Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

The strongest bonds are forged in moments of shared suffering. When we choose to bear another’s pain, we create connections that transcend mere friendship or loyalty.

—Master Yan Hui, Teacher of Common Wisdom

Xiulan closed her eyes, picturing Mei Chen’s qi as a frozen lake beneath her touch. The spiritual energy pulsed and swirled, vast and dangerous in its intensity.

A sudden warmth threaded into her. The yang qi flowed from outside, moving through her dantian in steady waves before cycling back out. The sensation differed from anything she’d experienced in cultivation before.

Would this external energy replenish me if I depleted my reserves?

The strength of the flow surpassed any qi exchange she’d attempted. With this much power at her disposal, perhaps...

Mei Chen, I’ll save you now.

She established the connection. Mei Chen’s frozen qi rushed into her meridians like an arctic river breaking through spring ice. She guided the torrent along her spiritual pathway before directing it back through Mei Chen’s wrist.

The flow stuttered and stalled. Panic seized Xiulan’s chest.

Mei Chen?

Spiritual pressure built rapidly to become a dam about to burst. The blocked energy rampaged out of her main meridians and into her outer ones, seeking any possible relief.

Xiulan gripped the stagnant qi flow and pushed it toward Mei Chen’s meridian with desperate force. Was this why Master Qingfeng couldn’t perform the exchange himself? Had they waited too long?

Mei Chen? Mei Chen!

Without warning the energy pierced through the blockage like a needle through silk. Cold burned through Xiulan’s core as she guided the restored flow toward Mei Chen’s next meridian.

Xiulanxiulanxiulanxiulan!

The wail slammed into her mind with frenzied force, scattering her concentration. Raw emotion poured through their connection—terror, confusion, betrayal.

Mei Chen? Xiulan projected the thought.

A tsunami of panic crashed against her mental barriers. Mei Chen’s spiritual presence radiated pure fear, her thoughts fragmenting into desperate pleas.

"I’m here now, Mei Chen. I’m here to help you." Xiulan pushed reassurance through their connection.

No, you can’t be here! No, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t! It’s terrible—I don’t want you to suffer too!

The mental cry squeezed Xiulan’s heart, but it also solidified her earlier determination. Like putting up boards against a window threatened by a storm.

She would do this. There was no question!

Mei Chen!

She focused on threading her qi. The task proved nearly impossible—Mei Chen’s qi had spread into a vast, stagnant lake with nowhere to flow. Every meridian brimmed with excess energy, leaving no channels for movement.

Worse, it didn’t want to move. It wanted to harden into something else. Something frozen.

Xiulan exhaled sharply, releasing the frigid energy before it could overwhelm her own system. Fresh warmth from Qingfeng and Feng Yu’s array flowed in to replace what she expelled, steadying her against the crushing tide of Mei Chen’s uncontrolled qi.

The benefit of the Golden Meridian Opening Pill showed itself again as the paths she had to take were straightforward. From one major meridian to the next, leading to the dantian. She plunged deeper into the network until she located Mei Chen’s dantian.

A perfect sphere of ice greeted her spiritual probe. Xiulan stabbed forward with a concentrated thread of qi, but it deflected off the frozen surface. She tried again and again, each attempt bouncing away from the crystalline barrier.

The surge of yin energy intensified, flooding into Xiulan’s system with crushing force. She exhaled rapidly, expelling the excess cold in quick bursts. The yang array struggled to replenish her reserves, warmth trickling in too slowly to match the overwhelming flow of yin.

Mei Chen... please let me in. Let me help you.

A piercing shriek split the air. Xiulan’s eyes snapped open to find Mei Chen bolt upright on the table. The young maid’s face shone ghost-white, features twisted into a mask of pure rage. She launched forward to attack.

Xiulan caught Mei Chen in her lap, wrapping her arms around the thrashing form. Sharp teeth sank into the side of her neck. Hot blood flowed down her shoulder as Mei Chen latched onto the wound, drinking deeply.

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The qi thread wavered in Xiulan’s grasp.

"Xiulan!" Feng Yu shouted from somewhere behind her.

"It’s all right." Xiulan choked out as she tightened her embrace around Mei Chen. "I’ll take care of you. I promise."

She drove the qi thread forward once more. This time it pierced through, plunging deep into the frozen dantian. Cracks spider-webbed through the ice as yang energy swirled into the pure yin core. The frozen sphere finally shattered, transforming into a pulsing vortex of balanced power.

There was no time for relief. She needed to complete the loop. She guided the qi thread toward the final meridian, muscles trembling from the strain. Mei Chen’s teeth remained locked onto her neck, drawing deep pulls of blood. Each swallow sent waves of yin energy flooding back through the wound, strangling the qi flow.

