Things were not coming together at all. The images in Shirong's head just didn't seem to want to focus. Oh, his element moved through both attributes the way he'd been taught, but that wasn't good enough. Heaven didn't want to combine with Earth at all. Not yet, at least.
Quite suddenly Shun Shixiong said, "Try two after all. You'll damage your cultivation if you try to force yourself."
Shirong wanted to argue, to remind his Shixiong that he'd never wielded two swords before. Except in a way he had. Shun Shixiong was likely to have a fit if this worked, but at that moment Shirong knew he'd little choice. He was too deeply emmeshed in the effort to create his weapon.
"They're going to look strange," Shirong said. "But I'll try."
"You can always learn to adjust them later." With an unusual flicker of humor, Shun Shixiong added, "You should have seen mine, first time round."
Hopefully Shun Shixiong would expand on that later. For now, however, Shirong had to focus. Two blades, of a sort, one glowing brilliant white, the other an impossible black, both intertwined with a fine thread of green, like a vine growing along their surface. No obvious edges, but Shirong knew that didn't matter. All that mattered was that they did what his mind said they should.
Tong Si cursed softly as the blades took form. "What the hell are those?"
Too busy focusing on maintaining control, Shirong turned his attention on his target. How did the motion go again? Ah, yes, that was right. He tightened his grip on the shapes of the weapons' hilts. Flicked one up, the other down, slicing the wood into pieces in two swift movements.
Afraid of losing control, he released the blades. As they faded and he opened his eyes, he was relieved to see Shu Shun's expression. Resigned, yes, but also highly amused. "Most people," his elder sect brother said calmly, "do not create weapons that destructive their first try. But I've never seen anything quite like those before. Would you care to explain what odd thought came into your head just now? Given one did?"
Ruefully, Shirong said, "It was just something from another life." He had to be careful how he explained it. The others didn't know he'd transmigrated to this body. He'd prefer to keep it that way. "I'm not sure what to call them, though."
"How about impressive," Tong Si said suddenly. "I've seen Leifeng Sect weapons summoning before. I've never seen any disciple cut a piece of wood quite so easily their first try."
Shirong flushed at the compliment but shrugged it off. "I'm lucky," was all he said. There really wasn't much else he could tell the man.
"Best practice summoning until it becomes second nature," Shun Shixiong said. "Summon and hold five minutes. Tomorrow I'll want you to increase that to ten."
"Yes, Shixiong." As Shirong returned to the task of focusing on his weapons, he reflected that he was lucky in several different ways. Not just that he could summon those blades but that they seemed to work exactly as his memory said they should. All despite being purely imaginary weapons from his old life.
And, lastly, lucky Lucasfilm and Beat Games weren't anywhere in this era to charge him with trademark infringement.
#
Sleep didn't come easy after that summoning. Shirong was growing more and more accustomed to this world but finding himself in possession of two weapons created simply by thought was a bit more than he felt prepared for.
Not that he minded Shun Shixiong's insistence that he take that step. As far as he knew, he was stuck in this body and this life for good. It behooved him to learn what old Shirong had failed to. Behooved him, as well, to do a better job of being a proper Shidi to Shu Shun than old Shirong had been.
Watching his Shixiong sleep, Shirong felt his protective urge increase. It couldn't have felt good, seeing his Shidi create two powerful and dangerous weapons so easily. That same twisted fortune that made Shu Shun's life more difficult, making Shirong's life simpler. He couldn't protect Shun Shixiong from that, but he was determined to protect him from the effects.
At last, Shirong fell asleep, to find himself sitting with a dozen or so children. A memory from old Shirong's childhood? It seemed so. He and the others were learning the first steps towards cultivation. Nothing complicated, just the fine art of sitting still and learning mindfulness. Shirong himself had learned something similar in kindergarten. It hadn't been called meditation or cultivation at the time, of course, but it had a similar purpose. Keep the noisy rotten brat from running around making a nuisance of himself.
Admittedly, the Sect Elder who raised old Shirong didn't regard his ward as a noisy rotten brat, but Shirong was hard put to think of the child otherwise. As far as he could tell, his predecessor had been handed whatever he wanted without having to work for it and was so accustomed to being spoiled that the mere hint of the word 'no' was unbearable.
Three year old Shirong hadn't been so smart as to understand what was going on around him. That meant dreaming Shirong couldn't make out the words of the adults. It wasn't quite the same as the adults on that one cartoon, but it certainly wasn't comprehensible. He did sense tension in the air, especially when a tall man he recognized as his Shizun brought a very young Shu Shun in to practice with them.
The Sect Elder didn't sound pleased. Something Shizun said soothed him a little, but it was obvious to old Shirong and everyone else that Shu Shun wasn't wanted. Not even the youngster's quiet obedience to the session leader helped. The Sect Elder apparently wanted Shizun to take the boy away but couldn't force the issue.
In the meantime, with admirable speed and no hesitation at all, Shu Shun settled into stance and calmly dropped into the proper state of mind. A faint sapphire and ruby-tinted glow surrounded him, sign he was well on his way to establishing his foundation.
