'...practiced one kick 10,000 times.'

Less than a minor kè later Chún balanced on his heels, his body weight suspended between his core and his thighs in the lowered stance of Quiet Standing with Lady Bingqiǎo slowly circling around him, her body language somehow conveying a much more predatory language than Chún would expect from a tortoise. He supposed this was her warrior/snake aspect coming to the fore rather more than the tortoise/scholar.

She had not made a sound since she had instructed him to stand in the center of a large martial training hall, merely stalking around him purposefully, her gaze focused on him the entire time.

Doing his best to ignore the distraction, he let his thighs and calves soak up a little more of his weight, 'sitting' more solidly into position as he let his gaze wander around the hall as much as he could by only using his eyes and Essence Sense.

Unlike the two other parts of the North Guardian's palace he had seen so far - the Guǎn was neither titanic in construction or traditional and darkly formal. Well - perhaps it was traditional for a martial training hall - never having been in one before, he would not know.

The guǎn was a wide, open space with a ceiling that rose a zhàng above his head. Oddly enough, the ceiling was a thin lattice of wood that allowed a gentle morning crow-light through along with a comfortable temperature.

Obviously, the light was not coming from the actual Golden Crow - he knew that he had been in the Palace of Dark Heavens less than a major kè - but other than wondering why the Lady thought natural light important enough to practicing Martial Dao that she evidently specifically set up some form of Dao Pattern to mimic it, he did not give it much thought.

The hall was paneled in light toned wood on the walls and large, flat, grey stones paving the floor. The stones had a slightly rough surface, ensuring an easy footing.

Weapons racks filled with every sort of weapon Chún had ever seen or heard of and many he had not dotted the walls - some hanging higher, others lower and resting at angles to the floor. Other spaces in the walls were given over to odd looking wooden stands with odd joints and dowels sticking out at suspiciously deliberate locations - if he squinted, Chún thought that they might pass for abstract statues of people - perhaps holding weapons or taking attack poses.

A sharp jab at the inner right heel made his heel twitch very slightly - about a lí - outward, while another jab at his right buttock just above the thigh made him tuck his muscle in fractionally tighter even as something else tapped the outside of his left knee. His body shifted minutely in response before he could consciously register doing so and something unwound like a bowstring that had been strung too tightly and then released. The almost physical sensation of relief that followed seemed to almost draw him even more solidly into Quiet Standing.

"Better. Hold that feeling. Remember it. That is what Quiet Standing is supposed to feel like. It comes from within you, not outside of you."

The voice of his teacher was quiet, but clear. Somehow her words wove effortlessly past the light trance he was falling into without disturbing it.

"All Martial Dao starts here and ends here. Within you. Without a solid foundation, you cannot exert force, you can not shift force, you cannot accept force. All Martial Dao is about force - using it, accepting it, redirecting it. But you must be aware of yourself to stand at its center - or you can do none of those things and the force will overcome you rather than working for you."

Lady Bingqiǎo's voice drifted off even as his vision turned inward, seeing himself as a rock - no, a mountain - in the center of an endless stream of Essence that he used to sustain himself as easily as breathing. It seemed appropriate, given that lately he hardly knew where Chún the True Cultivator, peasant street rat and orphan left off and Tai, his friend, the Mountain, the Planet and a Universe unto themselves left off anymore.

---

Chún came back to awareness slowly, realising he had just received a sharp jolt to his shoulder. The muscles in his thighs, calves, core, buttocks were screaming at him.

"Rest," came the sharp order behind him and he stumbled to the floor as a pair of strong hands caught him and lowered him to a thick mat woven from some form of reeds or grass.

A large mug that smelled strongly of herbs was thrusted into his hands and he drank automatically, suddenly realising he was extremely thirsty and feeling completely spent. Gulping the liquid despite the acrid taste, he felt a refreshing feeling washing away the pain and clearing his head.

"The foolish Tiger never taught - do not sink too deeply into the Quiet?" asked the voice of his new Teacher from behind him, a clear annoyance underlying her usual cool tone.

