Chapter 34- A Boy Goes to War

Tian was in better control of his emotions by the time the Sisters left the Temple. He went directly to his cozy cell with its rat-proof walls and rain-proof roof and the bed that had a mattress stuffed with cotton and a blanket with no holes in it. Where nothing smelled rotten or sick. Where he was safe, warm, and clean. Where he first met people that wanted him. That went out of their way for him. Sacrificed for him.

He lost it again for a while. Eventually, he sat back up on the bed and looked at the ring Elder Rui gave him.

Tian circulated his vital energy through his hand and was startled to realize he could sense the contents of the ring. He couldn’t see them, exactly, but he could roughly make out what they were. There were a few small bottles, a few bags and quite a bit of neatly folded cloth. Camping supplies, he guessed. But most precious of all were two slender books.

He flexed his will, and the books appeared in his hand. It felt as magical as he always thought it looked. Both books were ratty and worn, far from the immaculate copies in the Temple library.

“Light Body, Heavy Hands. Well that’s not a subtle name.” Tian smiled. He thought his voice sounded a little muffled. Seems he was still choked up. He looked at the other volume before opening the first. “Counter-Jumper. What does that even mean?”

He opened the second book first, just to see what the preamble said.

What are the three horrors of cultivation? Losing it, failing to progress it, and being killed along the way to the peak. I don’t have some special way of dealing with the first two, but I can teach you how to deal with the last one. You spot the trouble first. You figure out who’s trying to get the jump on you, then you get the jump on them. Nothing is so deadly as ambushing an ambusher, and nothing so satisfying as swapping glasses with a poisoner. Just remember- your whole body is covered with keenly sensitive nerves, and what’s more, you have at least some sensitivity to qi. Time to make use of everything you’ve got.

That sounded promising. It didn’t have quite the… refined tone he was used to in cultivation manuals. Not quite so full of complicated ideas. But that was more of a positive than a negative for Tian. He opened the other manual.

The faster you move, the harder you hit. The lighter you are, the less force you need to move around. Of course, it’s a trade off. You have to be moving really fast to match the force of a fat bastard taking his shot. So what’s the solution? Be able to change your weight… kind of. You are cheating with vital energy, letting it do some of the pushing against gravity for you. You race forward way faster than they expect, then cancel the art and thump the prick. Then activate it again and dodge around. When you see your next opening, stop and thump ‘em again. Do it right and you only have to thump ‘em once. Or stab ‘em. And if the bastards are too much to deal with, just run away. Not like the little shits can catch up with you.

“Well that lacks reserve and propriety.” Tian muttered. He flipped through both books. The elder hadn’t said anything about returning them. He must have looted them on a battlefield. Tian wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that, but eventually just shrugged. Everyone below the Heavenly Person Level is an ant, and they practice the arts of ants. Elder Rui might have taken them off any random body and just held on to them. The Elder must have thought they were a good fit for him. Tian smiled. The Elder had been managing the Outer Court for centuries. He was probably right.

There were still a few hours until dinner. He got to memorizing the books. It was something he worked on with Grandpa Jun all the way back in the Junkyard. Mnemonics, memory palaces, linking ideas to a story, visualization- all sorts of tricks and techniques to remember something quickly. Learning it was something else. That took a lot more work. But committing something to memory was relatively easy for him. He carefully read every word and examined every diagram. Over and over. Locking down each brushstroke and each character.

He wouldn’t let down Brother Fu or Elder Rui. He didn’t want to let down Grandpa Jun or himself either.

He walked to dinner in an odd mood, almost floating. He put the rope dart in his storage ring, then tried to throw it from the ring. It just fell in his hand. He also noticed that the rope dart could be in or out, but you couldn’t have the dart trailing the rope out of the ring. It was all or nothing. One of the senior brothers spotted what he was up to and nudged him.

“Trying to make your hidden weapon even more hidden?”

“Yes, Senior Brother.”

“Everybody gets the same idea when they first get a storage ring. Guys who like throwing knives are an absolute pain in the ass for this. The knives just drop into their hands, so they can throw a whole stack of them really fast. Archers too. For everyone else, it’s just a convenience. One less thing to carry, you know? A lot less things to carry.”

“But I notice most of the Senior Brothers do carry their weapons on them, not in their rings.”

“Yep. I do that when I’m out of the Temple. It’s… well. You grew up in the jungle. Do you plan on putting your rope dart in the ring? Technically it would be safer. Much less chance it would be lost or stolen.”

Tian thought about it for half a second before he started violently shaking his head.

“Yeah. That’s the reason right there. We just don’t feel safe without feeling the sword or saber on us all the time. And for most of us, our weapons are practically another limb. Hell, most of us use our sabers more than we use our-”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Brains, Junior Brother Meng?” Brother Fu appeared like a ghost in the twilight.

“Them too, Senior Brother.” The senior brother grinned, unrepentant. “I’ll see you both at dinner.”

“If his dinner tonight is more than bean sprouts over rice with no chilli sauce, I’ll consider myself a failure in this life.” Brother Fu grumbled.

“I know what he was going to say, Senior Brother.”

“I know you know. Decorum, Tian. Propriety and manners. They do matter. They let people get along with each other in ways that don’t have to involve violence. And it doesn’t always mean acting like a stuck up prig either. A beggar’s camp will have its etiquette, as will warriors gathered around a fire, or fishermen gathering on a beach to discuss their catch. Know how to speak and act, and you will find roads open for you wherever you travel. Remain ignorant, and live in a world full of walls.”

They walked slowly together.

“Is it really the right time to worry about decorum, Senior Brother?”