Capítulo 4: Clan Training Grounds
Liu Xuefeng sighed deeply as he sank into the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been long, every interaction like treading thin ice. The relief of knowing his dantian was repaired was tempered by the weight of his new reality. Without that miracle, life in this world would have been unbearable—a prison without bars. Now, at least, he had a chance to survive, maybe even thrive.
For now, though, his mind was a storm. He had two tasks ahead: familiarize himself with this strange world and overcome the lingering feelings for Wuying that clung to him like a shadow. Every interaction with her left him on edge, and he couldn't afford the distraction.
"Young Master, you didn't tell me anything about this pill," Wuying said, her voice breaking the silence like a stone dropped into still water. She stood in front of him, her brown eyes steady, searching his face for answers. "I was with you in the city a week ago, and I don't remember you feeding any beggars."
Xuefeng scratched the back of his head, forcing an awkward laugh. She had him cornered, and the story that worked on his parents wouldn't fool her. But she hadn't exposed him—yet. That meant he could trust her, at least with part of the truth.
"You're right. There was no pill," he admitted, meeting her gaze. "I have… a secret. Something that helped me recover. But I haven't figured out how it works yet. When I do, you'll be the first to know."
The sincerity in his voice seemed to ease her, and she let out a soft sigh as she sat beside him on the bed. "I'm glad it was just a lie," she murmured, a faint tremor in her voice. "If it had been some unknown pill, I would have blamed myself for not protecting you properly. Young Master, you must promise me—never take any medicine unless you know its source. You never know who might be trying to harm you."
"I promise," Xuefeng said, his tone solemn, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "And now that I can finally cultivate, I'll work to protect myself. I won't need to rely on others so much anymore."
He leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes as flashes of memory filled his mind—the clash, the blood, the betrayal. His predecessor's tragedy played like a broken film reel, and he clenched his fists. Revenge felt distant, like a mountain on the horizon, but the path was clear.
"I'll show you," he thought, directing his silent promise to the boy whose body he now inhabited. "I'll prove that Wuying is in good hands. You can rest now."
"Young Master…" Wuying's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. Her hand was on his, trembling slightly. "I wanted to apologize… for not being there yesterday. If only I had been by your side, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have had to suffer."
Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill as guilt twisted her expression. Xuefeng sat up, taking her hand in his.
"It's not your fault," he said firmly, though the words tasted strange in his mouth. "I was hurt because I wasn't strong enough to protect you. But I promise—I won't let it happen again."
The earnestness in his voice surprised even him, but Wuying seemed comforted. She held his hand against her cheek, her warmth radiating through his palm.
"I can't wait to see you grow stronger," she whispered, her eyes shining with quiet determination. "I know you'll become a powerful cultivator."
Xuefeng felt the weight of her words settle in his chest, tightening around his heart like a vice. He endured the moment until she pulled away, her usual cheerful demeanor returning.
"You've been in bed too long," she said, standing and smoothing her dress. "A walk will do you good. How about visiting the city? We still have time before sunset."
It was a practical suggestion—exploring the city was already on his list. He nodded. "Alright. Just let me freshen up and change first."
"Do you want me to help scrub your back?" she offered sincerely, her tone innocent, though her words sent his mind spiraling.
"There's no need," he replied quickly, rising from the bed and making his way to the bathroom. "I can manage on my own."
The privacy of the bathroom was a welcome relief. As he scrubbed away the grime of the day, his thoughts churned.
I have to be careful. If I keep rejecting her, she might start suspecting something's off. I need to play along, at least until I figure out what to do.
But thoughts of Tianshi crept in, her face vivid in his memory. He clenched his jaw. Falling for someone else felt like betrayal, even if the feelings weren't truly his.
***
Xuefeng tried to calm the frantic beat of his heart before stepping out of the courtyard. He had almost succeeded when Wuying's hand slipped into his, her thumb brushing softly against his skin. At first, he let it pass, focusing instead on the path ahead, but soon the warmth of her touch seeped into his thoughts, dragging his mind into dangerous territory he desperately wanted to avoid.