"It never felt like that before," Chún answered slowly, panting as he tried to gather his scattered wits and trembling limbs, "when you adjusted my stance, it was like everything just - slid into place - I did not have to focus on holding myself; all the other times, I have not been able to get much more than a light level of meditation. And…" Chún hesitated.

The Xuánwǔ made an interested sound, prompting him to continue, "well… my locus usually alerts me if I have been Quiet Standing for too long."

"Not this time?" asked Lady Bingqiǎo stepping around him, squatting down in front of him and peering intentently into his face, gripping his chin with one hand to tilt his head back as she collected the empty mug from his shaking hands, then dropped her grip on his chin to brusquely rearranging his legs and arms into a more natural seating position.

"The link is always muted around you… and the others," he managed to answer as he started to feel slightly more himself, "less so since you have accepted the Guardian's position, but Tai has been silent since I came into your Palace." He shook off the instant spasm of concern that realisation caused, realising why his thoughts felt much more… quieter than usual.

"Hn," the Black Tortoise-Snake lay two cool fingers across his right wrist for a breath, "you have strained your body going so deep for so long, but you are recovering rapidly."

Chún looked around in slight confusion, "it does not seem much time has passed," he observed, looking upward through the open lattice at the light that shone down - it still appeared to be a pleasant, clear morning.

"Lighting here does not change," the Lady informed him tersely, "you were Standing for several Shí. Focus on breathing, I return shortly." She stood up with the cup and left abruptly, leaving him alone once more.

Chún adjusted his seat on the mat slowly until he felt less ruffled. He still felt like a wrung out rag, so it took some time for him to adjust himself into a cross legged lotus - which after such a long time Standing felt less awkward than usual and more like a refreshing stretch - although his legs were the stiffest he could remember them being since he had become a True Cultivator, so it took a while until he felt comfortable. He placed the backs of his hands on his knees and closed his eyes, focusing on breathing deeply and circulating his Essence to relieve the lingering aches and soreness.

A soft step caused him to open his eyes as his Teacher sank like liquid black ink into a mirrored seat on a mat across from him and began speaking without preamble, "You have power; little control. Without Martial Techniques you waste power - attacks are much less effective than they could be."

The Xuánwǔ fell silent for several breaths, her face expressionless as her eyes bore into his face. Chún felt an intangible pressure pressing down on him, but chose to stay silent as he reflected on her observation.

With Tai's constant support seemingly absent, he was not sure if he should say anything - especially as he agreed with the Lady - he tended to hit everything with as much strength as he could. Only having his own human experience to go on as an orphan, he knew that a sharp rock to a joint or eye was often much more effective than punching someone as hard as you could.

How that translated to Martial Techniques, he was not sure. He had noticed a general improvement in has ability to move faster and fight more effectively after he started watching the beasts and how they fought; more so when both Tiger and Dragon had shown him things - but despite his efforts to link them together into a set of techniques that worked for him, it often felt like he was working with pieces stitched together that did not quite feel natural to him as a human.

That did not even begin to address his use of Essence in battle. Being a True Cultivator and connected to a literal Planet meant that control was always more of a issue than Power; the number of times his locus had chided him for channeling excessive amounts of Essence whenever he fought - or even worked on creating Essence Treasures attested to his lack of efficiency. Occasionally, when he had followed Tai's exact instructions, he had managed something that was perfectly in tune with the Dao and he was always amazed at how little the amount of Essence involved mattered to the pattern functioning properly. His usual solution to a problem was to throw a river of power at it - what would happen if he met something with an ocean's worth?

Could the Lady help him with this? He did not know. He found himself reaching for the link with his locus, which seemed to give off a gentle warmth and a muted reassurance when he brushed it, but not the usual sense of being part of a greater whole.

"Good to have, connection to Locus restricted," Lady Bingqiǎo remarked, her eyes having sharpened knowingly as he had reached out, "the learning and understanding will be yours. Someday, you can not rely on the Mountain. Learn to stand alone two feet before then, or become crippled."

