Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

Master Qingfeng cleared his throat. "We must keep constant watch over her. Until we understand her behavior—she might harm others without meaning to."

Xiulan adjusted her position as Mei Chen’s breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep. The young maid curled against her chest, fingers twisted into the fabric of Xiulan’s robes.

Xiulan nodded quietly. Being cautious was wise. Each of Mei Chen’s breaths tickled her collarbone.

"Is it wise to allow her any freedom?" Feng Yu asked. "Wrathful spirits are hunted down and destroyed for good reason. Even if she’s not acting like a monster now, she’s far from normal."

Xiulan’s eyes widened as she stared at Feng Yu. What betrayal is this?

She tightened her arms slightly around Mei Chen’s sleeping form. The protective gesture drew a contented sigh from the girl.

"I’ve erected barriers around the Treasure Pavilion." Master Qingfeng straightened his robes. "She won’t be able to leave the grounds, but not all our staff possess sufficient cultivation to defend themselves."

He fixed Xiulan with a stern look. "You’ll bear responsibility for her actions. If she turns malicious, we cannot allow her to remain free. If the worst was to happen, we’d need to return her to Karma."

A lump formed in Xiulan’s throat. "We’ll watch her carefully."

Feng Yu frowned at Xiulan, concern etching across her face.

"Now, I must begin renovating this room." Master Qingfeng gestured at the frost-covered walls. "This has occupied the forging chamber far too long."

Xiulan winced at the thought of the damage. "The cost…"

"Do not worry on that." Master Qingfeng waved off her concern. "You’ve paid your dues in full. I factored the possibility of such damage into our arrangement." He turned toward the central slab. "You may go. I have work to do. We’ll discuss things tomorrow. Expect Ming Lihua to monitor the girl and situation."

Ming Lihua… Merchandiser Ming?

Xiulan cradled Mei Chen against her chest as she led the way out of the chamber. Feng Yu’s boots clicked behind them in a steady rhythm.

"What was that?" Xiulan kept her voice low to avoid disturbing Mei Chen’s peaceful sleep.

"What?" Feng Yu matched her hushed tone.

"About Mei Chen."

Feng Yu’s footsteps faltered. "I’ve never heard of a wrathful spirit that didn’t cause destruction on a wide scale. We need to be careful."

"After everything—"

"I understand how precious she is to you," Feng Yu cut in. "But being careful protects her too. Qingfeng’s intentions remain unclear now that your deal is complete. This could be another test. Mei Chen’s condition is unprecedented—he might decide to capture or destroy her. We don’t know how she’ll behave. Yes, she shows attachment, but I didn’t think her behavior was normal. Didn’t you notice the changes in her?"

Xiulan’s breath caught in her throat. Of course she had noticed. Mei Chen whimpered and clutched tighter to her robes, small fingers twisting into the fabric.

The weight of Feng Yu’s words was heavier all because they were true. She had focused so hard on the tree, instead of the forest.

"I’m sorry, I’m—"

"You’re exhausted and overwhelmed. I understand." Feng Yu stepped closer. "But I’m not your enemy. I want Mei Chen to succeed too. We just need time to understand this. Like Qingfeng said, nothing like this exists in the entire kingdom."

They reached the guest room. Xiulan pushed the door open with her shoulder, careful not to jostle her precious cargo.

She headed toward the bed. "Time isn’t something we have the luxury of right now."

She adjusted Mei Chen’s weight in her arms. "I need to check on Mother and Brother at the manor, see what damage the Chao attack caused." The words tumbled out faster with each breath. "We have to organize a resistance before their army arrives. I don’t even know if Cousin Min made it here, or if the provincial prefect sent orders."

Moonlight filtered through the window, casting silver highlights across the floor. For the first time she realized just how long things had taken. The sun had been up when they had started.

"Without a writ from Brother, I can’t raise an army—if there’s even anything left of the city guard to organize. The family armory in the city burned with everything else." Her chest tightened. "And we have no idea how many cultivators the Chao family plans to send."

She turned to set Mei Chen down but stopped. The girl stared up at her with wide, alert eyes. The stress in Xiulan’s voice had stirred her from sleep.

