Chương 43: Chapter 42

As expected, once she went all out, Wu Lin had little trouble winning every bout. The difference was just too vast. While Zhao had a strong body and his unorthodox fighting style made him an unknown, Lin's strikes were augmented by the Path of Blades. A normal front kick turned into a battering ram as Night Qi enfolded her leg and burst out in an elephant paw. A hammerfist became a literal hammer, and a crescent swipe of the hand exploded into a deadly blade of darkness. It wasn't all free.

Only the greatest masters of the unarmed path could change the shapes and sizes of their materializations at will. The skill made them into flailing masses of weapons that twisted and turned like snakes seeking flesh. Average cultivators had to resort to fixed techniques, like the Enfolding Moon Arc, that turned a cartwheel into a deadly ring of razor-sharp Qi, or the Grasping Tangle, that sent chains streaming from one's palm. Even so, Zhao was hopelessly outmatched. But he never complained.

That attentive, almost hungry light never left his eyes, even when he picked himself up from the dust. As for Lin, she got into it for a while, but it wasn't long before hesitation started entering her moves. Simply put, she felt bad and while that spoke well about her character, Wu Zetian felt slightly offended by seeing her Arts wielded in such a weak way. More importantly, it wasn't showing her the last thing she wanted to see.

"Enough. Zhao, withdraw." The boy knew authority. Even as Lin was finishing her roundhouse kick, he was already obeying without a word. Lin stopped, glancing his way and then toward her, looking concerned. Her buns had started to get unraveled, her chest moving up and down quickly. I guess I should have kept the irritation out of my voice. Or not. A little anxiety wasn't bad for the students: it put a spring in their step. And spring she got indeed as Wu Zetian stood up, starting to undo her robes.

Wu Lin jumped up, a mix of excitement and sheer fear lighting her features. Mph… Pulled off by small tendrils of Qi, the robes slid off her shoulders smoothly. Beneath, her Night Qi formed a layer of dark fog, that, as it disappeared, revealed a black, high-collared shirt embroidered with silver patterns. Loose trousers of the same silk covered her legs, wide at the ankles and cinched at the waist by a thin belt. She didn't bother with her hair, letting it flow wild. She paused, eyeing her robes.

"Zhao. Hold this." The little boy received the lustrous sea of black and silver with something that may be called frantic worship. He panicked, struggling not to let an inch of it touch the ground. His solution was to plop down and keep his arms up, the highest he could manage, her robes tenting over him, giving her a startled look. Smiling, Wu Zetian patted him and strode to the center of the field.

"You seem thoughtful." Wu Lin peered at Zhao's star-struck expression, then back at her. She grinned, some of that awe entering her features.

"Teach me that, Grandmother!" Wu Zetian tilted her head indulgently.

"In time." She took the Spear Gate Stance.

"Show your worth first." Wu Lin hesitated.

"I…" She always did that. She either was a bouncing hellion or turned into a flustered little mess. No middle ground with little Lin. Wu Zetian's lie if she said she didn't find it endlessly endearing. Yet, this was no place for anything but seriousness.

"Young lady, it'll be thirty millennia before you can chip a nail from this old woman." Her bare foot advanced a little, and she injected some cold in her voice.

"So, come. Come with everything you have. Anything less, I shall take as an insult." That got the work done. Wu Lin straightened up, then settled into her own stance. For a moment. She paused, then shifted into a different one. Feet wider than the shoulders. Weight-centered. Hips loaded like springs. Ebows tucked close. Hands higher than Spear Gate, fingers splayed open. Chin tucked and lowered. Eyes burning and lips curled. Hunting Tiger Stance. The aggressive one. So, she's listening. Good.

Wu Zetian didn't change her stance.