Remembering how he had fallen apart when Tai's connection had been suppressed the first time by the Flood Dragon King and his subsequent difficulties the first time he had met each of the other Guardians, Chún subconsciously nodded in agreement. Given everything else that had already happened, it was a good idea not to assume his link to his friend was unbreakable. He had to be able to function alone if necessary.

A part of the young True Cultivator sardonically pointed out that any normal boy of fourteen summers would not even think of things in such a way - Tai's presence had evidently influenced his Cultivation, probably making him smarter - but that did not mean wise, the same sardonic thought pointed out.

"I am very young, Guardian. I know that I need help and that I need to be able to live without always relying on my locus, but," he tried to smile, but it twisted closer to a grimace, "I think, without Tai… I would have died swiftly. I think… I would not have known how to cope with the power that I suddenly had."

He pulled in a breath through a suddenly tight chest, "I think… I might have just run away - if I had not tried to seek revenge on some of the bastards in the village for the death of my mother and all the insults they made me the whipping boy for. Either way - I would have probably died at someone's hands wanting the secret to my power or trying to fight more than I could win. So I understand, my locus is a crutch, but only if I am weak."

He laughed slightly, "even now, being able to speak like this, shows that I am no longer just an ordinary Human Cultivator - I have learnt to think more like my friend - while I think, my locus has begun to think more like a mortal being."

"Awareness is good," agreed his teacher, "this one has observed you. Know what I see?"

Chún inclined his head respectfully, "please enlighten me Teacher."

The young seeming woman seated in front of him made what would have been considered an indelicate snort if she had truly been the icy beauty she appeared as.

"I see, you have begun much but finished little. All eight Essence aspects within you. Smell medicinal vapours on your skin. Shape of snake, tiger and monkey in your movements. Calluses of a warrior, a farmer, a smith and a potter on your hands. Dao Patterns float around you like stars - but only minor workings in scattered areas," she shook her head, "lack of focus! I have seen you fight - barely wield your Heavenly weapon - let alone use your Essence Artifact properly. Essence use in combat - wasteful."

"Teacher, how is my work with farming, ceramics or Essence Flames part of Martial Dao?" Chún asked in confusion.

The Xuánwǔ clicked her tongue, "Your Martial Dao reflects you. You lack focus… try to do too much at once, never finish? Your Martial Dao will reflect this," she sighed slowly and continued, "not entirely your fault. Over millennia of existence, beings like Xuánwǔ or your locus - they have the time to slowly learn and grow proficient in many areas. You have forgotten you not a Mountain. Focus on one field and master it, before you move to the next - especially with Martial Dao."

Chún frowned, "I am not sure that would be possible - there is much to be done - and I am the only True Cultivator… True Cultivation seems to involve many disparate areas working in harmony to create something new."

"So you will only dabble in Martial Dao?" questioned Lady Bingqiǎo, "as you have for the rest? This will not work for Martial Dao."

Chún met her gaze steadily, "It has been less than two months since I was a nameless orphan. I have never dabbled," he stated firmly, "I have not had a proper teacher for anything I have learned. If my abilities seem… scattered, it is because I have been forced to… improvise to solve one crisis after another. If given the opportunity to learn formally, I will place my full focus on the lessons I have been given." He paused, taking a breath to choose his words carefully, "my other responsibilities may require me to focus elsewhere for a time, but I will always return to my studies as soon as possible, until I have mastered them."

The Demi-god quirked her lips as she canted her head in a curiously snake-like movement, "You have a backbone. Good. You will need it." She stood up and clapped a heavy hand to his right shoulder, "Time to train, Student. To your feet." She stepped back, putting a pace between them.

Chún did as instructed, scratching his head as he asked, "How did you know I have been working with medicine, farming, smithing… everything else?"

"The Tiger boasted of the weapon you forged. I sense Essence Flame Seeds in your body, the Dao Patterns in your Essence, steps of three beasts in your movements, the smell of plants, rock and medicine. Xuánwǔ are masters of scholarly studies and magic as well as battle, I would be not be worthy of the name if I could not deduce such things."

