BOC AU: Elder, But Younger Sister 7: Swords

“Here, and here.” Qingyi said, her hands on my arms. She moved them into place, and I let her guide me, her foot sliding out against mine and nudging it just a bit. “With the wrist, adjust upward. Your frame is large, so the center of balance will change to here. Do you feel that?”

“Yes.” I replied. I felt the change, despite the minute nature of it. As a cultivator my body was more in tune with itself, and the adjustment did feel better. I felt far, far more stable.

“Good. Now, breathe. Breath, and begin the strike. Together. First form. From the top, swing down to waist level. Strike.” She instructed. We raised our wooden swords together, and then, slowly, we brought them down, stepping into the attack.

Qingyi’s eyes were fixed upon my body the entire time, studying each and every movement I made. “Your foot landed too flat; it must be a gentle step, ready to change direction. Reset.” She commanded. I moved back into position. She walked around me, inspecting my form, and found it satisfactory, before returning to her position at my side. “Again. Strike.” 

I did so, bringing the sword up and back down, trying to get a feel for how it was supposed to move. I made sure to not land so heavily; I was used to more rooted stances, taking advantage of my size; I was very tall for this time period; head and shoulders above most people. Hells, I had even recently gotten the same size as Pops, and he was the same way, towering over basically everybody else. I guessed he was around six feet tall; and I wasn’t quite done growing yet.

“Reset. Strike.” Qingyi commanded again, and I followed her lead without complaint.

The training was honestly better than I expected. Qingyi, despite my first fears, didn’t take the opportunity to fuck with me. I thought she had been about to go all drill sergeant nasty on me. 

I had been absolutely and categorically wrong. We had started out by making the gesture of respect and bowing to each other… along with Qingyi swearing to do all in her power to aid me.

 Both Pops and Qingyi were taking my education in this matter very seriously—and Qingyi was a surprisingly good teacher.

There was no stumbling from her at all, it felt practised. Like she had already devoted time to cooking up an entire curriculum, and was now imparting it to me. 

It was good enough that Pops had eventually decided to leave this to her and was just watching on, occasionally nodding when Qingyi said something. He was drinking tea, but his focus on us was total, and he had not moved to do anything else but observe us.

We spent the entire morning on the first, most basic moves, and putting my Qi into each movement. It was hot, tedious, and sweaty work. I had no idea how good or bad I was doing—but there was no scolding at all. There were merely gentle but firm corrections, along with why she was correcting me, how this would eventually lead into other sword strikes. If she was so serious in teaching me, it would have been rude to not give it my all back.

The hours pressed on; I strumbled through the first combined form, five strikes. I finally let my sword droop, breathing deeply for a few moments, before I turned to my sister.

“Thank you for your guidance.” I said, clasping my fist in my palm. Qingyi beamed and practically skipped forward to pat my head, her chest puffed out.

“You did well!” she praised. I slowly stood up, until she was standing on her tip toes to keep patting. 

“You just saying that? Or did I actually do alright?” I asked. She pouted. 

“You are no prodigy.” Pops said bluntly. “But neither was your performance lacking in any way. She is correct in her assessment that you did well, especially with the delay in teaching you the blade.”

I appreciated the bluntness, and it matched my own expectations. The Sword felt a bit weird in my hands, but not really all that bad. Qinyi gave the old man a bit of a glare.

“Before the lesson is completely over though… can you show me how it looks strung together?” I asked her.

Qiongyi perked up.

“It's been three years since I've done this, so please forgive my lack of practise.” she said, her voice full of apology.

And then she moved. My jaw dropped. 

I knew what art was. When the old man brought out his calligraphy set and really tried, it was mesmerizing. The surety in his movements, the absolute confidence in every motion, producing something wondrous.

Each movement was utter perfection, utter art. She flowed. It was one thing to be told what a form did, it was another to see it all strung together to strike an imaginary opponent. I could see where the movements covered openings, how they hit angles that would be awkward to guard against.

This, more than anything else, really showed me just how skilled Qingyi was.

She seemed satisfied with her performance, but when she turned and saw me catching flies she paused. All of a sudden she looked just a bit uncomfortable.

“That was amazing.” I said with admiration. The hesitation in Qingyi’s eyes faded, and changed to something that looked almost hopeful. “Thats how far you can push it? That's how good someone can be?”

“Our Qingyi’s skill with the blade has always been something extraordinary.” Pops said, his voice filled with pride. “And yet she never stops training; Even when she comprehends a strike in the first instant, she still practises it ten thousand times.”

I whistled. Damn. talent and hard work eh? She had both of it.

“And you, Jin. I can see the inspiration she inspired by showing you the completed form.” Pops continued.

“Of course, who could look at that and not be inspired?” I asked incredulously. If I got even half that good, it would be a miracle, and something to be proud of.

“Many, on seeing how far they have to go.” Pops said easily.

“Skill issue.” I shot back immediately. Pops gaped, and then barked out a laugh.

“Skill issue?” he asked, sounding very amused.

