RaaWC2 - Chapter 98: Challenges of Separation

The weight of the spirit fruit pack settled heavily on Xiulan’s shoulders as she trudged behind Ming back toward Aeris. The rest of the journey was thankfully uneventful. Dust coated their boots by the time the Treasure Pavilion’s familiar architecture came into view.

They went straight to the Mission Bureau. A clerk checked the fruit packs, nodded curtly, and stamped Ming’s mission scroll complete. Ming recounted the bandit encounter with concise efficiency while Xiulan stood silently beside her. The clerk listened, made a few notes, and pushed a pouch across the counter.

“Hazard pay,” the clerk stated flatly. “Double the usual reward for dealing with the disruption.”

Outside the bureau, Ming tipped half the clinking spirit stones into Xiulan’s hand. “Your share. You earned it.”

Xiulan pocketed the stones. Their combined weight felt substantial, but the big reward was that being back a day early presented an opportunity.

She could find Pan Xia in the kitchens and continue their cultivation food experiments. But a taut feeling lingered in the back of her neck, a residual echo of the fight, the burning lungs, the near miss. The idea of forcing herself into more work felt wrong.

Maybe it would be a better idea to rest.

She excused herself from Ming and headed toward her assigned quarters. The small room felt confining after the open air outside of Aeris. She put her things on the foot of her bed and then sat down heavily at her writing desk, her gaze drifting to the window.

Would Ming secure that meeting with Master Qingfeng? She considered his detached demeanor since her arrival. He had been totally absent. Securing his immediate attention felt improbable.

Xiulan closed her eyes and leaned back. A fleeting sensation surfaced—the memory of Mei Chen’s fingers gently untangling her hair, the soothing pressure on her shoulders after a long day back at the Lin estate. That felt so long ago, now. A pang followed the memory. Was it greedy to miss that simple comfort, that uncomplicated attention?

An unexpected wave of profound loneliness washed over her. She pushed the feeling down firmly, straightening her posture at the table. Staring out the window wouldn’t solve anything.

Even if she wanted to rush out of the Treasure Pavilion and go see them, the Skyward Institute gates and guards would surely catch her. They would arrest her as a spy or something.

The rigid structure wouldn’t bend for her sudden wistfulness.

But she could write a letter. She could ask for a meeting when they had a day off. That would be the best thing to do.

Xiulan settled at the table and began writing. She detailed the recent mission, the bandits, her mixed success. She mentioned her new peers, the demanding classes, and her admittedly small progress in cultivation. It felt good to put it all down, even if it highlighted some of her shortcomings.

A gentle pulse of qi touched her awareness. She looked over at her bed. The spirit beast egg pulsed from its pouch, radiating a faint warmth. Did it sense her mood? Was it trying to cheer her up? A tiny smile touched her lips.

Finishing the letter, she folded it carefully. She stood, stretched, and walked to the bed. Pulling out the smooth, surprisingly heavy egg, she lay down.

She placed it on her forehead, its subtle warmth seeping into her skin. The rhythmic qi pulses felt soothing, almost like a tiny heartbeat against her brow. Xiulan closed her eyes, letting the quiet energy lull her toward sleep.

*** (is this the first non-Xiulan POV in the story? I can't remember :scream: )

Mei Chen knelt on the cold stone floor, her entire being split between physical and ethereal. The spirit orb hovered nearby, pulsing with yin energy that threatened to overwhelm her fragile balance. She pushed her core’s yang outward, trying to maintain equilibrium while containing the orb’s frost-laden power.

Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the chill emanating from her skin. That her body still responded to stimuli and had functions like a living human’s was an excellent sign she had been told.

Probably because her body had never had time to cool in Xiulan’s arms…

The thought shook her concentration and the frost patterns that naturally formed on her arms when she used her powers began creeping up toward her shoulders.

“You’re trying too hard,” Instructor Jiu Shu stated flatly.

