Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator

Physical forms are merely vessels for the spirit. In times of great need, the spirit may transcend its mortal shell, seeking new ways to protect what it holds dear.

—Sage Master Liu Yue, Walker of the Midnight Path

Xiulan charged across the battlefield toward the exposed spirit beast summoner and poison master. Her boots pounded against the sundered earth.

Both cultivators snapped their attention toward her approach before she crossed half the space between them.

The poison master’s hands wove through the air. A noxious green cloud expanded outward, filling the space between them. The beast summoner’s fingers twisted into claws. Ghostly swine manifested and bounded into the venomous fog. The ethereal beasts absorbed the deadly miasma before exhaling it in focused jets of lethal vapor in her Xiulan’s direction.

She was ready for something like that.

Severing Light blazed with Mei Chen’s ethereal frost as Xiulan swept the weapon in a wide arc. The blade carved through the air, trailing ribbons of yin and water qi that coalesced into a massive crescent. The pressurized energy wave slammed into the poisonous cloud, dispersing it backward. The spirit beasts dissolved on contact, their essence scattered by the overwhelming force.

The crescent continued its path, crashing into both cultivators. The impact launched them toward the city wall with bone-jarring force. Before they could recover, flaming arrows rained from above in deadly streams. The two cultivators scrambled to flee from the onslaught, abandoning their position.

Xiulan lunged forward to pursue the fleeing cultivators but a sickening hiss filled the air above her head. Droplets of burning crimson liquid rained down, each drop sizzling with corrosive poison.

Xiulan be careful!

Blue-tinged mist materialized above her, spreading into a protective dome. The acidic blood droplets crystallized mid-air, suspended in the ethereal barrier Mei Chen created. The nauseating stench of toxic qi burned Xiulan’s nose.

Above the battlefield, Ming Lihua advanced on her opponents. Her fingers danced through the air, scattering paper talismans that spun into intricate geometric patterns. The arrays pulsed with power, launching volleys of multicolored energy bolts at the blood qi user and his companion.

Rather than continue their clash, the enemy cultivators dove toward their allies below. They extracted their two compatriots from their deadlock with the Li brothers before retreating across the battlefield.

Xiulan’s breath came in heavy pants as she watched the enemy forces fall back. The distinctive whistle of siege weapons drew her attention skyward. A barrage of flaming projectiles arced through the air toward Blackmere’s walls.

She blinked in surprise—the artillery assault had continued unnoticed throughout. The tribulation storm above the Treasure Pavilion’s pagoda had dissipated at some point during the chaos.

A sharp pain lanced through her left side. She pressed her hand against the throbbing wound where the explosive bombs had thrown her away from the assassin. Blood seeped between her fingers.

Xiulan limped back to Mei Chen’s motionless form. The weight of her friend’s body settled across her shoulders as she lifted her. Each step sent fresh waves of pain through her injured side while she rejoined the other defenders.

Hundreds of city soldiers lay scattered across the wall—their bodies broken and bloodied by the spirit beast attack. The cultivator defenders remained standing, but exhaustion etched deep lines in their faces. Wei Kang nursed a bleeding arm while Liu Shui pressed a cloth against a gash on his forehead. Even Zhang Huo’s usual energetic demeanor had dimmed to weary alertness.

Ming Lihua stood atop the gate, her purple robes whipping in the wind as she scanned the battlefield.

"I’m so sorry about Mei Chen." Wei Kang bowed his head. "She fought bravely."

The other defenders murmured similar condolences until ethereal blue mist streamed from Severing Light. The essence spiraled up Xiulan’s arm like a serpent, coalescing into a glowing orb that slid along her neck. The spirit finally settled atop Xiulan’s head like a crown.

I’m not dead! Mei Chen’s thoughts echoed out into the night air.

The gathered cultivators stared wide-eyed at the manifested spirit. Their weapons raised then dropped as confusion reigned.

"The low level spirit cultivator transcended mortality?" Liu Shui asked.

"Her body entered suspended animation and requires repairs." Xiulan maintained a steady tone despite the absurdity. "Her spirit separated temporarily during the process."

The defenders exchanged uncertain glances but nodded slowly, accepting the explanation despite their obvious bewilderment.

Xiulan suppressed a smile. The truth about Mei Chen—a protective wrathful spirit with an adorable personality—seemed far more difficult to explain.

Flaming projectiles continued to arc through the smoke-filled sky, but their frequency diminished with each volley. The impacts against Blackmere’s streets grew sporadic as exhaustion set in on both sides. Through the haze, Xiulan watched the enemy front line withdraw beyond the light of the burning line of wooden screens.

Xiulan pressed her hand against her side and exhaled. The night’s chaos had blurred together—how long had they fought? An hour? Two? The passage of time had lost meaning.

Wei Kang distributed spirit stones among the defending cultivators. The crystalline fragments pulsed with stored qi as each defender activated whatever healing techniques they had. Mortal medical teams darted between injured soldiers, administering healing pills to those who survived the battle.