"Mei Chen?"

Xiulan lowered her onto the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath the girl’s slight weight.

"Xiulan!" Mei Chen beamed up at her.

Xiulan suppressed a frown. If Mei Chen could only repeat names, how could she protect her? The weight of responsibility pressed down—

"Xiulan, everything will be okay." Mei Chen wrapped her arms around Xiulan’s legs from her seated position.

The unexpected coherent response stunned Xiulan. She patted Mei Chen’s silky hair before settling onto the bed beside her. Across the room, Feng Yu knelt at the low table, organizing several scattered cups.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" Xiulan kept her tone gentle.

Mei Chen gripped Xiulan’s arm and shot a suspicious glare at Feng Yu. "Someone tried to steal you."

Xiulan’s jaw dropped. The accusation hung in the air like frozen qi.

"St-steal?" Feng Yu stammered.

"I can smell her all over you!" Mei Chen lifted her own sleeve to her nose and inhaled deeply. Her eyes grew round. "I can smell her inside me too!"

She snapped her attention back to Xiulan. "Was she inside of you?!"

A deep crimson flush spread across Feng Yu’s cheeks.

Xiulan’s cheeks heated as well, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Unfortunate phrasing aside, Mei Chen could detect their qi signatures through scent somehow.

"You can smell our qi? Our energy? Is that what you mean?" Xiulan asked.

Mei Chen darted another suspicious glance at Feng Yu before nodding emphatically. "It’s a smell. She smells like cinnamon." Mei Chen turned to stare at Xiulan’s neck and then leaned in to take an akwardly deep sniff. "You smell like peach! But she’s there too…" Mei Chen looked down at her sleeve and sniffed her arm again.

Feng Yu let out a weak laugh. "I’ve been teaching Xiulan some cultivation techniques. And I helped with the array to revive you."

"Techniques? Reviving?" Mei Chen’s brow furrowed as she tested the words.

Xiulan drew a steadying breath. "You were hurt very badly, Mei Chen. You died." She squeezed the girl’s cold hand. "Your spirit is attached to your body, but technically you’re a… uh… ghost. And now we’re both immortals—cultivators who use qi."

Mei Chen opened her mouth, then closed it. She lifted her pale hands in front of her face, turning them back and forth. "Oh..."

Xiulan slipped her arm around Mei Chen and pulled her close. The gentle squeeze brought a bright smile to the girl’s pale face.

"A lot has happened, and we need to be careful. Especially about not hurting anyone." Xiulan stroked Mei Chen’s hair. "Some people might use that against us."

Mei Chen blinked up at her with wide eyes.

"Do you under—"

Mei Chen switched focus suddenly and sprang up from the bed. Her bare feet pattered across the wooden floor as she darted to the dressing table. She snatched up an ornate wooden comb and rushed back.

"Xiulan’s hair is a mess! I was sick too long!" The comb trembled in her eager grip.

Xiulan released a slow breath. "Do you want to comb my hair?"

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Mei Chen nodded with such enthusiasm that her own brown locks bounced.

The sound of gentle laughter drew her attention. Feng Yu’s amused smirk was… annoying!

"How about you comb Feng Yu’s hair first?" Xiulan suggested. "It’s in even worse shape—someone tried to burn it all off."

Mei Chen’s nose wrinkled as she peered at Feng Yu’s sandy brown hair. "Worse shape? Burned off?"

Feng Yu’s smirk vanished, replaced by wide-eyed shock.

How’s that for turning the tables? Xiulan did not suppress her grin. "If you help Feng Yu first, you can take as many strokes as you want with mine after."

Mei Chen clutched the comb to her chest and turned to Feng Yu. "Can I comb your hair?"

Feng Yu swallowed hard before nodding. "Of course." The stare she turned on Xiulan was a loaded ’are you playing with my life!?’

Xiulan’s laugh was melodic.

Merchandiser Ming’s exaggerated smile set off warning bells in Xiulan’s mind as they stepped into the trade hall.

The space felt intimate compared to Fershere’s sprawling pavilion, yet retained the same level meticulous organization. Shelves lined the walls in neat sections, each displaying carefully arranged cultivation supplies. The familiar layout brought back memories of her earlier shopping trip for alchemy ingredients.