“Yeah. You said cultivators face the heavens alone, right? That means that all the glory is your fault.. And everything else is too. So get good. Somebody is better than you, boo hoo. Suck it up. Work harder.” I said. When you’re not smart, and you’re not skilled, that's the only thing you can do. Work hard, and steal other people’s good ideas like a motherfucker.

“And what if you can never reach her?” Pops said, gesturing to Qingyi. I could tell he was trying to get at something. She almost flinched when I turned to her. They had told me about Bu, but hadn’t gone into too many specifics about him. All I knew was that he was a cunt. And if he had been pissed off at his little sister because she was better at something than him?

What a loser.

“Then I never reach her,” I said with a shrug. “And that's fine. She's my sister. She's family now. That means when she becomes the best swordsmaster in the world…. I get to brag.”

I meant it. I had only known Qingyi for a couple of days, but I already liked her. She was fun to tease, gave as good as she got, and was absolutely trying to make this whole family thing work. I had had an older sister in the Before. It was how I was so good at winding Qingyi up… but I had meant what I said. Family… it was for helping each other. Not for competing. 

What greater joy was there, than sharing in your family’s triumphs?

The old man smiled. Qingyi looked.. Young, for a moment. Like she was a kid, who had just heard something that they had wanted to hear for a while.

“Mm! That is indeed the case, little brother! You can brag about your Elder Sister all you like!” she said, puffing out her chest. “Now go, sit down and be inspired! Father, I need some pointers! I'm still unused to this body!”

“Of course.” Pops rumbled. “Watch us well, my son.”

“You got it. I’ll be sure to shamelessly steal all your techniques.” I said, wandering over to sit down, while Pops rose to his feet. He passed me, and his hand landed on my shoulder. There was a weight to it, as he gave me an approving, fatherly squeeze.

I sat back and watched them both go at it. Two artists, painting a masterpiece. Man, it was so cool.

But soon enough, Qingyi hit her limit. She and Pops bowed to each other, and my panting sister staggered over to collapse beside me, slumping onto my shoulder.

Pops sat down with us as well. I passed them both some tea… and we just sat together in the small courtyard, watching the clouds go by.

The silence was comfortable. 

After a while, Qingyi turned to me.

“Teach me medical techniques?” she asked.

“Of course.” I replied.

She beamed at me. 

My time in this new place had been strange… but not bad. I guess that was just life. Strange. A smile came to my own face.

“That's life, that's life; That's the truth and these are the stakes.” I started. Qingyi perked up, while Pops just started humming along. Translating this song had been a lot of work, especially changing the month names to the animal ones whey used here… but I was quite proud of this one.

“Flying high in the Dragon, then slithering in the Snake~

But you can be sure I'll fix my course—

When I mount back up, mount back up in the Horse~”

I did change the ending though. It was kind of a downer.

=====================

It was a really fun time. Pops sung a few songs he knew, while Qingyi only really knew one song—an old opera song called the Divine Damsel of Devastation. And damn she could belt it. She knew the dance too, because the actors used swords in the performance.

After that, we all went for a walk together, strolling the streets of the Crucible. We grabbed some sweets from a market stall. I had a five minute chat to touch base with the clinic, who didn’t need me today. Pops put in an order for a bunch more practise swords—apperently when I started infusing an actual blade with Qi, there was a risk of breaking them. We made plans to see the actual production of the Divine Damsel of Devastation, which was playing in the Grand Thearter—Pops splurged for box seats. We grabbed some peaches from a market stall, and had a rousing discussion on tea.

“He likes putting sugar and fruit in it.” Pops teased. “And drinks it cold!”

“Brother!” Qingyi gasped, playing up that she was scandalized, but she was leaning over with a teasing grin on her face as we walked. “Tea is a hot drink! You’ll disrupt your Qi if you drink it cold!”

“Don’t pull that on me old fart, you drank half my pitcher last time!” I shot back, glaring. My berry iced tea! It was gone from the world too fast! “You’re gonna love it, guaranteed! After we’re all hot from training, a cold, refreshing drink! You’ll want nothing else!”

“Oh, I don't know, cold tea~?” Her tongue stuck out.

It was a good time. We bantered back and forth, and even while I was making dinner—when suddenly Pops shot to his feet, a fierce grin on his face.

His Qi flared—and then all of a sudden, our house was eclipsed by a sword.

A man leapt down from it, landing in our courtyard. He looked like a master, with his immaculate topknot and beard. His eyes were intense as he looked at us.

“Brother!” Pops shouted.

“Uncle Ge?!” Qingyi shouted, her voice full of unbridled joy.

The man’s face broke into a wide grin, his eyes soft, with small tears in the corners of them.

“Qingyi.” he breathed. “Neice. You really are…” he trailed off as Qinyi raced toward him, her arms open. He caught her, and embraced her tightly.

“Uncle. It's so good to see you again!” she practically sobbed.

I turned back to the stove, and kept cooking, giving them their moment. They would definitely need food to catch up.

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The song Jin sang was Thats Life, again by Sinatra