Chapter 6: The Price of Power
The alley was empty now, save for the faint echoes of footsteps as Li Jian and Li Xuan hurried away from the scene of the fight. The Iron Eagle Gang lackeys lay where they had fallen, groaning and unconscious. But the victory, though sweet in the moment, left the brothers with a strange unease that settled in their chests like a lead weight.
They had won, yes, but something felt wrong. The rush of Qi, the power that had surged through their bodies—it had been wild, unpredictable. They had touched it, yes, but they hadn't controlled it. Not really. As they rounded another corner and slipped into the shadows, Li Xuan's brow furrowed in thought.
His chest still burned from the fight, the Qi that had coursed through him leaving an uncomfortable heat under his skin, as though his body was protesting against the unfamiliar energy. And then, he heard it.
A soft crack.
Li Xuan stopped, his breath catching in his throat. He looked down, eyes widening as he realized the cobblestones beneath his feet had fractured—thin lines spreading out from where he had landed after dodging an attack earlier. His heart raced as he knelt down, brushing his fingers over the cracks.
"Xuan, what are you doing?" Li Jian's voice was sharp but low, his eyes scanning the alley ahead, ever watchful for danger.
Li Xuan didn't respond right away, his gaze fixed on the cobblestones. "Jian… I think we caused this."
Li Jian frowned, glancing down at the cracks. "What do you mean?"
Li Xuan's fingers traced the lines, his mind racing. "During the fight, when we were using Qi… we weren't controlling it. It was flowing through us, but not how it was supposed to. I think we released more than we meant to—without realizing it."
Li Jian's eyes darkened as the realization hit him. The power they had felt, the surge of energy—it had been too much, and in their lack of control, it had spilled out, affecting the environment around them. "You're saying we almost blew ourselves up?"
"Not exactly," Li Xuan murmured, standing up. "But we're not ready for this kind of power yet. Our control is… rudimentary. If we push too hard without knowing what we're doing, it could be dangerous. Not just to our enemies, but to us."
Li Jian ran a hand through his hair, his usual bravado dampened by the weight of his brother's words. "So what do we do? We can't just stop using Qi."
Li Xuan shook his head. "No, but we need to get better. More precise. We can't afford to be reckless, especially not now."
Over the next two weeks, the brothers trained relentlessly, their focus shifting from raw power to control. The first days were frustrating. Li Jian, impatient as ever, struggled with the subtlety required to rein in the Qi that now flowed through him. His natural instinct was to let it explode outward, to overwhelm with brute force. But every time he pushed too hard, the Qi would lash out wildly, leaving scorch marks on the walls of their hideout or deep gouges in the ground.
Li Xuan fared better, his natural caution allowing him to take things slower. He spent hours in quiet meditation, feeling the Qi in his body, learning its patterns, its rhythms. He discovered that Qi wasn't something to be forced—it needed to be guided, like the flow of a river being channeled through a narrow stream. Too much pressure and it would spill over, too little and it would stagnate.
Together, they practiced—sparring with each other, testing their limits. They learned to strike with precision, using Qi to enhance their movements without letting it consume them. The cracks in the stone, the stray bursts of energy—those mistakes became less frequent as they refined their control.
Li Jian, though still fiery, learned to hold back when necessary, using short bursts of Qi to amplify his strength without losing control. Li Xuan's control grew more precise, allowing him to channel energy into his strikes, making each hit more effective without wasting energy.
One evening, as the sun set over the slums, casting long shadows across the narrow alleyways, the brothers sat in their hovel, a quiet calm settling over them. Their bodies were sore from training, but the tension that had once gripped them had eased. They were learning. They were getting better.
Li Jian leaned back against the wall, his breath steady, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. "Two weeks, huh? Feels longer."
Li Xuan sat across from him, his back straight as he stared at the small fire flickering between them. "It's progress," he said quietly. "We're not where we need to be, but we're getting there."
Li Jian grinned, though it was more subdued than usual. "Yeah, I can actually hit you without blowing up the room now."
Li Xuan chuckled softly, but his mind was already moving ahead, thinking about what came next. The Iron Eagle Ganghadn't come after them in the past two weeks, but that didn't mean they were safe. It was only a matter of time before the gang regrouped, and when they did, they would come back stronger, more prepared.
"We need more than just Qi control," Li Xuan said, his voice thoughtful. "We have that scroll, but we haven't really looked at the martial arts techniques. If we're going to survive what's coming, we need more than just raw energy. We need skill."
Li Jian raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly. "You mean that old scroll we took off the kid at the docks? You think it's any good?"
Li Xuan reached into his pack, pulling out the weathered scroll they had taken weeks before. The parchment was worn, the ink faded in places, but the diagrams and symbols were still legible. He unrolled it carefully, laying it out between them.
The scroll was simple—a basic introduction to martial arts techniques that incorporated Qi, but it was far more advanced than anything the brothers had ever seen. The movements were elegant, designed to channel Qi efficiently through the body, making each strike more powerful without wasting energy.
"This is just the beginning," Li Xuan said, tracing the lines with his fingers. "But it's enough to give us an edge. If we can learn these techniques, we'll be more than just fighters with Qi—we'll be cultivators."
Li Jian leaned forward, his eyes scanning the diagrams. "So what's the first move?"
Li Xuan studied the scroll for a moment before pointing to a section that described the Swift Gale Fist, a technique that focused on combining speed with controlled bursts of Qi. It was designed to overwhelm an opponent with a flurry of rapid, precise strikes, each one infused with just enough energy to break through defenses.
"This," Li Xuan said, tapping the page. "We start with the Swift Gale Fist. It's all about control and speed. If we can master this, we'll be able to strike hard and fast without wasting energy."
Li Jian nodded, his excitement growing. "Alright. Let's see what this 'Swift Gale Fist' can do."
The next morning, they began their training in earnest, following the steps laid out in the scroll. The Swift Gale Fistrequired precise movements—rapid punches that flowed seamlessly from one strike to the next, with each fist guided by a controlled burst of Qi. At first, their strikes were clumsy, the Qi slipping out of their control and dissipating into the air. But as they practiced, day after day, the technique began to take shape.
Li Jian, with his natural aggression, found the technique suited him well. He was able to channel his energy into each strike, delivering a series of blows that came faster than his opponents could react. His fists moved like the wind, swift and relentless, his body following the rhythm of the technique as if he were born to it.
Li Xuan, ever precise, focused on refining his control. He practiced the technique with a calm, steady intensity, each punch delivered with just the right amount of Qi, no more and no less. His strikes were efficient, cutting through the air with pinpoint accuracy.
Together, they sparred, testing each other's limits, pushing themselves harder with every session. The small hovel became their training ground, and as the days passed, their movements became sharper, their Qi more refined.
But it wasn't just about the technique. It was about survival. The fight with the Iron Eagle lackeys had shown them how dangerous the world of cultivation could be. Without proper control, Qi was as much a liability as a weapon.
Now, after weeks of training, they were no longer fumbling in the dark. The Swift Gale Fist had become a part of them, and with it came the knowledge that they were ready for whatever came next.
As the two weeks drew to a close, Li Jian leaned against the wall, breathing hard but grinning. "So, we're cultivators now, huh?"
Li Xuan smiled, though there was still a lingering sense of urgency in his eyes. "We're getting there. But we've only just started."
Li Jian chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Then let's keep going. The Iron Eagles won't know what hit them."
The brothers exchanged a glance—one filled with determination, a silent promise that no matter what came next, they would be ready.
And as the sun set over the slums, the brothers stood at the threshold of something far greater than they had ever imagined. The path to power was open, and they were walking it together.