"Come. No words. Just come." Lin didn't need to be told twice. She exploded into motion, cutting the distance much faster than she had done before. Her legs blurred, streaks of deep-blue Qi rushing across her skin like painted veins. Every step left an imprint on the ground, the same as that left by a crow's foot. A Movement Art? This child truly is a prodigy. But why not her Qi-shape? The field filled with three-fingered marks as Wu Lin bounced and cartwheeled around her.

Wu Zetian didn't move, eyes and perceptions flicking to follow. Oh? When Wu Lin cartwheeled to keep her movements irregular… there. The moment her palm pressed against the ground, she left a glimmer of Qi in it, mixed with the traces left from her Movement Art. As all Yin, Night Qi was heavy. Its tendency to sink and crystallize was the main reason why the unarmed style of the Shadow Arts was viable to begin with.

But that also meant you could harden it, leave it out to be used for later, be it as a supply or a trap. The latter here, mh? But what if I move? She did just that. Distance Made Moot compressed space, making her step clear far more than it should have. Wu Lin didn't stop. Her only adjustment was to widen the circle of her bouncing. Wasting breath? Wu Zetian lifted two fingers. Night Qi clung to the tips, dripping ink staining her pale skin. A flick of her forefinger and a drop shot out like a bullet.

It snapped where Lin was just a moment earlier, carving a divot into the dirt. The little girl yelped, but had the sense not to stop. The lines on her legs glowed harder, and she accelerated further. Narrowing her eyes, Wu Zetian flicked her fingers in rapid succession, filling the air with whistling bullets. Of course, she made sure not to hit her, but little by little, she started making adjustments, diminishing the distance of her near-misses. Until she didn't.

The bullet smacked against Lin's thigh with a splat. The girl yelped at the impact, equivalent to that of a rubber bullet, but she didn't stop. She lounged with a yell, arms outstretched, tucked herself into a ball and hit the ground rolling, while bullets whistled all around her. Wu Zetian followed her calmly, lining up a more precise shot, when she suddenly changed. Night Qi erupted around her, swathing her from sight.

She exploded out of it a moment later in her Qi-shape, a sphere wearing a determined expression. She zipped even faster, fanning and twisting around the bullets, coming straight for her. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"I am coming, Grandma!" She yelped fiercely.

"I said no words, did I?" Wu Zetian chided, smiling despite herself. She waited for the sphere to be close enough, then swept a hand out, darkness following the motion in a fan. But Lin had already slipped back into her normal form, the crescent sweeping across her hair as she slid beneath it. Her foot hit the ground in a pulse of dark Qi, and then she was attacking with a blindingly fast rear straight punch. A three-foot spear jutted from her fist, thrusting for her sternum. Wu Zetian slid half a step diagonally.

Her fingers dipped, brushing the girl's wrist outward. The spear obeyed faithfully, piercing only empty air. Lin didn't stop. Her foot came down, a scythe elongating from her elbow as she swept for Wu Zetian's jaw. Wu Zetian touched her triceps with her forearm, rotating her hips by a few degrees. The scythe passed her harmlessly by. Wu Lin was starting to get carried by her own momentum now. Her rear fist came down into a hammer, just as a literal hammer coalesced above it. A feint. The hammer was empty.

Even as Wu Zetian blasted it apart with a finger thrust, Lin's rear leg was coming up, followed by a heavy mace. Wu Zetian stepped in, planting her thigh in its trajectory, denying it space to swing. Lin kept on committing. She stomped, yelling, and launched a shoulder charge, dark Qi wrapping around her like a turtle shell. Wu Zetian sank and twisted, meeting shoulder with shoulder. To her credit, Wu Lin didn't just bounce back.

The little girl harnessed her momentum, tucked her knees to her chest and kicked with both. Blades erupted from her feet, each wide enough to cut a horse in half. Another feint. The blades exploded in tatters, revealing thinner, double-sided swords that pierced the air beside Wu Zetian's shoulders. Lin's hand rapped the ground, and then she was twisting, her swords coming together with a resounding crash. Wu Zetian had already slipped beneath it, kicking.

