First Lesson
1060 Words
The training courtyard was massive, surrounded by high walls covered in climbing vines. Wooden training dummies lined one side, their surfaces scarred from countless strikes. Weapon racks held swords, spears, and staffs. In the center, a circular platform made of polished stone gleamed in the afternoon sun.
Master Zhou waited there, hands clasped behind his back. He looked even older in daylight, but his posture was straight as a blade.
"Good, you are awake," he said as Xin and Princess Mei approached. "I was beginning to wonder if we would need to drag you from bed."
"Sorry, Master. I did not mean to—"
"No apologies necessary. Your body was recovering from a significant transformation." Master Zhou circled Xin slowly, examining him like a sculptor studying a block of rough marble. "Tell me, boy. What do you feel right now?"
Xin closed his eyes, focusing inward the way he had in his dream. The warm current of qi flowed through his body, but it was erratic, sometimes surging too strong, sometimes barely a trickle. "It feels like... like water flowing through cracked pipes. Unsteady."
"Excellent analogy." Master Zhou nodded approvingly. "Your spiritual channels are open but unrefined. Like a river that has just broken through a dam—powerful but chaotic. Today, we begin teaching you control."
Princess Mei crossed her arms. "What about combat training?"
"Patience, Princess. A sword is useless in the hands of someone who cannot stand properly. We must build his foundation first." Master Zhou gestured for Xin to sit cross-legged on the platform. "The cultivation world has a saying: 'A tree grows strong from its roots, not its branches.'"
Xin sat, feeling awkward. He had never meditated in his life. As a servant, every moment was spent working, sleeping, or trying not to get beaten for some minor mistake.
"Close your eyes," Master Zhou instructed. "Breathe deeply. Feel the qi flowing through your channels. Right now, it moves randomly, without direction. Your task is to guide it—gently, like herding sheep, not chasing wolves."
Xin tried. He really did. But the moment he focused on the qi, it seemed to rebel, surging wildly through his body. His left hand grew uncomfortably hot while his right foot went numb. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"You are trying too hard," Master Zhou said calmly. "Qi responds to will, not force. Imagine it as a natural part of yourself, like breathing. You do not force your lungs to work—they simply do."
"Easy for you to say," Xin muttered through gritted teeth.
"Actually, it took me twelve years to master basic qi circulation." The old master's voice held a hint of amusement. "You have been cultivating for less than a day. Struggle is expected."
Two hours passed. Then three. The sun crawled across the sky. Xin's legs cramped. His back ached. The qi continued its chaotic dance through his channels, sometimes responding to his will, mostly ignoring him completely.
Princess Mei watched from the shade, sipping tea. She looked profoundly bored.
"Master Zhou," she called out. "Perhaps we should try something more... active? He is obviously not getting anywhere."
"On the contrary, he is making excellent progress."
Xin's eyes snapped open. "I am? It feels like I am wrestling a tornado."
"Exactly." Master Zhou smiled. "Most students cannot even sense their qi on the first day, let alone attempt to control it. You are wrestling with power that would take others years to access. That is the dragon blood at work—both blessing and curse."
"Mostly curse right now," Xin groaned, standing up. His legs wobbled like a newborn calf.
"Enough meditation," Princess Mei announced, rising from her seat. She drew her sword—a beautiful weapon with a blade that shimmered like water. "If he cannot control his qi, at least teach him not to die when someone attacks him."
Master Zhou stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It is highly irregular to begin combat training before establishing proper—"
"Master, the Northern Wolf Clan will not wait for him to establish proper anything. They will attack, and he needs to know how to defend himself." Princess Mei stepped onto the platform, sword held in a ready stance. "Come on, stable boy. Show me what you have got."
Xin looked at Master Zhou helplessly. The old master sighed but nodded. "Very well. But Princess, remember—he is completely untrained."
"I will be gentle."
That was a lie.
The moment Xin stepped onto the platform, Princess Mei attacked. Her sword flashed toward his chest—not lethal, but definitely painful. Xin threw himself backward, stumbling gracelessly. The blade missed by inches.
"Too slow," Princess Mei said. "Again."
She attacked from the right. Xin dodged left, nearly falling off the platform. Another strike came from above. He rolled away, scraping his knee on the stone.
"You move like a drunk ox," Princess Mei observed, not even breathing hard. "Do you know any combat forms at all?"
"I know how to shovel horse manure really efficiently," Xin shot back, gasping for air.
Despite herself, Princess Mei smiled. Then she attacked again, faster this time. Xin tried to dodge but was not quick enough. The flat of her blade smacked his ribs, sending him sprawling.
Pain exploded across his side. And something else—anger. Frustration. The qi in his body responded to his emotions, surging violently. His right hand grew scorching hot, almost burning.
"Interesting," Master Zhou murmured from the sidelines.
Xin scrambled to his feet, cradling his aching ribs. "What is happening?"
"Your emotions are triggering the qi," the old master explained. "Anger, fear, desperation—they make the energy react. This is dangerous. Uncontrolled qi can damage your channels or worse."
Princess Mei lowered her sword slightly. "Should we stop?"
"No." Master Zhou's eyes gleamed. "This is a teaching moment. Xin, listen carefully. Dragon blood makes you powerful, but it also makes you volatile. Every emotion amplifies. You must learn to fight without losing control, or your own power will destroy you."
Xin took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging energy inside him. It was like trying to calm a storm with a whisper.
Princess Mei raised her sword again. "Ready for round two, Dragon Heir?"
"Not even slightly."
"Good answer. Now defend yourself."
She attacked again, and the real training began.
- Writer
