The boy's earnest yet faltering efforts draw a silent observation from Li Wei. There's no move to intervene, no vocalised reprimand or offer of assistance. Instead, Li Wei watches the scene before him with a silent capability assessment.
As the tent finally begins to take shape, more through the contributions of the other servants than the boy's own, Li Wei turns his attention away,
As they enter the tent, the transition from the biting cold of the clearing to the marginally warmer air inside is immediate. Dao Feng leads, his silhouette steady as he steps through the tent's entrance, with Lin Yue following closely behind. Li Wei trails last, a silent observer of the dynamics unfolding within the confined space of their temporary shelter.
Stepping into the tent, the chill of the night briefly clings to me until Dao Feng's voice cuts through the cold. "The servants will sleep in the tent next to the edge. It's too cold for mortals outside, they won't make it through the night." His words land with authority, setting the matter as decided.
Then, Lin Yue's voice, tinged with her usual disdain, breaks in. "Ugh, it's bad enough with the bumpkin inside, now the servants too?" Her scoff feels familiar, another barb in a long line of jabs directed my way, her disdain for sharing space with me—or anyone below her station—clear as ever.
Dao Feng's reaction is immediate, his head turning to shoot Lin Yue a stern look. The unspoken rebuke in his gaze is clear, a silent command for restraint and perhaps a reminder of their need to maintain a semblance of unity, even in discomfort.
Lin Yue responds to his look with a noncommittal "Hmph," her dissatisfaction is clear, but her respect for Dao Feng's authority prevents further protest. The tension, momentarily thick, begins to settle, each trio member finding their place within the tent.
Feeling the tension from Lin Yue's jab, Li Wei decides it's not worth engaging. Better to focus on practical tasks than be drawn into another pointless argument. He steps out of the tent, leaving the bickering behind him.
Once outside, the evening air greets him with its chill, wrapping around him and making his breath visible in the night. This cold, he finds, is preferable to the stifling atmosphere of contention he's just left inside the tent.
As Li Wei steps into the night's chill, he catches sight of the boy meticulously straightening the tent's exterior, his small hands smoothing out the canvas where it had bunched up, an effort to keep the cold at bay. This quiet diligence shifts the boy from the periphery of Li Wei's attention to the forefront of his immediate needs.
"Kid, come with me. Bring my sack," Li Wei commands, his voice firm, the expectation of obedience implicit. The boy pauses, his task interrupted, then hurries to comply, recognising the importance of responding swiftly to Li Wei's directive.
The boy, understanding the urgency in Li Wei's tone, scampers off, returning quickly with the sack in tow, his movements eager to please yet cautious, a balance between the desire to fulfil the task and the fear of making a mistake.
Li Wei leads the way, moving from the tent to a spot that offers a semblance of privacy under the night sky. He sits, the ground beneath him cold and unforgiving, the boy standing before him, sack in hand. Taking the sack, Li Wei rummages through it, extracting a bag of pills. He transfers some into his robe, replenishing his supply to replace those consumed throughout the day.
"What's your name, boy?" Li Wei asks, his tone softer yet still laced with the authority of his position. The boy, taken aback by the question, hesitates before responding with "Lu Huan,"
"You will address me as master from now on. Do as I say, and you won't be disciplined. I will be fair with you," Li Wei states, setting the terms of their relationship. He passes the boy a few silver coins. "I've seen you struggling with the sack. Buy some shit the next time we stop in town to make the journey easier; also, buy essentials."
"Yes, master," the boy replies, his voice a mix of gratitude and newfound respect. The coins in his hand represent more than just currency; they are a sign of trust and responsibility, a weight he accepts with a nod.
"Open this to the first page," he instructs, handing him the Bone Spire manual, and Lu Huan does so, revealing a detailed illustration of the human body, lines indicating the flow of qi within.
Li Wei's focus narrows as he studies the first page, an intricate illustration of the human body highlighted, showing the flow of qi. His thoughts trace the paths depicted, internalising the route Qi must take from the core of his being to the earth below. "The spine is the key," he muses silently, acknowledging the power conduit within himself.
"Turn the page," he commands, his voice a whisper against the night. The next page reveals detailed instructions on the mental preparation required for the bone spire technique. He reads about the visualisation of qi merging with the earth's essence, a complex dance of energy that demands focus and intent. Li Wei closes his eyes momentarily, picturing his body's energy flowing into the ground beneath him.