Xiluan’s fifth major meridian throbbed, damage spreading through the spiritual pathway. She diverted her qi through smaller nodes, desperate to maintain the connection despite the choking pressure. The massive pool of yin energy built into a tumor with each breath.

Just one more connection.

She latched onto the spiritual cord with iron determination and pressed it home. The thread flared brilliant white, spiritual energy surging through the established path. Qi rushed into Mei Chen in a torrent, following the natural flow they’d reconstructed.

Arctic cold ripped through Xiulan worse than before. She exhaled streams of pure yin energy, but more flooded in to replace it just as fast.

The rhythm matched her cultivation exercises, but the stakes felt infinitely higher. Ice crystals formed around them, suspended in the air.

The crushing pressure threatened to tear her apart. The yang-infused bracelets burned against her wrists, their power barely noticeable against the overwhelming tide of yin. The steady stream from the array that had seemed so potent before now felt like drops in an ocean.

I’m dying. The thought crystallized as ice spread through her chest. The yin energy consumed everything, drowning out the warmth that had sustained her.

Her heartbeat slowed to deep, thundering pulses that echoed through her frozen meridians.

The world blurred into streaks of white and shadow. Shapes lost definition, merging into a frost-covered haze. Only the steady pattern of breathing anchored her to consciousness.

"Xiulan?"

The voice cut through the fog. She blinked, forcing her vision to focus. Mei Chen stared back at her with pale-blue eyes wide in terror. Fresh blood painted the young maid’s mouth crimson, a stark contrast against skin as pale as new snow. Her gaze fixed on the wound she’d made.

Xiulan tightened her grip around Mei Chen’s shoulders. "It’s alright. Just hold on. It’s working."

Xiulan, I’m scared. The thought echoed through their spiritual connection, raw with panic.

Without Mei Chen drinking from the wound, Xiulan found breathing easier. She maintained the steady rhythm—exhaling ice, inhaling warmth. The yin energy diminished with each cycle, draining away like water through countless newly-opened channels.

Mei Chen’s dantian pulsed in time with her breathing. Fresh yang energy sparked within the spiritual core, growing stronger with each beat. The balance shifted gradually but steadily.

It’s enough. Xiulan focused on the growing warmth. It has to be enough.

Mei Chen’s tongue darted across the wound on Xiulan’s neck. It stung but the bleeding stopped. Her sobs vibrated against Xiulan’s skin, each breath punctuated by a shuddering gasp.

Xiulan rubbed gentle circles on Mei Chen’s back. The qi flow shifted at the damaged meridian, unclogging like a frozen stream in spring. Spiritual energy rushed through the cleared pathway, no longer threatening to burst.

Xiulan hooked her chin over Mei Chen’s shoulder. Their breathing synchronized—inhale, exhale, a steady rhythm that guided the healing process.

Exhaustion pulled, but she maintained focus. Everything slowly became easier as the unbalance shifted.

The burning cold vanished so suddenly that Xiulan blinked in surprise. She’d lost herself in their shared breathing, in the careful balance of energies between them. Yang energy began to pool where yin had dominated.

"That’s enough." Master Qingfeng’s voice cut through the room and the array’s power ceased.

Xiulan pulled back to examine Mei Chen. A healthy flush had replaced her ghostly pallor. Her chest rose and fell in steady, natural breaths.

The spiritual connection dissolved. Mei Chen shuddered.

"Mei Chen?"

Strong arms crushed Xiulan in an embrace that forced air from her lungs. "Careful—you might break me."

Mei Chen released her grip and pulled back. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with dried blood.

"It’s okay." Xiulan dabbed at the crimson stains with her sleeve, wiping away the evidence of their ordeal.

"Is she okay now?" Feng Yu stepped closer, her amber eyes filled with concern.

Mei Chen’s head snapped up. A feral hiss erupted from her throat as she pushed against Xiulan’s shoulders, rising to glare at Feng Yu. A second hostile hiss ripped through the air, echoing off the chamber walls.

Feng Yu stopped mid-step. Master Qingfeng sprang to his feet. "Be careful."

Xiulan grabbed Mei Chen’s waist and yanked her back down. The young maid landed in her lap with a surprised yelp, eyes widening in shock.

"Mei Chen, don’t hiss at people." Xiulan kept her grip firm but gentle. "This is Feng Yu—she helped save you."

Mei Chen stared at Xiulan, mouth working soundlessly for a moment. "Xiulan xiulan xiulan xiulan!" The words tumbled out in a desperate rush.

"Yes, it’s me." Xiulan patted her back, feeling the tension drain from Mei Chen’s muscles.

Mei Chen seized fistfuls of Xiulan’s robe and buried her face against her chest. Hot tears soaked through the fabric as deep sobs wracked her small frame.

Xiulan stroked Mei Chen’s hair, letting her fingers glide through the dark strands. Each gentle touch seemed to release a little more of her friend’s distress.