Chương 20: Ensouled in Wood

Rowan Wood is generated from Water. Wood generates Fire. These are the two neighboring elements, Wood's allies. Wood destroys the Earth. Wood is destroyed by Metal. These are the two foreign elements, Wood's enemies. The Yin nature subverts its neighbors. The Yang nature subverts its enemies. Each will know the other. Each is described within. Were these notes about the text from a helpful senior or the text itself? This seemed more like a lecture from Instructor Sutter than it did a cultivation manual.

A certain sentence made him pause in thought. It's common knowledge that plants need light to grow. That if it is locked in darkness, it will die. This is false. In fact, a seed can only sprout in darkness. When winter approaches, the plant might seem to die, but it reappears in the spring. All things dead and decayed are soil for new life. Most demonic cultivators were termed thus because they mostly used death arts, stealing blood qi, flesh, and even the cultivation of others to bolster themselves.

This must be what the senior mentioned when he said Wood arts were the best counter to demonic cultivators - life from death! From a cursory glance, the rank-six Ensouled in Wood scripture was easier to understand than the flowery and metaphorical language used in the rank-four Dry Fire Codex. But it was also quite profound, and didn't explain much before moving on. Rowan could only describe it as 'terse'. First, he needed to master the Waking Spring Breath Technique.

It didn't actually have much to do with inhaling and exhaling through one's nose. It was about properly drawing in ambient qi through his apertures. The most basic kind of intake was simply drawing in qi through all of your apertures at once. However, absorbing qi through specific apertures could achieve certain effects. It was similar to language.

If a person yelled out all the syllables in their language at once, someone might be able to discern their mood, tone, or maybe even a hometown accent - but the message would be meaningless. However, if a person strung only a few syllables together, forming a word or a sentence, it became infinitely more meaningful, even though they used fewer syllables. This Waking Spring Breath Technique contained ten different aperture patterns, to be executed one after the other in sequence. Survive.

Your roots should resemble that of an oak tree, unyielding to the cut of an axe, dense enough to live a lightning strike, resourceful enough to heal after a vole's gnawing. Your roots must pierce the darkest earth, your branches must grow taller than any flood that can drown you. The Waking Spring Breath Technique is survival through growth. If he could attune his apertures to perform this ten-pattern sequence, he would embody this waking spring. He read the effect. Survive at any cost.

Adapt in order to exploit the weaknesses of your surroundings, just as a weed might sprout from the crevice of a rocky cliff. The qi of a practitioner of Waking Spring Breath Technique embodies life itself, willing to fight to the death for survival. Rowan grew excited.

He knew of breathing techniques that could purify one of venoms and poisons, breathing techniques to make your presence undetectable to divinations, and even breathing techniques that temporarily compressed your qi so you could exhale it in an explosive burst. This felt like more than that. Like his qi would be undergoing a qualitative change. His first step was mastering the breathing technique. That alone was half the battle to breaking through to the second layer of Qi Condensation.

From then, he would just need a bunch of spirit stones, and a portion of Wood qi to properly align his Qi Sea. Then he could start casting spell arts. Rowan flipped through the pages to see if a specific Wood qi was needed, but it didn't say. He decided to start trying the first pattern of Waking Spring Breath. It was harder than he thought. His apertures were fighting him, like they were bewildered as to what he was trying to do.

He tried to only open one specific aperture, but ten more on the other side of his body instinctively opened too. If he had to use an analogy, it was like trying to walk across a beam, and the second he got nervous his body would immediately spread his arms to keep balance.

"Observe a plant. What does it take a plant to grow?" Rowan didn't know anything about botany, so he listened to Ostra without comment.

"Water moves through the roots and up the central stem, generating life. Fire crosses the plains and renews the soil. This is the Yang nature of Wood." Rowan nodded along.

"Water is exhaled by leaves. Young trees resist burning. This is the Yin nature of Wood. Which do you believe is more powerful?" Rowan considered it. Yin and Yang were considered equal, but Yin was subtle while Yang was more overt.

"It must be the Yang nature."

"Think about it more carefully." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Rowan tried to imagine how the small amount of dew on a leaf could be greater in magnitude than the growth of a tree. The shopkeeper said he had Yang wood, and gave him this scripture in accordance to his affinity, but the senior who spoke with him now did not seem to be the shopkeeper.

Ostra asked,"For a cultivator, what is more difficult, to make an unbreakable object or to produce an unstoppable strike?"

"Is it not a question of magnitude?" Rowan wondered. A forest's worth of dew could easily have more weight than a single tree, he realized.

"Is it more difficult to grow a leaf or for a leaf to breathe?"

"Trick question," said Rowan.

"How many leaves are breathing and how many are growing."

"Well reasoned," said Ostra.

"I must change the Yin into the Yang to produce Wood qi."

