The prospect of action, of applying his skills beyond the theoretical, stirs a sense of purpose within him. With its narrow streets and whispered rumours, the town becomes a backdrop to the unfolding path before him, a journey of his own making within the larger tapestry of the Bone Ash Sect's legacy.
Li Wei reflects on the situation as a chance to further his skills in "Bone Spire" and "Bone Manipulation." The prospect of facing bandits does not trouble him; his intentions are set. "Encountering bandits would simply provide a practical application for my techniques. If they cross my path, I'll address it. Otherwise, my concern remains minimal," he thinks, focusing squarely on using this opportunity to enhance his cultivation, undisturbed by the potential moral implications of such encounters.
"Although I've agreed to help, that doesn't mean I'll go out of my way to find them," he contemplates the clarity of his decision, cutting through the complexity of potential encounters. "Should these people be unfortunate enough to cross paths with me, theyll make good test subjects."
This internal dialogue shapes his outlook on the impending interactions. Li Wei's readiness to apply his skills, if necessary, is tempered by a pragmatic approach to engagement. "If not," he concludes, "I'll simply continue on. My priority is my cultivation."
As Li Wei and Lu Huan are escorted by a guard to their temporary residence, the architectural beauty of the house unfolds before them. The structure's sweeping, tiled roofs that curve upwards at the edges speak of traditional elegance. Wooden lattice windows punctuate the whitewashed walls, offering glimpses of the interior's warmth. The courtyard at the heart of the dwelling is serene, a stone path leading through meticulously maintained gardens, past a small pond where fish glide beneath the surface.
Upon arrival, Li Wei's gaze sweeps over the guard, his impatience surfacing. "What are you standing around for? Go get me those chickens and bring them to the village gates," he commands, his tone brooking no delay.
The guard stammers a hasty, "Yes, yes, right away," before scurrying off to fulfil the request, understanding the urgency behind the seemingly peculiar demand.
Choosing a room within the house, Li Wei assesses its suitability for his needs — a space offering tranquillity and privacy for contemplation and practice. The room is sparsely furnished, in keeping with the minimalist aesthetics, featuring a low table and cushions for seating, with scrolls and ink set neatly to one side. Natural light filters through the paper screens, casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floor.
"Lu Huan, hide my personal effects," Li Wei instructs, ensuring his belongings are securely stored in the room's wooden chest. "Come with me," he adds, signalling it's time to head towards their next destination.
"Bring my books," he instructs, eyes locking onto those of his followers to ensure the gravity of the request is understood. "Make sure they are out of sightt," he adds, the directive succinct, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Lu Huan nods, a gesture of compliance, as he gathers the precious volumes. He carefully conceals them from prying eyes, ensuring their safety and secrecy.
Li Wei steps forward, his movements deliberate as he leads towards the village gates. Each step on the cobblestone path resonates with a clear intention, the familiarity of the route doing little to dull the anticipation of what lies ahead. The air around them carries the quiet hum of the village, a backdrop to their singular focus.
They reach the designated spot, the boundary between the known comforts of the village and the outside. The gates stand tall, a testament to the divide between the safety of the village and the wild unpredictability of the outside world.
Time passes in a measured beat, the sun tracing its path across the sky, casting shadows that dance lightly over the ground. The wait, though brief, stretches long in the silence of expectation.
The guard reappears, his approach marked by a hastened pace that speaks of urgency. His chest heaves with the effort of his swift return, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow the only testament to the speed of his task. In his grasp, he carries a cage, the bamboo framework speaking of skilled craftsmanship. Its construction is light and designed for mobility, yet it does not compromise on strength.
Within the confines of the cage, chickens stir. Their movements are restless, an orchestra of soft clucks and rustles filling the air as they shift and peck at the bamboo floor. Oblivious to the gravity of their situation, they remain ensconced in their immediate concerns, the simplicity of their existence stark against the complexity of the task at hand.
Li Wei observes, his gaze lingering on the cage. For all their unwitting innocence, the chickens are about to play a crucial role in the unfolding events.
The guard carefully sets the cage down, his breathing now evened out as he recovers from exertion. The exchange of responsibility from his hands to Li Wei's is unspoken but understood.
The path from the village gates, now marked by the arrival of the chickens, stretches out before them.
With Lu Huan in step, Li Wei crosses the threshold of the village gates, the boundary between the known and the realms that lie beyond. The gate closed behind them with a muted thud, a finality that marks the beginning of their venture into the open.
In the quiet that follows their departure, Li Wei turns to Lu Huan, his movements deliberate. From his hands to Lu Huan's, the cage containing the chickens is passed. Li Wei then leads without a word, setting a pace that speaks of purpose and resolve.
Following the main road, Li Wei moves with intent. The village, with its woven tapestry of lives and stories, fades behind him as the path unwinds under his feet. The road, a ribbon of dirt and stone, stretches ahead, leading away from the security of known boundaries.
Without hesitation, his course shifts. He steps off the path, his boots finding new purchase on the soft, yielding earth beneath the grass. The change in terrain is immediate, the grass brushing against his legs with each step, a whisper of the untamed world that lies just beyond the village's reach.
The world around him opens up, the expanse of open field stretching wide before narrowing at the edge where the forest begins its dominion. Li Wei advances, taking him closer to the threshold between the open and the enclosed, the tamed and the wild.
He halts at the precipice of the forest, where the grass thins and gives way to the dense underbrush of the trees. Here, the boundary is marked not just by the change in the landscape but by the shift in the air—the scent of earth and leaf mould, the sound of life hidden within the forest's depths.
Standing at this boundary, Li Wei pauses, taking in the transition before him. The forest looms, a wall of green, its shadows deep and inviting. The grass underfoot, still touched by the sun's light, contrasts with the dimness that awaits beyond the forest's edge.
"Here is good," Li Wei declares, his voice breaking the silence that had accompanied their walk. The space around them, a clearing near the forest's edge, offers a seclusion fitting for what is to come.
"Yes, master," responds Lu Huan, his voice a murmur against the backdrop of the forest's whispers. He settles close by, his presence a silent testament to his vigilance and unwavering focus on Li Wei.
Li Wei finds his place on the ground, the earth beneath him firm and unyielding. Lu Huan, mirroring his master's action, sits nearby, his attention fixed on Li Wei, a student eager for the lessons veiled within the actions of his mentor.
"Give me the manuals," Li Wei commands, his request cutting through the quiet with the precision of a blade.
"Yes, master," Lu Huan replies, his hands moving to retrieve the items. From the depths of his belongings, he produces two manuals, their covers worn by use and time. With reverence, he hands them over to Li Wei.
Li Wei receives the manuals "Bone Spire" and "Bone Manipulation," their titles a promise of the power contained within their pages. Their weight in his hands feels like holding the very essence of power they offer.
Li Wei unfolds the cover of the "Bone Spire" manual, the pages crackling softly under his touch. He places it open before him, the characters etched on the paper whispering ancient secrets. Beside him, he carefully sets down the second manual, its presence a silent promise of knowledge yet to be tested.
Under the cloak of dusk, Li Wei sits at the forest's edge, the manuals by his side serving as silent mentors. The "Bone Spire" manual lies open, its pages illuminated by the moon's soft glow, each word a beacon guiding him through the complexities.
Li Wei settles into a stance of concentrated stillness, the forest's ambient chorus fading to a murmur against the focus of his task. He extends his hand towards the earth, his palm open, as if to greet the ground beneath him. The initial effort to coax the spires from beneath the soil begins with a surge of qi from his core, directed through his arm and towards the waiting earth. Yet, the ground remains unmarked, his internal energy dissipating into the air, invisible and without effect.