Wu Lin took the blow with her shoulder, already turning back into her sphere-shape. Still, before it could slip away, fingers closed around it, driving it toward the ground. Lin exploded out of it a moment before contact, kicking her hand away with a yell. She was getting frustrated now. Her foot kicked the ground, and she came with a roar and an upward knee, a spike protruding from it. A feint, again. Lin's hand came for her shoulder, fingers turned into a hooked blade of dark Qi.

If she could get her, she would pull her forward for the finishing blow, as per the Mountain Collapse's movement series. The little girl's hips were already rotating, preparing for the roundhouse kick that terminated the sequence. A gigantic crescent blade formed on her shin, stretching several feet beyond her foot, able to cleave stone. But Wu Zetian saw it. Night Qi clung to Lin's back, like the imitation of a turtle shell.

Mind As Night Wind was an advanced skill that allowed the practitioner to divide her processing capabilities as long as she devoted Qi to it. An inferior form of her own mind-enhancing skill, it weakened the processing speed one devoted to a technique in exchange for the ability to keep another channel of reasoning open. Where…? Ah, there. The crow's feet, and the aggregations of Qi they were meant to hide. Lin's aura clung to them. Oh, this scamp… Wu Zetian smashed the blade apart with the cut of her hand.

But Lin wasn't there anymore. The girl had jumped up, limbs spread like a squirrel to catch her momentum.

"AH!" She roared, bringing her hands together. Instantly, the traces she had left erupted. With some of her mind left in them, they didn't just explode or return to her. Instead, tendrils of darkness erupted from them, raising, entangling and then falling over Wu Zetian from all sides.

"Night Falls!" The little girl yelled, throwing her hands down. Wu Zetian slapped tendrils away and shattered them. She danced among them, not allowing herself to be pinned down. Good. Very good. And yet, this is not it yet… A massive shadow covered her. Ripping a tendril, Wu Zetian looked up, and smiled, intrigued. There it is. The true attack. Wu Lin's sphere-shape still had that cute, angry face, except that now it was the size of a small building. Dark flames trailed behind her, turning her into a falling star.

No words. Even as the tendrils kept harassing her, the star came down with an explosive roar. The impact was something.

"I am deeply impressed, granddaughter," Wu Zetian said kindly. Wu Lin blinked, looking up at her. They were both standing at the center of the field. The crow's feet, any trace the impact should have left; nothing of such was visible, almost like the fight had been little more than a dream. That is, if she wasn't panting.

"Not only did you fight with valor and skill," Wu Zetian continued.

"You did so with intelligence, layering faint after faint so that you could bring home a conclusive strike. Yet again, once Mountain Collapse failed, you should have changed tack. You're too stubborn for your own good, and keep too much to the patterns that had been taught to you when you should get creative instead." Wu Lin blinked, looking thoroughly confused.

"Masters said that's how proper Nightborn fight. By being smart." She pouted.

"That's not fair." Wu Zetian arched an eyebrow.

"What is?"

"This." Wu Lin gesticulated, trying and failing to find the words. Her buns gave up, breaking apart and throwing an avalanche of inky-black hair over her face. She pushed them aside, glaring.

"There were no rules. How does Lin win if she doesn't know what the rules are?" Wu Zetian tilted her head.

"The rule was to go all out. You did just that, so that's your win." Wu Lin watched her for a long moment.

"Did I do well?" She whispered. She tried to turn away, but Wu Zetian didn't allow it. Her fingers cupped her chin, making her look up.

"Very good." She smiled. Wu Lin didn't answer. She spread her arms, and that was enough for words. Wu Zetian pulled her into a hug.

"Grandma?" Said a small, muffled voice.

"Yes, dear?"