"Correct." With that, the bloodstone went silent, leaving him to his own thoughts. Rowan imagined a tree taking in Water, and then producing it - subverting its elemental neighbor. That was one of the two Yin relationships Wood had with the other elements. He imagined a clashing axe unable to break through a branch - subverting its elemental enemy. That was one of the Yang relationships Wood had with its enemies. Two of Yang and one of Yin will generate Yang Wood Qi.

The other Yang relationship - of Wood subverting Earth, was the process of wood dying and decaying back into the Earth. But Rowan had the Bloodwood lineage, a relationship between Wood and Earth which was not neutral but Yang. Wood that grew as Yang and resisted as Yang, a wood that produced Water rather than taking it in.

"Senior I have one question. Since I have the Five Element Physique, will committing to the Wood element harm me in any way?" He wasn't trying to be greedy here and have it all. Cultivation was about choice. Taking a stand, and pursuing it to the end. He was just concerned that aligning his Qi Sea solely to Wood might throw his body out of equilibrium and damage him.

"No," said the bloodstone. Rowan waited a moment, but no further explanation arrived.

"This one thanks Senior Ostra for his patience…" A sigh.

"This scripture is suitable for your physique. Just learn it. And just Ostra is fine." Rowan sat down to learn his new breathing technique, trusting the recommendation. Rowan wasn't sure if he should ask why Ostra the bloodstone and Ostra the Shopkeeper seemed so different. Two Yang and One of Yin. Breathing in twice and breathing out once. Accumulating. Hours passed. He managed to learn the first half of the breathing technique, though it didn't feel natural to do. His qi felt restless. Writhing inside of him.

Maybe a break was in order. It was a warm afternoon, the best time to go out into the city. Visiting the Stone Dragon Refinery would be a nice reward for his efforts. Also, Rowan knew that forging a sword couldn't be done in one afternoon - if he wanted a sword by the tournament, he needed to go sooner rather than later. The old blacksmith surely already had a waitlist. Perhaps Rowan would have to bribe him with a spirit stone or two to get his order in on time.

When he passed Old Hesser at the gate, he greeted him and waved his Sect Token.

"Rowan! What are you off to do this time?" asked Hesser, who was playing a game of chess with himself.

"I thought I would go down to the forge and take a look around," said Rowan. Hesser nodded.

"Don't be out too late. Crime's increased quite a bit and some mortals have gone missing. More than usual." He moved a piece and then frowned, then put it back. That was kind of concerning. His mind immediately went to The Red Groom from the Tally Book. The red mark.

"Anyone from House Helsing?" Rowan asked with a frown. Hesser shook his head.

"None of our sect partners, at least that I know of. This happens once in a while. Usually it's the work of a cultivator."

"From our sect?" Rowan asked, horrified. Hesser nodded grimly.

"Sometimes folks turn out to be bad apples. We'll deal with it if necessary. Hopefully its just a mortal issue and hopefully the girls turn up alive. There's been three of them so far. I've seen the reports, but I can't do much investigation. I just guard the gate after all," said Hesser, looking frustrated. He played the same move again on the board and took it back again, glaring at his pieces.

"Well, I don't want to hold you up much longer. Off you go." Rowan walked down the street, deep in thought.

"Mister Cultivator!" came a shout beside him. A little girl was tugging on his sleeve.

"Would you like to buy a pancake?" She smiled at him, pointing at her mother's stall. Her mother hid herself behind the cart. She continued to flip pancakes on an iron plancha, her fingers shaking. Rowan smiled at the girl.

"Of course." The woman sighed in relief.

"What would you like, sir?" she asked, as Rowan stepped towards the cart.

"Anything you recommend," he said, his smile widening. He noticed that the woman was crying as she worked, pouring batter onto the hot iron plate.

"What's wrong, ma'am?" he asked. The woman sniffed.

"N-nothing."

"Are you sure? If there's something I can help you with…"

"My daughter," she whispered. Rowan turned to the little girl. She was making little shapes with a stick on the side of the dirt road, out of the way of any passing carts.

"Not little Estelle. My oldest, Jenne. She's run away before, after some disagreements, but she's never disappeared without a word for so long," said the woman.

"It's been three days now." Rowan thought immediately of Hesser's warning.

"I'll see what I can do about it, ma'am," promised Rowan.

"Not only will the sect investigate, but I happen to be a Helsing. I can ask people from my house about this. The city's safety is our safety, and the city's joys are our joys."

"T-thank you," said the woman. She pressed the wrapped foil into Rowan's fingers.

"This is for you."

"How much?" asked Rowan. The woman shook her head, but Rowan left a whole silver tael on the counter of her cart anyway. He suddenly understood why Blaise had been willing to pay such an exorbitant amount for the work of a mortal.

"Thank you, kind cultivator," the woman repeated. Rowan was now a little embarrassed and he hurried away. The little girl waved at him and he waved back, then slipped down a side street. The sun was warm. The pancake was light and fluffy, and drizzled with honey. By the time he found himself in front of Stone Dragon Refinery, he'd finished most of the pancake.