Xiulan retrieved one of Jin Wei’s pills from her robe and swallowed it. Cool relief spread through her wounded side as the medicine took effect. She clutched a spirit stone in her palm, channeling its stored energy to accelerate her recovery.

Mei Chen swirled in response, merging with the healing qi. The combined energies knit flesh and cleared blood stains, leaving only torn fabric as evidence of injury.

Miss, you need clean robes.

"You need stitches and a new robe entirely..." Xiulan stared at Mei Chen’s physical form slumped against the wall. Worry gnawed at her thoughts. Would it be possible to restore Mei Chen’s spirit to her body?

Ming Lihua descended from her position atop the gate, her purple robes rippling in the smoke-laden breeze. She studied the ethereal orb circling Xiulan’s head with narrowed eyes.

"The safety seal didn’t even last a week." Ming shook her head. "Master Qingfeng won’t be pleased."

Xiulan frowned at the senior merchandiser. "She faced violent combat without reacting wrathfully. That counts for something."

"Her qi density exceeds anyone else in the city right now." Ming’s fingers traced patterns in the air. "But if that energy drains, she’ll lose control and turn violent."

The glowing sphere rolled playfully along Xiulan’s head. Ming reached out and poked her fingers into the ethereal mass.

Oh! Mei Chen’s surprised thoughts echoed. The orb tumbled down Ming’s arm in a spiral before bouncing off and returning to orbit around Xiulan.

Ming exhaled sharply. "I don’t think anyone truly understands what Mei Chen is."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"What about her physical form?" Xiulan glanced at the motionless body propped against the wall.

"The corpse remains sterile without decay." Ming studied the preserved flesh. "She must have unconsciously done something to maintain it."

I can’t comb Miss’s hair like this. Mei Chen’s thoughts carried a distinct pout. I need it.

"Can you repair the damage and return to your body?" Xiulan watched the ethereal orb bob in the air.

The Mei Chen drifted downward, hovering over her corpse before streaming through her own parted lips. Color flooded back into Mei Chen’s pale skin turning it from powder white to simply deathly pale. Her eyes snapped open, reflecting an unnatural slate-blue glow in the darkness.

Mei Chen clutched at her throat where the spearman’s blade had carved through flesh and bone. Her fingers trembled against the wound as she pressed against her torn chest. "Miss... it hurts... it hurts a lot..."

Each labored breath sent fresh spasms of pain across Mei Chen’s face. The wounds pulsed with a sickly red light where corrupted qi lingered in the damaged tissue.

Ming Lihua knelt beside Mei Chen and pressed her palm against the gaping neck wound. Purple light flared beneath her fingers as she channeled qi into the injury. Mei Chen’s eyes rolled back and she slumped unconscious against the wall.

"What!" Xiulan lurched forward.

"Calm down." Ming maintained steady pressure on the wound. "She’s just unconscious—or rather her body is? I’m not certain of the distinction anymore."

She frowned at the unconscious girl. "But we must do something to help or she won’t be able to remain in this form. And if she can’t maintain a physical anchor..." Ming’s expression darkened. "Her spiritual energy will likely burn out without something to tether it."

Xiulan stared at Mei Chen’s unconscious form. The game had never prepared her for this. Beast pets could cultivate and be sapient, but Mei Chen was not one of those, either! Sure, there were spirit weapons and sentient artifacts at the highest levels of cultivation, but wrathful spirits? How were those related at all?

They existed purely as enemies to defeat for cultivation points and reputation gains. Her thoughts scattered as boots pounded against stone.

A messenger sprinted toward them, chest heaving with exertion. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead as he skidded to a stop.

"Report!" The messenger doubled over, gasping for breath. "Enemy force—broke through the north! Fairy Yang Mei took severe injuries!"

"Damn it." Xiulan clenched her fists. The enemy had outmaneuvered them while they focused on the frontal assault. "Numbers?"

"Ten, maybe twelve cultivators." The messenger straightened. "Plus a thousand troops. Wu Yan and Yang Mei eliminated the soldiers, but the cultivators pushed through."

Xiulan turned toward the enemy siege line stretching across the horizon. Flames still dotted the battlefield where their earlier clashes had scorched the earth. Now she and the other defenders stood trapped here, preparing for another wave of attacks. How many more cultivators did House Chao hold in reserve? The uncertainty gnawed at her thoughts as she calculated their dwindling options.

Something didn’t add up. If they’d committed another ten cultivators to the frontal assault, her defenders would have crumbled. Instead, the enemy had divided their strength to attack the Lin Manor.

The realization hit her like ice water. The manor housed every official document and record that legitimized control over Blackmere County. Whoever held those papers would be able to forge legal authority. Lord Chao didn’t want her dead as much as he wanted control.

Then… was he expecting more forces to show up, and grant him legitimacy?

Had she and her mother expected House Min to help them, when they might side with Lord Chao? Were family ties not enough?

They weren’t enough to stop me from killing father and my sisters.

