Chapter 4: The Wrong Prodigy

Chapter 4: The Wrong Prodigy

Since the age of four, his family’s training had been intensive. Paike had been drilling with instructors, family members, and fellow students for at least an hour or two each day. Even more when he reached eight and started to learn to sense qi. That was where childhood ended for the Kong family. If he wanted to be a full member, he was expected to pull his weight, and from then until his service to the emperor ended, that was all about training and getting stronger.

After all, his family was based on martial prowess, and the beginning of any good cultivator’s techniques began with the real world. So, a solid grounding in hand-to-hand combat was a good place to start.

When he was ten and still not awakened, he started learning the art of the sword. These lessons had continued year after year, even though he hadn’t awakened. But one thing he never really experienced at home or in training was any real danger. Everything was sparring and drilling; sparring was not live full-contact like the cultivators did. As a fragile mortal, even as the disciples from his age group awakened and went hard at each other, he was left hitting dummies and exchanging practiced combos.

Not to say that all this training was useless, but when he faced his first qi-powered attack, he didn’t react with the aplomb and grace he had been trained to. Instead of using the power in his limbs to gracefully duck under the gout of flame and counterattack with some technique from a lower position, he threw his hands up in front of his face, shielding it from the heat of the fire.

The channels in his arms were only just developed. So naturally, he pushed his sluggish qi through his pathways with all his force as he blocked the attack. In front of him grew an undefined dispersed cloud of qi. It hung around his hands longer than he would have expected ambient qi to.

By any right, it should have had no effect. It wasn’t even a proper technique, and clearly, despite the rather lackluster appearance of the Han scion’s attack, it was a proper technique, likely one taught by his family. The fact that he’d produced it after the recent awakening was quite impressive. It showed the young boy had natural talent and potential—far more than Paike could ever hope for.

When he expelled the qi, it formed less of a cloud and more of a floating bubble. His qi somehow maintained its stubborn insistence on not moving gracefully through his channels, even as it exited his body. As long as it was still under his control, it refused to move with any alacrity.

The raging fire crashed into the bubble. Paike opened his eyes from the quick blink he had tried to shield his face and watched as the fire broiled off to the sides of him, dissipating harmlessly into the air. The bubble didn’t pop as he had expected. He frowned, feeling the qi slowly evaporating from his control. Not from the actual heat, but from his opponent’s qi bashing into his. But maybe, finally, his stunted cultivation was helping him. His qi refused to move even in the face of a hostile technique.

For a half-second, a smile tugged at his lips. Was he actually able to compete with a real cultivator? He woke years late and could barely do the most basic cultivation with days of concentration. What he got done in days would take most novices a couple of hours at most—unless he cheated and damaged himself by cultivating improperly like he had in the carriage.

Apparently, the answer was yes. Yes, he could compete, for now. But that moment of fleeting elation fell as the grains of qi still dissolving in his dantian sputtered out. Luckily, it appeared that his opponent also had a limited amount of reserves as well. Just as the fire started to break through Paike’s improvised shield, the Han scion doubled over, his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, sweat marring the perfectly styled hair.

Paike heard gasps and whispers from the crowd.

“That defense, an impenetrable barrier technique, at Ruby stage,” someone said in awe.

Paike frowned. Barrier? His bubble of uncontrolled qi could hardly be called such. But then again, those watching wouldn’t have developed the sense to see the qi yet.

“Is that one of the new Kong prodigies?” another person whispered.

“No, that’s their untalented son.” More muttering from the crowd.

“To think that even he would be so powerful.”

“Man, that family is somehow still underestimated.”

The crowd was getting louder, but Paike tuned them out and lurched forward. The qi that had been empowering him. In its absence, the absolute exhaustion of running and then carrying his sister up the stairs took over. His lunge into striking range turned into a bit more of a stumble. Still, it got him in range of the boy straightening up. Remembering his lessons well, he twisted with his legs and channeled the force up through his hips, winding up a textbook-perfect hook right into the kid’s gut.

Neither of them had qi reserves left, and this was an experience that Paike was extremely familiar with. With them only having the passive enhancements of a newly awakened cultivator, it would have been similar to talented mortals fighting. But Paike had a head of height, tens of kilograms of weight on his opponent, and several years more of hand-to-hand combat training. That being said, the hit sent the Han scion crumpling over his fist like a piece of wet parchment.

Paike looked down at his defeated foe, considering whether the fight was over. The boy didn’t get up; he lay there gasping, and his cousin glared daggers at him. Paike turned his back and walked slowly back to his sister, who was smiling beatifically. She pressed her hands together and gave him a slight bow.

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“Thank you for defending my honor, brother,” she said formally.

He returned the slight bow. “It was my pleasure, little sister.”

They turned and walked away from the encounter and deeper into the crowd.

“I still have no idea who that was,” Liming said to him.

Paike looked over at his little sister. “Really? I thought you were just riling them up for some reason. You really didn’t recognize him?”

Liming shook her head. “No. Have I met him before? Should I know who he is?”

“No, you haven’t met him, but you should definitely know who he is. That was Han Saiyan.”

She blinked. “The heir to the dukedom?”

Paike nodded.

“…and you just kicked the shit out of him. I’m sure mother won’t be too mad.”