"Ehem." He cleared his throat loudly and came to an abrupt stop. Her wide eyes met his, and for a moment, he wavered. But he knew this couldn't continue. "Wuying, I know we're… comfortable with each other, but we shouldn't hold hands in public. People might talk behind your back."
Wuying blinked, her expression clouding briefly before a shy smile tugged at her lips. She released his hand reluctantly. "I just wanted to thank you for defending me yesterday," she said softly. "I know how much you like it when I touch you, so I thought it would cheer you up."
Xuefeng's breath caught in his throat. "W-well, that's fine," he stammered, glancing away. "But… not in places where everyone can see us."
He hoped his fumbling response would end the conversation, but Wuying tilted her head, her eyes brightening with sudden inspiration. "Mmhmm, I understand," she said with a mischievous grin. "I'll just touch you more when no one is looking to make up for it."
"What?"
Before he could protest, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, the warmth of her lips igniting a fire in his chest. "Since we can't hold hands, you can take this as your reward," she said with an innocent smile. "I know it's your favorite."
Xuefeng stood frozen, words stuck in his throat as she turned and sauntered ahead, her laughter trailing behind her like a melody. He watched her graceful figure disappear past the courtyard gate and groaned softly, running a hand down his face.
Calm down. Calm down…
It was just a kiss, he told himself. A simple kiss on the cheek. But the pounding of his heart betrayed him, and he cursed under his breath. If this kept up, he wouldn't be able to distinguish his predecessor's feelings from his own.
"Are you coming?" Wuying called back, her teasing tone cutting through his thoughts. "Or do you want another reward?"
Xuefeng clenched his fists and forced a smile. "I'm coming," he said, his voice cracking slightly.
They walked side by side, and Xuefeng made an effort to focus, scanning the clan's grounds with a critical eye. The main road was flanked by smaller courtyards, modest in size compared to his own. Even as a cripple, he had lived in one of the largest homes in the clan—an advantage that had fueled jealousy and ridicule for years.
Strength is everything here. Without cultivation, he had been considered a waste of resources, a stain on the Liu family name. But now that he could cultivate, that narrative would change. He'd make sure of it.
"How about we visit the training grounds?" Xuefeng suggested, stopping briefly to gauge her reaction. "Now that I can cultivate, it'd be good to watch and learn."
Wuying nodded, leading the way. They stopped at the entrance, observing the scene from a distance. Youngsters were scattered across the grounds, their movements precise as they practiced their skills.
Xuefeng's breath caught as he watched a boy swing his sword in a fluid arc, releasing a crescent-shaped wave of energy. The blade of light sliced clean through a wooden puppet, leaving a deep gash in its chest.
"Amazing…" Xuefeng whispered, his eyes wide with wonder.
Wuying smiled at his reaction. "That's Liu Yong," she said, nodding toward the boy. "He's a Peak Spirit Master and wields two spirit artifacts—one weapon, one armor. The sword you see is a rank two Spirit Sword called Air Cutter. There aren't many like it in the clan."
Xuefeng frowned slightly, digging through his predecessor's fragmented memories. "You need to kill a beast to get a spirit artifact, right?"
"Exactly," Wuying confirmed. "Spirit artifacts are formed from the remains of a beast's spirit. For example, if you kill a rank two White Sparrow, there's a chance you could obtain an Air Cutter. But it's rare—only about one in ten White Sparrows yield an artifact."
"I see…" Xuefeng nodded, but he couldn't help scolding his predecessor. How do you know less about cultivation than your maid? Even if the old Xuefeng couldn't cultivate, there was no excuse for his ignorance.
"When we reach the city, we can visit the Spirit Artifacts House," Wuying suggested, her voice bright with enthusiasm. "You might find something interesting."
Xuefeng smiled. "I'd like that. I need to learn as much as I can before hunting beasts myself."
The Liu clan's territory was centrally located, with shops and restaurants clustered nearby. As they approached the main gate, the guards snapped to attention, bowing deeply.