She stopped speaking abruptly before snapping her hand in the air like a sword, "no more distractions. I know all that I must teach you - for now. You have a long way to go."

There was an odd twist of Essence in the air and Lady Bingqiǎo's shadow on the surface of the wood behind her suddenly lost its defined shape, writhing like flame that rose up from the floor of the Guǎn into a pillar that matched her approximate size and shape.

A moment later an identical twin of the Northern Guardian stood behind his teacher, down to the silvery headdress and odd, finely scaled, jade white skin.

"This is Yin Clone. With support of the Palace - and drop of Essence Blood - I can act independent of myself, with ten percent strength," Lady Bingqiǎo was suddenly obscured by a dark swirl that resolved into what Chún recognised as the traveling robes and weapons that she usually wore when they met, "I must go and gather my Disciples - I have delayed long enough already to establish my Palace."

She pulled the hood of the robes up, hiding her features, gloved hands pulling up dark cloth, and continuing to speak as she began to walk towards the door, "for your purposes, we are powerful enough that it will make no difference to your training. We know everything each of us learns - we are one and the same." The door shut behind her and Chún was left with his Teacher - still clothed in the almost identical training robe to his - looking steadily at him.

"No breaks from being taught when you need to leave, is what you mean," deduced Chún, shaking off the slight confusion of his Guardian suddenly being in more than one place at a time with slight dismay.

"My personal attention at all times," cooly replied the Lady remaining in the room, as if she had been speaking all along, "now, from beginning," She moved her legs and feet deliberately into what was clearly a very basic martial stance, despite Chún not recognising it, "follow my movements."

---

Chún lost track of time under the unchanging light that filled the Guǎn as he followed along with the movements of his Teacher. It seems that the first basic unarmed form was repeated a thousand times before she declared herself satisfied that he understood it.

"Well, you understand well enough, now use it. Nothing else, just that form," Chún blinked at the sudden pronouncement in surprise, before the shadow behind her shifted and grew upward in a way he recognised. He barely had time to react as the clone was in his personal space attacking with one of the basic movements from the form he had been repeating endlessly. His hands and feet moved without conscious thought and the clone was deflected. His own basic thrust was likewise parried with another movement from the basic form…

…Chún was now defending against three silent clones. Every time he thought he was about to defeat the clone he was fighting, his Teacher's shadow would shift once more and another clone would join the fray. His Teacher would circle the entire time, making commentary - pointing out mis steps and bad timing.

The movements that made up the original basic form were repeated over and over, but to defend against the clones who were constantly combining the basic movements of the form in different ways to attack he had to respond in kind. The original, seemingly basic form, had unfolded like a flower - to reveal that even the simplest form could be an effective means to fight if it remained fluid and changing in its execution.

"Hold. Step back." As Chún responded without thought to the Teacher's instruction, two clones flickered and vanished, the third darting off out of the Guǎn, returning only a moment later with a familiar bitter smelling mug of liquid before vanishing itself. The young teen gulped thirstily, feeling a familiar rush of revitalisation and relaxation.

His teacher strode over to a weapon stand and threw a sword at him. Chún dropped the empty mug as he reflexively caught the weapon, realising a moment later it was actually made of a heavy dark wood, rather than a real weapon. The cup vanished in mid air to his surprise, but his Teacher seemed to ignore it, sliding into the familiar basic stance once more - but this time with another wooden sword in her hands, "follow my movements," she instructed again.

Again Chún repeated the form over and over, hundreds of times. The weapon added an extra dimension to the movements, but having repeated them so many times before, Chún found himself forgetting that his hands had not always had a sword attached to them when they moved. Under his Teacher's watchful eye, some positions shifted slightly to accommodate the weight and reach of the weapon - this arm further back, this foot a háo forward or backward, a wrist slightly higher or lower and so on, but suddenly the 'basic' form's movements took on a whole new meaning.

And then the shadow behind Teacher began to shift once more. He was not surprised when the new clone's sword thrust at him and evaded smoothly into another movement that left his own weapon attacking the clone - only to nearly fall prey to another clone that attacked him without a sword, its attacks lacking the reach, but faster and quicker to shift between them.