"Zhao too?" Wu Zetian huffed, but she'd allow it. Even if the foundling really needed a bath. Speaking of baths, it seemed about the right time. Wu Zetian led them inside, giving them free rein of one of the house's bathrooms, while she went to fulfill her promise. The home's furnace was nothing special, but it didn't need to be. Wu Zetian pumped the bellows, watching the blue flame inside until it reached the right temperature.

There was no need for ingredients: a pinch of her Qi, properly stripped from any Shen, would be enough to make for good Cultivation Pills. While she worked, listening to the children's laughter from beyond the wall, she thought. Lin may not understand, but she hadn't pushed her to give her all for nothing. No, it was to assess the arguably most important thing a Cultivator needed to her. More than talent, even more than a love for the craft. The Will for Growth. The Hunger for Advancement.

The Resolve that Defies Heaven. Dao Heart, they called it. The determination to grow and become. In a world so dangerous, no true successful cultivator could do without it. To her relief, Wu Lin had it in spades. She had felt it in her determination to win, in her desire to crush the challenge that had been put in front of her, no matter how vague it was. Even Zhao, with his attentive eyes and hungry attention, shared in it. Good. She plunged her hand into the furnace.

The fire licked her fingers, threatening to dim, but she injected Qi into it, and it flared again, tinted black. She wasn't naive enough to think that danger didn't exist for her. The world was filled with creatures that could threaten her, even defeat her. Infinitely more so for her loved ones, infinitely more so if they intended to strike at her through them. And that meant that more than anything, she would have to foster their strength, no matter what. Dao Heart. Talent. Skill. Experience.

Everything had to be assessed and then nurtured to grow until her family could live in safety, even without her. It was a strange feeling. Working to make sure you became irrelevant. Yet again, maybe that was what it meant to be a parent. Wu Zetian pulled her hand from the furnace: four pills, black and glimmering, shone in her palm.

"Here. Two each. Hold on now. A promise first."

"Right! Promise! Zhao, you too!"

"…promise."

"Mmh. The Sect is putting a hold on cultivation at the moment. It wouldn't be right for us, the ruling family, to enjoy it while our subjects cannot. We have a duty to them, don't we?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"…yes? I am not a Wu, though…"

"Shut up, you dummy!"

"Clear…" Wu Zetian huffed, amused. She dropped two pills in their palms.

"So, here's the promise. No using this until the ban is lifted. And if you break it, Grandma will know and you'll clean up the Palace's latrince for two moons, understood?" She watched them, and it took something to remain stern as they gulped and nodded frantically. Her expression softened.

"Well, time to eat then."

"Yay! Zhao, you cheer too! This is Grandma's cooking!"

"Yay…"

"Harder!" They passed the rest of the day eating the rest of the crepes and playing. Wu Zetian wasn't good at this, but Lin, with her inexhaustible energy, more than made up for it. She even managed to scrounge some board games to liven up the evening. Sitting on the porch, enjoying the breeze while the children bickered over rules and games, Wu Zetian couldn't help but feel blessed.

Died, transmigrated, turned into an Immortal as distant from the mortal world as the sky from the earth, and yet, she still got to fulfill one of her dearest wishes. Heaven's grace is large, it seems. Enough to bless even a wicked one like me. There was a crash. Lin had dropped a board on Zhao's head. Huffing, Wu Zetian called them to break it up. Really, a blessing. She only had to find the controls to that stupid sun, and everything would be perfect.

Later, after she had tucked them in, Wu Zetian lingered by their beds. Both children had fallen asleep fast, worn thin by the day's excitements. Lin clung to Zhao like a monkey, the boy managing to look awkward even while asleep. Wu Zetian smiled, pulling the covers over them. Outside, the glare was dimming slightly, signalling the end of the day. Not needing to sleep, Wu Zetian sat on the porch for a long time, marvelling at her new title and the warmth it brought. Grandmother.

You'd think that thirst for immortal power would trump fierce protectiveness. Yet, here she stood, watching the sky, waiting for lightning, challenging it to fall.