With a nod, he signals for another page turn. Here, the manual outlines the process of guiding the qi into the ground, willing it to reach deep into the earth, where it can then be manipulated to form spires. "Precision, not just power," he reminds himself, understanding that the technique's effectiveness hinges on his ability to control the depth and direction of the energy's travel.
"Turn the page," he instructs once more. The following illustrations depict the emergence of bone spires from the ground, a theoretical yet vivid representation of the technique's outcome. Li Wei imagines the sensation of connecting to the earth, of commanding the qi to create lethal formations at will. The concept challenges his understanding of martial arts and the natural world, yet he grasps the underlying principles with an adept mind.
Another page turn reveals a critical aspect: the retraction of the spires. "Control is everything," he thinks, recognising that mastery of the technique includes the ability to withdraw the energy, to render the ground as it was, leaving no trace of the power unleashed. This level of mastery speaks to a deep symbiosis between the practitioner and the earth, a balance between creation and dissolution.
As Li Wei absorbs each page, he pieces together the intricate puzzle of the bone spire technique. There are no hand gestures here, only the profound command of qi and an unwavering focus on the goal. With each instruction and each diagram, he delves deeper into the ancient knowledge, preparing himself for the moment he will attempt to bring these teachings from the realm of theory into reality.
The night wraps around him, a silent witness to his journey through the pages of the manual. With every command to turn the page, he steps closer to unlocking a power that bridges the gap between man and the mystic, between his internal reservoir of energy and the external world waiting to be shaped by his will.
As Li Wei continues his study, the routine ingestion of the blood-soaked pills becomes a backdrop to his intense focus on mastering the bone spire technique. Each pill, consumed to enhance his qi, offers only the familiar rush of energy, a sensation he has grown accustomed to. The expectation of finding a pill with extraordinary potency remains unfulfilled, each one providing the same level of qi enhancement as the last. The disappointment is palpable, yet it's the lingering taste of blood, metallic and sharp, that truly marks the experience. This taste is a constant reminder of the pills' origins and the violent acts required to obtain them.
"Reading about the bone spire technique is one thing, but truly mastering it... that requires practice. Experience is king in this world," he reflects the words of the manual echoing in his mind. He's aware that the real test of his understanding won't come from the pages of any book but from the execution of the technique itself.
"How will the qi feel as it channels through my body into the earth? How precise can my control be when shaping the spires?" These questions linger in his thoughts, unanswered puzzles that only real-world applications can solve. "The manual provides the foundation, but it's the practice that will build the house," he muses, drawing a parallel between the knowledge gained from reading and the wisdom earned through doing.
The idea of testing the technique, of feeling the power surge from his core and into the ground, excites and unnerves him in equal measure. "Mistakes are inevitable, but each one will be a lesson. Better to err in practice than in a moment of need," he considers, anticipating the challenges ahead.
"Just as fire is shaped by the wind, so too must I shape the bone spires with my will. The path to mastery is long and fraught with difficulty, but it is the only path worth walking."
Despite the uniformity of the pills' effects, Li Wei's determination does not waver. His commitment to mastering the technique and pushing the boundaries of his abilities remains undiminished. The manual, with its detailed descriptions and illustrations and the silent support of the boy by his side, fuels his resolve.
Eventually, recognising the limits of what he can achieve tonight, Li Wei closes the manual. "We're done here," he announces a note of finality in his voice. Together, he and the boy make their way back to the tent, leaving the solitude of their study behind.
The tent is designed to provide warmth and shelter. A fire crackles in the centre, its smoke ascending through a hole at the apex, ensuring the space remains smoke-free yet filled with a comforting warmth. The layout of the tent, with its occupants positioned with practicality in mind, speaks to the communal nature of their journey. Servants are situated as close to the tent's edges as possible, maximising the space available. At the same time, Dao Feng and Lin Yue occupy places by the fire, indicating their status.
The ambience inside the tent is one of weary contentment, the day's travels and the night's activities culminating in this moment of communal rest. The fire's glow bathes the interior in a soft light, casting long shadows that dance across the fabric walls. The warmth it provides is a welcome contrast to the chill of the night outside, a small comfort in the harshness of their travels.
As Li Wei and the boy step back into the warmth of the tent, Dao Feng looks up from his position near the fire.
"Ah, you're back," Dao Feng remarks, a hint of curiosity in his tone.
"Yes," Li Wei responds, settling near the fire with the boy in tow. "Went out for some fresh air and to get acquainted with my new helper."