Backpedaling, he managed to get out of the unarmed clone reach, but that left him open to the one with the sword. His body reacted without his conscious thought and he lunged inside the range of the sword clone's range with an unarmed attack even as his sword in his other hand hit the unarmed clone.

He froze as both clones shimmered and vanished earning a grunt of approval from his Teacher, "En. Good. Put the sword back," the Xuánwǔ indicated the weapon racks.

When Chún turned from the weapon rack, the Lady was standing in front of a pair of thick wooden logs wrapped in rope. Wordlessly she indicated that Chún should take his place beside her in front of the other log then slid into the basic stance once again, her fist blurring forward into the first strike, which ended at least a chǐ away from the target - but a glowing blast of energy rocked forward from the end of her fist and slammed into the log, leaving a smoking mark and a noticeable divot out of the surface.

The young teen True Cultivator blinked in surprise. He had not felt Essence being moved at all - even when the blast had left her fist, the pulse of Essence was minute - but looking at the damage, the strength of the attack was either much more tightly controlled than anything he could manage or she was using a lot less Essence to produce a much more stronger effect than he could with the same amount of Essence.

"Begin the form again," the Black Tortoise-Snake instructed, "let your Essence flow with intent behind each movement."

Chún blinked in slight confusion, "Teacher, my Essence flows naturally through my body with all my movements."

The Xuánwǔ shook her head, "watch my Essence." Without waiting for a response, she started moving through the same basic unarmed form again and after a startled breath, Chún dropped deeper into his Essence Sense, focusing on his Teacher.

The demi-god was basically a swirling, icy blaze of Yin Essence that nearly overwhelmed his capacity to focus on any details. Chún blinked and pulled his senses back until it was tolerable, but he could still see the shifts - the eb and flow of Essence in her body. A cold prickle of unease ran down his spine as he remembered this was a clone of the North Guardian with only ten percent of her power.

Shaking the thought away, he began systematically filtering out the overwhelming noise and focusing on the movement of Essence in her limbs and after a minor kè, he could focus on just the movement of Essence that corresponded with the movements through the form.

There was the normal reinforcement and strengthening of the body that reminded him of how his own body functioned, but looking closer he started noticing a tiny fluctuation of energy that traveled along with every movement. Rather than Essence itself, it seemed to be a natural extension of the body's own intent, that picked up loose Essence as it travelled around the body with each movement.

And then that intent carried past the hand that was thrust, pulling that loose Essence with it in a tiny bundle of very compressed Essence. The powerful detonation that occurred when that mix of intent and Essence hit the target and unravelled rapidly explained the power behind the deceptively tiny pulse of Essence. "I see," he said, "that is not Essence."

"Martial artists who cannot Cultivate Essence call it Qi," explained his Teacher, "Qi is the intent inherent in all living things. Even a plant has an intent to grow and live. If you focus your intent strongly enough or build it strong enough, you can direct the Essence around you with that intent - whether your own Essence or that of the world around you."

"People who do not Cultivate can use this?" asked Chún in surprise, "how?"

"As long as something lives, it has Qi. Like Essence, Qi is strengthened through practice and use - allowing Qi practitioner to use the Essence or energy of the world around them - instead of relying on internal Essence Cultivation," answered the Xuánwǔ, "the ancient term - Qigong literally means 'energy work'. Cultivators that learn to use Qi to control and focus Essence, achieve much more powerful effects with much less."

There was a pause while Chún digested this, broken by the Black Tortoise-Snake instructing him, "Strike target. Focus on intent, not Essence."

Chún dropped back into the stance without thinking and struck towards the target without hitting it. He could not feel anything different from the other times that he had struck, so he dropped into his Essence Sense and struck again.

As he half expected, he could not notice his intent at all, even though he knew that he had a strong intent to strike.

'This is going to take a while', he thought to himself as he struck again, absorbing himself in the feeling of choosing to act, of intending to strike...