbered by the knowledge that she belonged to one world first and foremost.

On the bridge before the Wushu Woods, she sat down to meditate, stepping into the State of Enlightenment, letting the energies of Heaven and Earth wash over her, seeping into her body before circulating in her meridians, finding their way into her core where it settled. Finally, she branded it, transforming it into Chi, began to accumulate more to make up for the Chi spent traveling all the way there.

When she opened her eyes, the man on the bridge with the conical hat stood, a weapon wrapped in black cloth on his hand. She stood up and approached him slowly. “My name is Han Yu Jie, mentored by ‘Wu Lord’ Kong Yimu, the Scourge of Beijing. I request a challenge, such that I may win what I once lost.”

The man’s grin reflected the moonlight as he tossed the hat into the air, revealing a head of cascading dark hair, and sharp, deceptive eyes. “Fang LiHao, the Bridge Keeper. It’s a pleasure to know that my words inspired you to acquire more power.”

“I hope you’ve enjoyed holding onto my spear,” she responded. “Because you will not do so for any longer.”

“A month of training does not bridge the gap between our power,” he responded amusedly. “Come back in a few more years. Granted that I am not dead, your spear will go nowhere, unless the Heavenly Dragon Sect Master comes to reclaim what is his.”

She scoffed at the idea. For a Sect Master to descend to retrieve stolen goods… there would be too much face to lose in such a case, and the Wulin pansies could not live without face, even when the solution was an obvious one.

“It will be over in one exchange,” she repeated.

“You speak truth,” he chortled. “Come.”

She did. She bent her knees, leaned forward, and on the cusp of falling, lightened and amplified her steps explosively, keeping her eyes on the Bridge Keeper. He was smart. While he spoke like he underestimated her, he was not so stupid as to act on his estimation, taking her for a warrior.

But she was already one step ahead. While he had already brought the spear to bear, she had used her first punch as a feint, instead directing a kick which struck the man right above his center, at his sternum.

His ribs shattered as one, and he fell on his knees to throw up some blood. “Wave… attacks?” He spat. “My, you are… definitely the… Scourge of Beijing’s disciple.”

“You have something that’s mine,” she said, striding over to the spear on the ground. She kicked it up and grabbed it. The spear arts were her forte. Knowing that she had defeated the man who had defeated her effortlessly with a spear, barehanded, was proof that she had become stronger. With a spear in hand, she would not even have needed to feint to defeat the man before her.

“Beware,” the Bridge Keeper continued. “Past these woods are people several times stronger than myself, all of which could defeat me the way you just did. If you wish to continue, know that I have warned you of the impending danger.”

Han Yu Jie simply scoffed. “Please. Your forest is just in the way of where I am going.”

“And where are you headed?”

She looked down at the bleeding man, a glint of bloodthirst in her grin. “The Kunlun mountains. If I am to reach the peak, then I shall have to beat the ones at the Peak of the World.”

Baffled, he had no more words left. She had no words for him, either, deciding to stride forward into the dense forest, twirling the spear as she walked.

She would taste no more defeat as it was a thing of the past. Right past the Wushu Woods, she would restock on her rations in Jixing City.

000

He had walked for weeks without encountering a single living soul. Whether that was a testament to his luck, or the size of the land, it mattered little, for in his solitude, Bai Guo had lived off the land, albeit with difficulty. Field-dressing a carcass came easily, but starting a fire was another matter. He had been eating raw meat and fruit for weeks before finally figuring it out, and by then, he had already gotten used to the metallic tang of uncooked meat.

He had met no one, so he had no one to ask where Kunlun was. He had left the main road thinking he could cut the path short, but he was met with only wilderness. Eventually, he ended up in the Gobi desert. The arid wastelands were inhospitable, but Bai Guo centered himself and traversed it anyway, until finally he found another road which he vowed to stick with.

Finally, after the fourth week of travel, he came upon a lonely caravan. They had a misunderstanding at first, thinking him a bandit, but when he reassured them of his innocence, they had allowed him to come with them to their destination: Jixing City.

“Hey!” A girl ducked out of a carriage window and gave Bai Guo a wide smile. “Wanna come in and play a game?”