Smoke billowed up from burning buildings throughout the city. The acrid scent stung her nose as shouts echoed from the northern quarter. The city held the people. Protecting them was a duty she couldn’t just abandon. If they went after the flanking force, the city would be naked.

Her gaze dropped to Mei Chen’s unconscious form. If Ming was right, Mei helping fight was burning away not just her qi but her life force too. Life force that couldn’t be restored without an anchor. If Mei Chen burned out completely trying to protect her...

Ming helped Xiulan stand, steadying her with a firm grip. Xiulan scooped up Mei Chen’s limp form, adjusting the weight in her arms. The girl’s skin felt cold—too cold for comfort. They hurried through Blackmere’s smoke-filled streets toward the Treasure Pavilion’s familiar gates.

Brother Mo and Long blocked their path at the entrance, weapons crossed. The polished metal of their spears gleamed in the torchlight.

"Master Qingfeng ordered no entry." Long planted his feet. "For anyone."

Mo bowed slightly to Ming. "That includes you, Senior. He specifically mentioned reminding you about—" Mo cleared his throat "—the thin line you chose to walk."

Xiulan studied Ming’s face. The senior appraiser’s neutral expression cracked for a moment, revealing something deeper. So helping them hadn’t been Qingfeng’s order at all—Ming had chosen this path herself.

"We’ll use the headquarters." Ming gestured down a side street. "I can treat her there with whatever supplies we gather."

A sharp cough drew their attention. Brother Long thrust a cloth bag into Ming’s hands, turning his head to stare fixedly at the wall. "Found these rolling around. Trash, obviously. Need disposing of."

"Haa..." Xiulan’s lips curved upward. "I wonder that some person’s trash might be another’s treasure. Who could have such foresight?"

Xiulan shifted Mei Chen’s weight as she followed Ming. Chunks of stone and splintered wood littered the cobblestones. The air reeked of smoke and ash, but the screams had subsided to sporadic shouts from fire crews.

Teams of citizens hauled water buckets in organized lines, dousing flames that still licked at damaged buildings. Others dug through debris, calling out whenever they found survivors. The preparations had paid off—most civilians had evacuated to the shelters of sturdy buildings on the city’s eastern side before the assault began.

A group of soldiers cleared fallen timbers from a major intersection. Their faces streaked with soot but determined as they worked. Nearby, medics tended to the wounded in a makeshift aid station. The injuries looked painful but survivable.

Ming led them through the winding streets toward the military headquarters. The former city manor’s walls bore scorch marks, but the new structure remained intact. Two guards saluted as they approached the entrance.

Xiulan followed the path to her quarters, each step jostling Mei Chen’s limp form. The room had improved in the short time they had been away. Her personal effects from the Treasure Pavilion filled the space—scrolls stacked neatly on the desk, spare robes hung in a wardrobe, and her dressing table from the guest room was laid out properly.

Really? The officer had kept his promise despite the chaos. That was dutiful but also…

Didn’t he have better things to do while the city was being set alight?

Still, she couldn’t complain. She set Mei Chen down gently on the bed while Ming emptied Brother Long’s cloth bag onto the desk.

Bandages, spirit-infused needles, brown colored pills, and healing salves tumbled out—standard cultivator medical supplies. Ming sorted through them with steady fingers. The needles and some silver thread were the first choice.

Xiulan patted Mei Chen’s hand. The girl’s skin felt like ice beneath her touch. The savage wounds across her throat and chest gaped open, edges ragged where the enemy’s blade had torn through. The dead flesh didn’t ooze or bleed at all, and it made for an unsettling feeling of handling raw meat…

Ming Lihua threaded the spirit-infused needle. The metal gleamed with an otherworldly sheen as she began stitching the wounds closed. Each precise movement drew the torn flesh together.

Ming pulled a weathered paper talisman and a spirit stone from her sleeve. Ancient characters covered its surface in precise brushstrokes that seemed to shift and dance in the lamplight.

Was she able to make the spirit stone heal the body? Xiulan’s eyes narrowed. Her earlier attempt had failed so this was important if Ming made it work. "What kind of talisman is that?" Xiulan leaned closer to study it.

"Object repair charm." Ming pressed the talisman against Mei Chen’s chest. "Used for mending damaged items."

"Object repair..." Xiulan stared at Mei Chen’s corpse. The implications clicked into place with grim clarity.

Ming frowned then clapped her hands and then massaged Mei’s chest and then throat until a glowing orb came out. Mei Chen.

Xiulan! The thought rang out brightly and the orb flowed away Ming to spin around Xiulan’s head.

"Repair won’t work while she’s in there, so just keep her close for a few minutes," Ming said.

Xiulan reached out and Mei settled into her palms, pulsing with warmth and acceptance. It made a gruesome sort of sense. Mei Chen’s body was a thing, not Mei Chen herself anymore.

The spirit stone in Ming’s hand dimmed as the energy flowed into the talisman and then Mei Chen’s body.