Shirong could tell his predecessor felt challenged. He sat his plump little butt down right in front of the smaller and more fragile looking Shu Shun and began trying to draw on his own inner strength, imitating his future Shixiong's posture and hand seals.
The trouble with having talent but no sense, of course, was that one's confidence wasn't always matched with the results. The hand seals Shu Shun was using weren't complicated but old Shirong had yet to learn their proper use. Had yet to learn how to channel the power correctly. One slight mistake sent him flying backwards.
In the chaos that followed, Shu Shun was automatically blamed for having encouraged old Shirong to try something too hard. It was apparently the first time old Shirong would create havoc, trying to imitate his Shixiong. It wouldn't be the last.
And the sad part was, as far as Shirong could tell, his predecessor's younger self hadn't been doing it deliberately, any more than Shirong himself did. It was admiration, a yearning to be approved of, that'd led to those first disasters. And the Sect Elder's continued conviction that Shu Shun encouraged Shirong's mistakes that led to old Shirong concluding they were, indeed, his Shixiong's fault.
Somehow, Shirong was going to have to change all that.
#
The next day was brighter and clearer, a relief after all the fog they'd had to go through the day before. Shun Shixiong had them up and moving early, to Liang Ren's continued irritation. Mo Qinghe wasn't terribly happy about it either, but Tong Si and Shirong both went through their morning exercises without a word. As for Priest Housu, she'd already started meditating by the time everyone else was up.
"Practice wielding two swords," Shun Shixiong ordered once Shirong had gone through his basic warmups. "As you grow better, your summon swords will feel more and more real. You'll need to know the weight and how they're handled."
Already Shun Shixiong had broken off two branches from a tree as they passed. Rapidly cleaning off the twigs and the bark, he handed them to Shirong. "As we walk, practice swinging these. Follow the twin-blade drill."
Twin-blade drill was exactly as it sounded and easy enough at this stage. Shirong was aware he probably looked a fool, swiping at the air and dodging as he walked. Other travelers gave him a wide berth and rightly so. He was a great deal clumsier with the sticks than he'd felt with his summon swords.
"What are those swords of yours, anyway?" Liang Ren demanded. He was walking upside down, his long hair tucked into his belt to keep him from accidentally 'stepping' on it. "I've never seen anything like."
"A kind of saber." Shirong didn't dare be too specific. No one would understand and it sounded foolish. "I'm not sure where I've seen them before."
"Not at Leifeng," Tong Si stated with surprising assurance. "It's one thing to be creative, or so I hear. Quite another to be entirely original."
That was true. Old Shirong's memories showed him that sect disciples tended to begin with very simple weapon patterns - even to the point of carrying a real example for a while - then adjust the blade to match their own personalities. Small surprise Shu Shun's were all sharp points. So was he.
No doubt Tong Si was pressing the question because he didn't like not knowing what he might face later. And though he was an ally now, there could be no guarantee that he'd remain so for long. "I don't know how to answer that."
"If you know anything about Leifeng," Shu Shun interrupted. "Then you know discussing our weapons with outsiders isn't encouraged. Ask you permit my Shidi to leave the subject be. Besides, its high time he changed to the cross-hand drill and that will take up most of his time."
Old Shirong would likely have resented being made to practice and practice and practice. Shirong, however, relieved and grateful. He also wanted to learn what he was supposed to understand, and that meant slashing one hand then the other through thin air until his wooden 'swords' started feeling like extra limbs.
They passed a makeshift eatery about half-way to their destination. One where Liang Ren automatically headed without pausing to ask. Or he would have if Shu Shun hadn't set a hand to his elbow. "I don't think this is a good choice."
"I'm hungry," Liang Ren whined, staring hopefully at the poorly maintained tent, the open-air kitchen swarming with flies, the bloody chopping board and the rickety tables and chairs beneath the awning.
It was Priest Housu who set a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Would you break the pact" she murmured, just barely audible to Shirong.
Remembering what Shun Shixiong and his undesired servant, Mo Qingshe had discussed back at the other inn, it was no surprise when his elder sect brother murmured, "At least half that's human. And burned."
Shirong couldn't quite help saying, "That's adding insult to injury. Bad enough to wind up someone's main course in a place like this. Even worse to be made into something disgusting while you're at it."
By this time the proprietress of the place and her less than savory looking chef had come out of the kitchen area to gaze at them with unfriendly eyes. "Hungry travelers should stop and eat," the lady said.
"We're not quite that hungry," Shu Shun countered. "We'll be on our way."
Before they could suit action to words, though, the inn's workers came out from behind thin air, breaking illusions Shirong hadn't recognized in time. The proprietress, a ragged older woman who looked like she'd dined on the very best the inn had to offer, smiled more broadly. "We'll see about that," she said calmly. "Jou Sanfeng, do something about these people. We're running low on meat anyway."
As the leader of their would-be attackers inclined his head and started forward, slapping a heavy iron bar on his open palm, Shirong asked Shun Shixiong. "Elder brother? May I?"
"Be my guest, Shidi. It's high time you put what you've been practicing to the test." Shu Shun stepped back and swept his hand towards their would-be attackers. "You handle their leader and the rest of us will take care of the others."
Shirong bowed, hoping he could, after all, manage the matter properly.