"Miss Wuying. Young Master," they said in unison, stepping aside to let them pass.
Xuefeng nodded absently, attributing their deference to his status as the Clan Leader's son. But as he glanced at Wuying, he realized the truth. Their reverence wasn't for him—it was for her.
Who is she, really?
Few knew the truth about Wuying, but the guards had no illusions. She was the one who trained them, their leader in everything but name.
The Liu Clan's Shadow Guards were an elite force, authorized to eliminate threats with ruthless efficiency. Their presence alone kept crime in Phoenix City at bay. Years ago, rival clans had vied for dominance, but Liu Xiaobei's creation of the Shadow Guards had crushed them, forcing them to flee or disband. Now, the Liu Clan reigned supreme.
Once Xuefeng and Wuying were out of sight, the two guards exchanged a nervous glance.
"If I didn't know any better," the shorter guard muttered, "I'd think she was just a cheerful maid. But the way she acts around the Young Master…"
"Shut up," his partner hissed, scanning the area anxiously. "Do you want to die? What if she hears you?"
The shorter guard shrugged, shifting uncomfortably. "By the way, how long did you last in this month's Shadow Guard test? I thought I had a chance, but I was done by the second day."
The taller guard sighed. "Three days. Better than before, but I pushed myself too hard. Had to rest for a whole day after."
They fell silent, both pondering their odds of ever making it into the Shadow Guards. For now, it was a distant dream.
"Maybe next time," the shorter guard said finally.
"Maybe," his partner replied, though neither sounded convinced.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
Piokilek
Piokilek Status: Edited
Capítulo 5: Golden Phoenix Restaurant
While the guards traded low, conspiratorial whispers by the gates, Xuefeng's eyes darted over the bustling city like a thief sizing up a mark. Fragments of borrowed memories flickered in his mind—a ghostly familiarity that both comforted and unnerved him. The streets pulsed with life, the shuffle of sandaled feet and the hum of voices mingling with the tangy scent of roasted meat and spices. Traditional robes of brilliant reds and blues swayed like banners in the crowd, while the ancient, weathered architecture loomed above, a reminder of a world that felt both alien and familiar.
Wuying's voice came soft but curious, cutting through the noise of the street. "Is there something you're looking for, Young Master?"
He glanced at her, realizing his actions must have seemed peculiar. To her, he probably looked like a child seeing the world for the first time—wide-eyed and curious.
"Nothing in particular," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "I just… feel like I need to get reacquainted with everything. After waking up, it all feels a little strange."
Wuying studied him closely, her dark eyes narrowing slightly, and Xuefeng felt a bead of sweat trace a path down his spine. The old Liu Xuefeng had never shown much curiosity about the world around him, never asked questions or behaved this way.
Would she notice? Would she suspect?
Her lips pressed into a thoughtful line, but she eventually nodded, a soft hum escaping her throat. "I see. That's understandable after what you've been through."
Relief washed over him, and they continued their walk.
Wuying took it upon herself to act as his guide, pointing out landmarks and hidden spots as they wandered. A narrow park tucked between two buildings, its flowers bursting with vibrant reds and golds. A bustling market square where merchants called out their wares, the air thick with the scent of spices and roasted meats. The rhythm of the city swirled around them, alive and unrelenting, but Xuefeng felt oddly detached from it all.
Soon, they arrived at an opulent building with a grand facade. Its gilded sign gleamed in the sunlight, the characters etched in bold strokes:
Golden Phoenix.
Xuefeng's eyes lingered on the name. According to his memories, it was the most luxurious restaurant in the city, a place reserved for the wealthy and influential. The old Xuefeng had never stepped foot inside, preferring simpler, quieter places. But today, curiosity won out.
"There's a long line," Xuefeng observed, noting the queue of patrons waiting outside. "I guess we'll have to wait if we want to eat here."
Wuying chuckled softly and tugged at his sleeve, pulling him toward the entrance. "Young Master, you're Liu Xuefeng of the great Liu Clan. You don't wait in lines."