"I need a fire pill." Feng Yu cast a sideways glance at Xiulan.

Xiulan shook her head. "With the manor destroyed, I can’t craft one right now. We’re also pressed for time." Both turned expectantly toward Ming Lihua.

Ming Lihua hummed a cheerful note. "A basic fire pill costs one hundred spirit stones."

"Add it to our list." At that price point, she didn’t even pause to consider it.

Feng Yu’s eyebrows lifted at the quick response.

"The money belongs to both of us." Xiulan tapped the small spirit stone pouch in her robe’s hidden pocket. "You helped gather these, remember?"

"Your generosity exceeds reasonable bounds." Feng Yu’s tone contained worry.

Xiulan chuckled. "Your concern warms my heart."

That treasure from the lake valley put the scales in her favor, she’s right. Still, investing in Feng Yu’s strength served both their interests.

"Show us your spiritual gear selection." Xiulan turned her attention to Ming Lihua.

Ming swept her arm toward a section of the trade hall filled with rows of martial attire. Dozens of outfits lined the walls—everything from practical combat gear to ornate Taoist robes and even official court dress. The subtle hum of protective enchantments resonated through the displays.

"For your upcoming confrontations, I recommend something with enhanced physical protection." Ming Lihua walked to a specific display and pulled out a black and turquoise robe.

Xiulan froze. The style, the cut, the subtle pattern along the hem—it mirrored her favorite outfit from the Lin manor down to the last detail. But the fabric gleamed with newness.

"Did you have this made based on my old robes?" Xiulan narrowed her eyes at Ming Lihua.

Ming Lihua studied the ceiling with exaggerated interest. "The fabric is spirit-infused silk. It’ll turn aside any mortal blade and resist both acid and fire damage."

The merchandiser’s obvious deflection confirmed Xiulan’s suspicions. Someone had been paying very close attention to her wardrobe choices weeks ago.

"This would pair nicely with a red sash." Feng Yu ran her fingers along the fabric’s edge. "The contrast would be striking."

Xiulan snapped her gaze to Feng Yu. "Are you trying to copy my style now?"

Ming Lihua pulled a second robe from the rack—nearly identical to the first but adorned with delicate gold trim along the edges. The enchanted silk shimmered under the pavilion’s spirit stone lights. "Both are available if you’re interested."

"Is this some kind of setup?" Xiulan crossed her arms.

Ming Lihua straightened the robes on their hangers. "Two hundred spirit stones each."

The price made Xiulan wince. She’d already spent several hundred stones on supplies in Fershere, plus the fire pill now, and these robes would take another significant chunk from their funds. Still, the defensive enchantments woven into the fabric would prove invaluable. The protection against blades and elemental damage alone justified the cost, especially with the wealth they’d acquired.

She needed to avoid her tendency to love to hoard things. She wasn’t here to fill a sect treasury vault.

"Add them to our list." Xiulan nodded.

Ming Lihua hummed a cheerful tune while arranging the robes at the end of the rack for later packaging.

"Weapons." Feng Yu fixed Xiulan with an appraising look. "Your current ones are inadequate. You need something that won’t shatter in your hands."

"But I might lose it..." Xiulan laughed weakly.

Feng Yu’s stern stare brooked no argument.

"Fine." Xiulan turned to Ming Lihua. "Show us your weapons."

"Right this way." Ming Lihua gestured toward another section of the hall.

Feng Yu strode toward the weapon racks with purpose, bypassing the standard swords and sabers. Her eyes locked onto a collection of spears. She lifted each one, testing the balance. The metal sang through the air as she spun and thrust.

Xiulan watched from beside Ming Lihua as Feng Yu’s attention shifted to an unusual weapon—a hybrid between a glaive and naginata. The curved blade gleamed with a polished sheen. Feng Yu extended it toward Xiulan.

The weapon settled in her grip with surprising lightness. The balance felt natural, almost extending her reach rather than weighing her down.

"Perfect for channeling lightning." Feng Yu nodded with approval. "The metal composition will withstand intense heat without warping."

