THE YILING MATRIARCH

Chapter 12 : Time Immemorial - Part 5: Cultivation Tournament

Since the time of the first Cultivators, a unique tournament to keep peaceful balance among the five greatest sect clans as they compete in their skill against all manner of ferocious spirits and impure beings. Every ten years, the competition is sponsored by a different clan within their sect, and in this year during the midst of the summer months that privilege was held by none other than the Wen clan.

The people of the rising sun were seen as one of the strongest of clans for their power to combat against the fiercest of entities. Their cultivation sect home was a grand palace surrounded by a thick mountain range atop what had been an active volcano centuries ago when it had been claimed by the Wen's founder, Wen Mao.

It was in this rocky landscape that Wei Meifeng, having somehow gotten separated from her peers of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, was wandering aimlessly as she attempted to search for where the stupid competition was supposed to be held.

"Uhg! Why is this place so hard to navigate!? If only I could find someone to point me where I need to go." Meifeng whinned under her breath, using the back of her sleeve to wipe a thin sheen of sweat from her brow as she came over the top of a steep hill; there were too many inclines for her personal liking compared to the perfectly flat landscape of Yunmeng that gave her the perfect running platform into the lotus water that soaked her in its sweet smelling petals.

The Madam of Yunmeng Jiang often viciously scolded her for doing this after completing an afternoon of sparring with Jiang Cheng, proclaiming it was not ladylike, yet anything she did could never please the woman to any extent.

Passing by an archery range, a thudding sound caught her gaze to an arrow sitting in the middle of its target and the person whose form had remained still after releasing the attack. Curious as to who the excellent archer was, Meifeng peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse of that person.

It was a young man, not much younger than her by her best estimation, wearing pristine white robes with red accents befitting someone belonging to the Wen Clan. His long hair styled in a high ponytail was a dark brown and his eyes were a unique heavy grey, reminding her of the tops of trees in a dark forest. His face, however, was soft and slightly rounded, giving him a boyish appearance that matched his shorter stature compared to her.

Watching as his hand came up once more to release another arrow, Meifeng acted out the first thing that came to her mind instead of considering the consequences of approaching someone holding a weapon while they were so intensely focused: she called out to him, complimenting his aiming, and narrowly missed the shot that flew off the bow in surprise at her head. Thankfully, it missed her.

"Whew, that was a close one..." Meifeng commented, looking where the stray arrow had flown out of her sight into the vast space. Hearing a nervous shuffle of feet, she looked back at the young man who was holding his bow with shaking hands at his own actions of firing at someone. It reminded Meifeng of the younger disciples at Yunmeng Jiang who had not yet found their place with the others yet. It was always the ones like this that brought out what Jiang Cheng had sarcastically nicknamed her 'motherly-hen instincts'.

Calling out to the teen, she said, "Don't be nervous. What's your name? Your archery skills are some of the best that I've seen-"

"I'm sorry!" Her attempt to comfort the obvious nervous trainwreck abruptly ended as he bowed apologetically and ran behind a solid rock formation twenty feet away, his ponytail billowing around him until he disappeared from view. Was the boy really that shy that he couldn't accept a compliment from a pretty girl? She could even still pick out his body behind the rock despite his endeavour to run away as he had done.

Shrugging her shoulders, Meifeng averted her attention away from where the strange boy had 'disappeared' and focused her attention to finding her way while speaking aloud of her struggle to find where the Cultivation contest was being held while sounding as helpless as possible.