Her confidence carried them into the lobby, bypassing the waiting crowd. A young woman in elegant attire approached them, bowing politely.
"Welcome to the Golden Phoenix," she greeted with a practiced smile. "Do you have a reservation?"
Xuefeng returned her smile, his tone polite. "We don't. Are there any tables available?"
The waitress hesitated, her smile faltering slightly. "I'm afraid all our tables are currently occupied. You'll need to wait for a vacancy."
"What about the other floors?" Xuefeng asked, glancing upward at the building's multiple levels.
"The second floor is also full," the waitress explained. "And the third floor consists of private rooms reserved exclusively for the city's most prominent families." Her tone was carefully neutral, but the implication was clear: You don't belong there.
Xuefeng straightened slightly, his expression calm. "That's fine. We'll take one of the private rooms on the third floor."
A ripple of tension swept through the lobby. The patrons in line turned to stare, their whispers quick and cutting.
"Does he think he can just walk into the third floor?"
"Even a Liu Clan member was denied entry yesterday. What makes him so special?"
"Only geniuses and true elites get to dine there. Who does he think he is?"
The buzzing crowd made Xuefeng feel like a fly pinned to a glass case. His jaw tightened, and he could feel his pulse thudding in his ears.
"What's wrong with these people?" he muttered under his breath, his scowl deepening.
"May I assist you?" A new voice cut through the din like a blade.
A woman in a sleek red dress approached, her presence commanding. Her smile was sharp, her eyes assessing as they flicked between Xuefeng and Wuying.
"Manager Wu," the waitress greeted with a bow, relief evident in her voice.
The manager nodded before turning her full attention to Xuefeng. "My apologies, sir. I understand you'd like to dine on the third floor?"
"That's correct," Xuefeng replied, his voice steady despite the tension thickening the air. "My name is Liu Xuefeng, and this is Wuying. We're from the Liu Clan."
For a moment, the manager's expression remained carefully neutral, her polished smile not quite reaching her eyes. But then recognition flickered—brief, like a spark catching on dry wood—and her smile deepened, genuine warmth radiating in its wake.
"Young Master Liu," she said smoothly, "the son of Liu Xiaobei. It's an honor to have you here."
The murmurs in the crowd fell silent as her words registered. The sneers and judgment evaporated, replaced by wide-eyed stares.
"Yes, that's me," Xuefeng confirmed, feeling a wave of awkwardness wash over him.
"Please forgive us for not recognizing you sooner," Manager Wu said with a bow. "We would be delighted to accommodate you. Waitress, escort our esteemed guests to a private room on the third floor."
The waitress bowed quickly, her demeanor suddenly deferential. "Right this way, Young Master Liu."
As they followed the waitress toward the grand staircase, Xuefeng caught the stunned faces of the crowd. A flicker of satisfaction crept into his chest, but he quickly pushed it aside. He wasn't here to flaunt his status.
Still, as they ascended to the third floor, he couldn't help but think: Maybe being Liu Xuefeng isn't so bad after all.
As Xuefeng and Wuying ascended the stairs, the crowd below exploded into a frenzy of whispers, the sound swelling like a hive disturbed. His name—"Young Master Liu"—crackled through the air, sharp and electric, sparking disbelief, envy, and barely veiled derision. He could almost feel the words brushing against his skin, each whisper a needle prick that burrowed deeper than he cared to admit.
"Did you hear what Manager Wu said? That kid is the Liu Clan's Young Master."
"Wait, you mean the one with the broken dantian?"
"That's him. He's been hiding in the Liu Clan's compound for years. Hardly ever showed his face."
"Are we sure it's really him? He didn't look like a cripple to me."
"Maybe he was. Maybe he was. Did you think of that? If his dantian is fixed, it could only mean one thing—a third-rank medical pill."
"That's insane! Those pills are worth more than gold! Why waste one on him?"
The whispers grew louder, punctuated by scoffs and sneers.
"Why else would he show his face at the Golden Phoenix, of all places? He must be flaunting it now that he's not an embarrassment to his clan. I heard he was so ashamed he practically lived like a hermit."
