Life is a dance of light. We can see plants drink water and turn to drink the light. While all humanity needs the light to eat, to work, and to fight back the night. The kingdom of heaven gifted all life with ki, the dan tiens to transform ki to chi, and the forms needed to pull chi through and out of the body. Tension, Release, and the Balance between is the call of every soul to the Kingdom of Heaven.


    ~From writings of an unnamed student of the Philosopher of Good.


    PoV - Xinyi


    Xinyi stood from her meditation, Chi filling her Lower Dan Tian. The complete amount of Ki she could draw from a single meal left her both exhilarated and bloated. (How will I complete the form while this full? I might vomit.)


    She pictured boys watching her with dreamy looks… until she sprayed them with Ki-rich rice and carrots, and chi-beast pork chunks.


    She shuddered. “That won’t happen. We are practicing this full for a reason.”


    She looked around the siheyuan making sure no one was waiting to walk through to the Family Shrines Juniper bush.


    She took a deep breath full of the Blooming Hibiscus and Jasmine, she clapped her cheeks. Then began the form.


    A tingling burn rippled through her body as Chi surged into her clenched muscles. The warmth of it pulsed, weaving through her limbs before stilling in her hands, bringing restoration. She flowed and halted in the Chen Style, each stance a deliberate contrast of motion and stillness.


    The courtyard was quiet, save for some neighborhood Cicada and the humming of her Radient Chi. Late afternoon light painted golden streaks across the stone roof tiles. As she kept the tension in her hands and feet.


    She spun into a strike and held the pose, then released and flowed through several more sets of the form.


    With a sharp inhale, she swept her arms toward the target, a bundle of dried leaves bound with twine, and clenched her fist, two fingers extended.


    Whamp!


    The leaves scattered, transformed into smoking ashes, their tattered twine curling in the faint heat. A flicker of satisfaction swelled in her chest as she bowed, exhaling slowly.


    (Should I use fans? Or maybe ribbons? No… ribbons will reveal flaws in the healing rests.)


    She scanned the siheyuan for more leaves to bundle with the remaining twine. The scent of burnt foliage lingered, mingling with the faint jasmine and hibiscus that drifted throughout the garden of the courtyard.


    (Is it good enough? I wish I had Light Weaving Chi already… or maybe I should have gone for the Warding Chi of Gyam. Then I could do the image reflection forms and have greater defense. But that is such a longer journey to reach. It would have been too much to ask of Baba and Mama.)


    She scoffed while tying another twine-wrapped bundle to the hook in front of the sand and water buckets next to her father''s worn smooth wooden dummy.


    (Like you could master one let alone two new forms without a tutor… how would you blend them with Chen Style? Argh, I wish I could know everything!)


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Her mind drifted to the caricature drawings her father had brought home, portraits of people from beyond the world gates.


    The Light Weaving Chi users of Hozho bore some resemblance to the people of Kas’Hao, yet their eyes, foreheads, and cheeks held unfamiliar shapes and depths. The people of Gyam, as drawn, were far more different, not copper and bronze like those of Kas’Hao or Hozho, but more like rice with the barest hint of cinnamon and chili oil or like a cherry blossom pink that is half aging to white.


    (Mother said I must be flawless if I want the judges to notice me. And if I succeed we visit Gyam or Hozho and get other land Chi from a Juniper shrine.)


    Sour nervousness washed over her.


    She shouted a hē xiào.


    Nodded facing north and her target. “I will be perfect at this before the festival… before I humiliate myself in front of the judges and the community.”


    Her stomach gurgled from the lingering fullness. (One more time. Stronger this time.)


    She raised her hands, Chi moving through her to her tense to cramping hand. She raised to strike—


    “Xinyi! Did you hear? The Kingdom of Miezaru Hi closed the world gate! All the trade routes are blocked! Maybe we won’t get to go on the ship Baba and Mama said we would!”


    Her brother’s excited voice burst into the courtyard.


    Startled, “HAO!” Xinyi whipped her head toward him. The Chi in her hand released from her control wildly.


    WHAMP!


    She gasped at the damage. Her cast energy had been visible as it flew from her inefficiency. The blast slammed into the stonewall, sending out spidering cracks, shattering roof tiles, and leaving blackened scorch marks along the carved beams under the eaves. But worst of all, the blast struck the upper half of their father’s wooden training dummy…


    A slow sizzle then a crack and the smoking dummy started to burn.


    She bites her lip a wash of fear and anger.


    Hao tilted his head in that stupid bird-like way, then looked back at Xinyi. He rubbed his thumbs over his fingertips in his nervous tick. “Baba, won’t like that.”


    Xinyi’s stomach turned to lead. “Hao! Why did you…” She cut herself off, pressing her palms to her temples. (It wasn’t his fault.)


    A striking post fell from the dummy rolling towards Hao.


    Hao picked up the broken wooden limb, running his fingers along the ash-charred edge. “This wood was already stressed. See? The grain is uneven here.” He traced the cracks with near-reverence, eyes gleaming with curiosity rather than concern.


    Xinyi groaned, running to the buckets, taking a water one, and slowly pouring it over the dummy. “Hao, you can’t just yell like that when I’m practicing forms and chi channeling! I…” She gestured at the scorched wall, the dummy’s post. “Look what happened!”


    Hao paused, considering this. He tapped his fingers against the wood. One finger, two finger, and three finger. Then looked up. “But it’s important.”


    Xinyi sighed, frustration battling guilt. “What?”


    He adjusted his grip on the broken wood, his voice more serious now. “If Miezaru Hi keeps the gate closed, all the trade routes that go through there will stop. That means no more beaver pelts or that new giant grain won’t be coming. And we can’t get new Chi.”


    Xinyi blinked, her frustration faltering. (That… actually is important. Argh, Baba’s going to kill me.)


    She rubbed her forehead, her mind scrambling for a solution.


    Hao tilted his head. “If you had Warding Chi, do you think the dummy would’ve been protected if we embedded a chi beast crystal?”


    Xinyi exhaled, “Possibly… we need to clean this up.”


    He nodded, setting the broken post down with gentle care. “I think I like Warding Chi. I will be a warding master.”


    Xinyi stared at him. Then, despite herself, she laughed. (Of course, he wants that.)