Bai Guo looked away, face stern. “Soldiers don’t play games.”

“You’re a soldier?”

He grimaced at the reveal. Now she would know him as a deserter. “No.”

“You shouldn’t lie to get attention, you know,” the girl said. “I think you seem interesting without being a soldier.”

He turned to look at her curiously, and his heart almost skipped a beat. She was a pretty girl, a little chubby around the cheeks, but still she glowed with the unmistakable shine of youth. “I’m Bai Guo,” he said.

“I’m Mei Yun,” she responded. “You seem tired. Want to sit in my carriage?” He decided to take her up on the offer. With a short hop, he grabbed onto the wooden ledge of the horse-pulled carriage and threw himself in with flourish.

“Wow!” She clapped her hands together while he put his Guan Dao down. “You’re really agile! Did you train hard to become a soldier?”

“Yes,” he replied easily. “Soldiering has been in my family for generations. My father, and my father before him fought as soldiers.”

She folded her arms and pouted. “You know you could die, right?”

“I am well aware.”

She said nothing to that. Instead, she looked for a new topic to talk about, and found one easily. “My parents are merchants,” she said. She pointed forward at the group of people walking some livestock. “They got off the carriage because they wanted to give Old Horsey a break.”

“Should I be here, then?” He asked.

“No, it’s fine. Old Horsey is made of tougher stuff. Besides,” she smiled. “Now you get to keep me company.”

Not knowing what to say to that, he decided to just nod. “What types of wares do you sell?”

Underneath the bench of the carriage were several chests. She pulled one out to reveal a host of ornately carved wood sculptures; animals, people, and objects. “We deal in art,” she smiled. “My dad is a great wood carver, and my mom loves to paint, so they mixed their skills together.” She picked one up, a tiger with a ferocious snarl on its face. “This paint job was mine, but dad still carved it. What do you think of it?”

He took it in his own hands to examine, and found it pleasing to the eye. The texture was also very unique, almost as if the carver managed to etch its fur. He returned it to Mei Yun with a grateful nod. “It looks beautiful.” Rummaging through his pockets, he found a carving knife. “Do you have any blocks of wood? I would like to try.”

She began rummaging through the chest. “I think I saw a spare block of wood lying around somewhere- aha! Here,” she picked one out and held it to the young soldier, who took it.

For a moment, he looked for inspiration to strike. He couldn’t do a tiger, because that was derivative, and seemed really hard.

Unwittingly, his eyes fell on Mei Yun’s excited expression, and inspiration struck like a hammer to an anvil.

He would carve her face. With a rare smile, he spoke. “I know what to carve. Please sit still.”

In the first minute, she held up a glowing smile as he traced her round face on the wooden block. After the first ten minutes, her smile became strained. After half an hour, she could barely hold up her expression. After an hour, she was bored.

“Are you done, yet?” She complained. “Father always finishes in ten minutes or less!”

“It’s done,” he said, turning the figurine towards her proudly, awaiting praise for his hard work.

She took it in her hands. “It’s… it’s good,” she said, her voice shaky. “But you could use more practice,” she decided.

The face that the carving tried to depict was malformed, with uneven eyes, a large, bulbous nose and barely any lips. The less said about the ‘hair’ the better, but Mei Yun did not raise the issue, finding the attempt deeply endearing.

Bai Guo nodded readily. Of course. Practice in all things made perfect, he believed. She held the carving close to her chest. “I think I will keep this. It’s charming.”

His heart clenched at the smile. “You’re beautiful,” he decided to say.

“Oh!” She hid her face in her hands, but he swore that he had caught her blush. “Stop it,” she complained.

He chuckled at the sight. This was a balm to his long-hardened soul. He was still a warrior at heart, but in that moment, he realized what a warrior needed.

They needed something to fight for. He would fight for Mei Yun, die for her if need be.

He eventually met her parents, a pleasant bunch, and was given a bedroll to sleep on, a welcome change after having to sleep on rocks, sand and grass for the past month. In the meanwhile, he got to know more about the soulful Mei Yun, finding more things to love about her as each day passed.