Ming Lihua cleared her throat. "Severing Light—crafted by Treasure Pavilion Elder Lei Huoshan. Five hundred spirit stones."

Xiulan almost dropped the weapon in shock. The amount was a lot. Yet something about the way it responded to her qi made her hesitate.

"The blade cuts through spiritual armor up to qi refining." Ming Lihua traced a finger along the gleaming edge. "The specialized alloy allows for substantial qi channeling without degradation."

"We’ll take it." Feng Yu moved toward a display of shorter blades before Xiulan could protest.

Xiulan shot Ming Lihua a resigned nod. Perhaps giving Feng Yu free rein over their purchases wasn’t the wisest choice. Still, the weapon’s capabilities aligned perfectly with her needs.

They were going to war…

Feng Yu lifted a pair of ornate daggers from their display case. The blades gleamed with five distinct patterns—earth brown swirls near the hilt, crimson flame etchings along the spine, aqua ripples near the point, emerald leaf designs on the cross-guard, and silver geometric patterns woven throughout.

"The craftsmanship suggests Skyward Institute work." Feng Yu traced the intricate patterns with her finger.

Ming nodded. "They are. Three hundred stones for the set."

Xiulan winced but… "I’ll take them as well."

Ming Lihua placed a wooden box of simple iron darts on the counter. "These serve well as disposable weapons. One stone for the lot."

That was much easier. She had a few ideas for them after fighting the assassins, too.

Two sets of arm and shin guards caught Xiulan’s attention next. Spirit-infused metal plates connected by flexible leather straps promised additional protection without sacrificing mobility.

Another four hundred stones…

A full suit of armor dominated the far wall. The price tag made Xiulan’s eyes widen—enough spirit stones to bankrupt her. Maybe another time.

Ming Lihua presented sheets of talisman paper marked with precise calligraphy. "Both offensive and defensive formations, pre-drawn by our resident array master. Ten stones each."

A stack of jade-green pills followed. "Superior to standard healing medications," Ming Lihua explained. "Triple the potency of common remedies. Ten stones each as well."

Xiulan paused at an elegant recurve bow. The weapon beckoned with possibility, but archery would demand time they didn’t have.

"We’ll take six of each talisman type, and ten of the recovery pills." Xiulan stepped back from the displays. "That should do it. We’ll return if specific needs arise. Better to maintain our resources."

"For hiring the bounty hunters?" Feng Yu raised an eyebrow.

Ming Lihua perked up. "The Pavilion maintains extensive contacts. We could circulate notice of employment opportunities. Given the bounty that drew them here continues to be unclaimed, many hunters might prefer guaranteed payment over uncertain prospects."

"I’ll consider hiring hunters once we know more. Right now, we need this gear and to check the manor." Xiulan adjusted her grip on Severing Light, still marveling at its perfect balance.

"I’ll calculate your total." Ming Lihua reached for her abacus.

"Wait." Xiulan set the weapon down with deliberate care.

Ming Lihua’s eyebrow arched upward.

"Dear Ming." Xiulan flashed her sweetest smile. "Given our wonderful relationship, my repeat business, and how I accepted so many of your excellent suggestions... wouldn’t a twenty percent discount be appropriate?"

Feng Yu pinched the bridge of her nose. "Are you trying to get thrown in jail again?"

"Ten percent would be reasonable." Ming Lihua’s professional smile remained fixed.

"But Ming..." Xiulan adopted her best wounded expression. "We get along so well. How about fifteen?"

Ming Lihua’s lips twitched. "Twelve and a half percent."

"Thirteen percent and round down to the nearest stone?" Xiulan leaned forward. "Half numbers bring bad luck, after all."

"I’ve never heard such a superstition." Ming Lihua drummed her fingers on the counter.

"Thirteen is an unlucky number..." Feng Yu muttered.

"Again!?" Xiulan spun toward her companion. "Whose side are you on?"

"Again?" Feng Yu blinked in confusion.

"Fine." Xiulan turned back to Ming. "Twelve and a half percent, rounded down to the nearest full stone."

Ming Lihua bowed with a flourish. "I’ll calculate your total immediately."