Her concentration shattered. The orb wobbled dangerously, ice crystals forming in the surrounding air. Before disaster struck, Instructor Jiu’s qi surged outward—a casual flick of power that enveloped the orb. The dangerous energies calmed instantly under his control.

“Ugh!” Mei Chen bit her lip, frustration burning through her. Six attempts. Six failures. Each time she’d held the balance longer, but never long enough to pass.

What made it worse was how simple this test seemed for everyone else. Only her unique nature made it nearly impossible—the fact that she was dead. A spirit tethered to her own corpse.

She glanced down at her hands. They looked alive enough. Her flesh still pulsed with energy, her meridians still carried qi, but that was just her power forcing her body to mimic life. A puppet show with her own remains.

The simplest test proved it. She could hold her breath indefinitely with zero discomfort.

Other cultivators eventually reached that stage too—transcending the need for air, food, water. But Xiulan, Feng Yu, Ren Chun—none of them were anywhere near that point. That milestone waited far in their future.

But for Mei Chen? She was already dead. That was all the proof anyone needed.

She ducked her head at Instructor Jiu Shu’s reprimand. The man’s face remained impassive, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he observed her.

“Your thoughts turn dark too quickly. A spirit’s power flows from intention. Negative emotions corrupt the balance.”

“I apologize, Senior Brother Jiu.” Mei Chen felt a pinch of annoyance at how easily he read her. Was it her face betraying her? Or more likely, he sensed the fluctuations in her spirit energy. Either way, it left her feeling exposed.

She straightened her back, frost patterns receding from her arms as she steadied her breathing—a habit she maintained despite not needing air.

“I would like to visit Sister Xiulan soon,” Mei Chen said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Jiu Shu’s expression hardened. “Do you remember Elder Tianxu’s teachings on spirit obsession?”

The question hit Mei Chen like a bucket of ice water. Her shoulders slumped as she nodded.

“Yes, Senior Brother.”

The words deflated her completely. This was precisely why she had reluctantly accepted their separation. A spirit with unstable energy that fixated too intensely on an obsession risked transformation into a wrathful spirit.

She and her friends had confronted such a being on their journey from Blackmere to Aeris. It had been a horrifying enough experience to keep her dreams unpleasant some nights.

Mei Chen stared at her hands. The thought of becoming such a monster made her stomach twist. She couldn’t let that happen. Xiulan would blame herself if she lost control and transformed. The guilt would destroy her sister.

“I understand the risks,” Mei Chen said quietly. “I just miss her.” Mei Chen pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’ll continue to work on my control, Senior Brother Jiu.”

Jiu Shu nodded with clinical detachment. “Return in three days. Until then, continue with your standard classes alongside your peers.”

Mei Chen bowed deeply. She backed away three steps before turning to exit the meditation chamber, maintaining proper etiquette despite her disappointment.

The heavy stone door closed behind her with a dull thud. Mei Chen exhaled sharply. She took two steps forward and nearly collided with Feng Yu.

“Oh!” Mei Chen jumped back. “Princess!”

Feng Yu leaned against the corridor wall, arms crossed over her chest. Her amber eyes scanned Mei Chen’s face. “Things didn’t go well again?”

Mei Chen sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. “Sixth attempt. Sixth failure.”

“Cheer up.” Feng Yu patted her back awkwardly. “I’m sure you’ll master what you need. Your control improves each time.”

Mei Chen fell into step beside Feng Yu as they walked through the main courtyard of Skyward Institute. The sentiment was appreciated, but it was hard to feel optimistic.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the polished stone walkways, already alive with students hurrying to their classes.

Mei Chen flexed her fingers and watched as small frost patterns formed and dissolved on her skin. “He says my control improves each time, but not fast enough.”

Feng Yu nodded. “Skyward’s spirit cultivation methods seem rigorous.”

“What about you? Still struggling with the qi current redirection?”

“Finished that last week.” Feng Yu smirked. “Now they have me working on something called ‘Celestial Breath Technique.’ Essentially compressing the qi into explosive force without using fire qi. Feels unnatural.”