In the dead of night, he woke up to the unmistakable sound of an arrow flying. He got out of his bedroll in an instant and jumped in front of the trajectory of the arrow headed straight towards Mei Yun, catching it with expert ease. Such was the extent of his new powers, now that his Mentor had unlocked his latent abilities.

“Bandit attack!” He howled. Immediately, the caravan woke up and took cover behind the carriages. Bai Guo made for his Guan Dao and hefted it before running towards the band of lurking bandits, hiding out behind the rocks.

They would die.

The moment they spotted him, a dark wraith with a pole arm travelling at them faster than even a horse could, they turned tail and fled, but they could not escape the reach of his weapon. The few that stood and fought were rended to pieces in heartbeats, and those that fired arrows from afar found their attempts to be fruitless as the war-hardened eighteen-year-old danced around them, caught them and parried them with the haft of his weapon.

Come one, kill one. Come ten, kill ten. He was unstoppable.

When it was all over, he quickly dug a furrow into the sand with his spear and dumped the bodies inside. He wouldn’t spare the effort to burn the bodies, leaving them to the buzzards so they would not even have an intact corpse.

He returned to see the camp in total chaos. The initial hail of arrows had taken their toll. He joined in, ripping tourniquets and dressing wounds the way his mentor had taught him. The herbalists were hard at work mixing styptic powders, for both the people and the livestock.

When the worst of it had ended, the caravan had counted their injured. With a hundred and thirty caravanners travelling with them, thirty had been injured, and two had died. Mei Yun and her family was safe.

The leader of the caravan approached him warily. He was a middle-aged man with a bald head and a fat stomach. “You killed the bandits?”

“Yes,” Bai guo responded honestly.

“I thank you,” the caravan leader said. “You saved many lives today. I implore you to stay with our caravan until we reach Jixing City. It would seem that we are safest when in your protection.”

Bai Guo gave the man a curt nod. “I will,” he simply said.

The rest of the night, he did not go to sleep, wary of any and all movements in the dark. He had been granted a bow and a quiver of arrows for his sentry duty along with some other uninjured men of the caravan, but that entire night, the only movements were of desert critters and tumbling weeds.

That morning, the air was heavy with grief. They had lost one more person. They had succumbed to exsanguination. The other injured had all been stabilized, and were on their way to a speedy recovery.

Mei Yun was crestfallen. The family of the dead would have spent seven days in mourning in the spot where they had died, but the caravan leader had told them all that they would have to move eventually, less risking the ire of more bandits in the area. Mei Yun had known one of the dead, the cousin of a friend of hers.

Bai Guo had exchanged words with the caravan leader, and had assured him that no one would touch the caravan in the seven days which they would spend.

It gave… ample time for Bai Guo and Mei Yun to get to know each other.

In midday, the caravan had prepared a huge meal on account of the three cows that had died, forcing them to eat them. The affair was a sombre one, but Bai Guo offered Mei Yun the support necessary to ascend her grief. He knew death like the back of his hand, and she saw that somehow.

During the seven days of his vigil, two more bandit groups came to finish what the first one started, and they both met a short and swift end at the edge of his pole arm.

Nothing else came of it but that, and gradually, the tension in the air eased, letting the families of the dead continue their mourning in peace.

And while they did so, love continued to sprout.

Behind a rock a ways from the caravan, Mei Yun and Bai Guo made love. Though they were naked, the rigor of the activity had heated them up considerably, both of them glistening with sweat as he charged in repeatedly.

When he looked into her eyes, shining with pleasure and comfort, he decided to confirm his feelings for her. “I love you.”

He arrived before she did, to her mild disappointment. Despite his lacklustre performance, she still hugged him. “I love you, too.”

“I’m,” Bai Guo began uncertainly. “I’m going somewhere soon, but I’ll be back for you!” He said quickly. “Will you wait for me?” He asked, heart aching.

She pulled back, looked him straight in his eyes with a serious expression and nodded. “I promise I will wait for you. After all,” she smiled sweetly. “I may have your child.”

He froze.

He was going to be a father…?

…How did you make children anyway?