Mei Chen laughed. “At least your classes make sense. They stuck me with theoretical studies on ghost manifestations yesterday. But I already have a body.”

“Have you seen Ren Chun’s latest antics?” Feng Yu asked, changing the subject.

“How could I miss it? He challenged Senior Brother Liu to a sword duel right in the middle of lunch.”

“And Senior Brother Wei the day before,” Feng Yu added. “He can’t go three days without picking a fight with someone twice his cultivation level.”

A small movement caught Mei Chen’s attention as something golden poked out from Feng Yu’s hair. Liuhuo emerged, stretching his serpentine body and yawning, tiny flecks of golden yang escaping his mouth.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Mei Chen said as the fire serpent floated toward her. She extended her hand, and Liuhuo nuzzled against her palm. Mei Chen gently rubbed the top of his head with her thumb. “Sleeping in the princess’s hair again?”

Liuhuo puffed a small cloud of smoke in response.

Feng Yu frowned at the interaction but said nothing.

Mei Chen suppressed a smile as she returned Liuhuo to the other girl’s shoulder. It wouldn’t do to make the princess jealous because of the silly serpent’s affections for everyone but its master.

As they entered the main hall leading to the study building, she noticed the stares and whispers following them. Students huddled together, pointing and murmuring behind cupped hands.

Feng Yu’s jaw tightened. “Can people not find something better to do than gossip?”

“Is everything alright?” Mei Chen asked quietly.

Feng Yu shrugged. “Well, it could be worse, but it seems to be normal for now.”

Mei Chen frowned at the vague response. She considered asking if Feng Yu had received any messages for Xiulan but stopped herself. That path led to dangerous territory for her spirit stability.

“We should hurry,” Mei Chen said instead. “Elder Zhou hates tardiness.”

At the center of the hall, a cluster of outer disciples gathered large enough to nearly block the path. They formed a wide circle, voices rising in excitement as they jostled for better views.

“Something’s happening over there,” she said, pointing toward the commotion.

Feng Yu narrowed her amber eyes and sighed. “This isn’t the place for a duel.”

Ren Chun’s distinctive voice carried over the noise, confident and theatrical. Mei Chen felt a knot of worry form in her stomach. Again?

Feng Yu pushed forward through the crowd and Mei Chen followed close behind. When they reached the inner circle, they both halted.

This wasn’t a weapon duel at all. Ren Chun and another student stood facing each other, paintbrushes in hand. Between them floated a large sheet of rice paper suspended by qi.

The other student—a tall boy with sharp features—raised his brush with practiced elegance. “A mountain does not fear the wind, for it is the wind that gives it strength.” He inscribed the characters with fluid strokes, each one precise and controlled.

The male students erupted in applause, nodding appreciatively at the technical skill.

Ren Chun coughed dramatically and twirled his brush. “The peach blossom knows many admirers, but opens only for the right hand.” His calligraphy danced across the paper, each character flowing into elaborate decorations of flowers and vines.

Female students squealed and cheered, several of them blushing.

Feng Yu slapped her palm against her forehead and groaned. Mei Chen wanted to sink into the floor as heat threatened to rise in her cheeks. The embarrassment only worsened when Ren Chun spotted them at the edge of the circle.

“Princess!” Ren Chun called out with a broad grin. “Perfect timing! Judge our contest—who has more talent?”

The other student started to protest. “You can’t just recruit random—”

“I had no idea,” Feng Yu cut in coldly, “that all your talent for swordplay left no room for anything else, Ren Chun.”

The crowd erupted in laughter and whispers. Ren Chun clutched his chest in mock injury.

The gathering suddenly parted like water around a stone. Senior Brother Liu strode through, his face set in a disapproving glower. His gaze swept from Ren Chun to Feng Yu.

“Are you two at the center of another disturbance?” he demanded, voice cutting through the remaining chatter.

Mei Chen groaned inwardly.