Xuefeng's ears burned as fragments of their conversation drifted up to him, each word like a thorn scraping at his composure. His jaw clenched, and he forced himself to keep walking. Ignore them, he thought. It's just noise. But no matter how hard he tried, the words clung to him, a relentless reminder that even in this new world, people thrived on gossip and speculation.
Unbeknownst to him, the chatter didn't stop at the ground floor. Like ripples in a pond, word of the "crippled Young Master's" miraculous recovery spread to the second floor and beyond. Rival clans, foreign dignitaries, and even curious bystanders abandoned their meals, eager to relay the news to their networks.
The Liu Clan's movements in Phoenix City always carried weight, but this—this was something else. The return of the Clan Leader's only son, healed and dining at the Golden Phoenix, was nothing short of a revelation. By the time Xuefeng reached the private dining room on the third floor, the shockwaves were already radiating out into the city.
Xuefeng stepped into the private dining room with an air of practiced calm, though his chest still burned from the barbed whispers below. The room was a sanctuary of quiet opulence, its lanterns casting a golden glow over polished mahogany furniture that seemed too perfect to touch. The rich aroma of roasted meats curled through the air, momentarily soothing his nerves and teasing the hunger that gnawed at him.
As they perused the menu, Manager Wu arrived with impeccable timing. Her recommendations proved invaluable, and soon, their orders were placed. Left alone, Xuefeng relaxed, leaning back in his chair.
Then a sudden thought struck him, and he bolted upright, his face pale.
"Wuying," he blurted, his hands frantically patting his robe. The realization hit him like a slap, cold and humiliating. "I—I forgot to bring money!"
The alarm in his voice startled her. She blinked, studying him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"What's so funny?" Xuefeng asked, baffled.
Her laughter subsided, though her smile lingered as she wiped her eyes. "Young Master, I thought you were joking," she said, her tone light but kind. "Don't worry about money. The Liu Clan always settles its accounts here. Your meal will be billed directly to the family."
Xuefeng's shoulders sagged with relief, though he felt a twinge of embarrassment. "Right… of course," he mumbled, leaning back again. You're not a broke college student anymore, idiot.
"I should've explained earlier," Wuying added, her voice soft. "You haven't been out much, so it's natural you wouldn't know."
Her consideration only deepened his self-reproach, and he quickly changed the subject. "Wuying, you seem to know a lot about cultivation. Do you cultivate too?"
"Everyone in the Liu Clan cultivates, Young Master. I'm no exception," she replied with a shrug.
"Do you have a Spirit Artifact?" he asked, curiosity lighting his eyes.
Her smile faltered, and a flicker of discomfort crossed her face, as though he'd touched on something sacred. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her posture stiffening.
"Is something wrong?" Xuefeng asked, tilting his head, genuinely puzzled by her sudden unease.
"Young Master," she said, her voice tinged with exasperation, "it's not polite to ask someone about their Spirit Artifact. It's… personal. Like asking someone to bare their soul."
Xuefeng's face heated with embarrassment. "Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry if I was rude."
Wuying chuckled, her laughter soft and melodic. "I'm only teasing you, Young Master. But it's true—Spirit Artifacts are deeply connected to their owners. They're not something we show off casually."
"Fair enough," Xuefeng said, shaking his head at her teasing. "But now you've got me curious. Will you show me yours someday?"
She tapped her chin thoughtfully before flashing him a mischievous grin. "Tell you what—if you can secure at least a third-rank Spirit Artifact at your Spirit Awakening Ceremony, I'll show you mine."
"Deal," Xuefeng said with a smile, though the prospect of the ceremony filled him with uncertainty. His dantian was newly repaired—he had no idea what to expect.
"Don't worry too much," Wuying said, reading his expression. "If your talent is strong, the artifact will resonate with you. And if you're very lucky, you might even attract more than one."
"Wait, you can have more than one?"
"There's no limit," Wuying explained. "Though most people only ever bond with one. It takes exceptional talent to attract more."
Her words sparked a flicker of hope in Xuefeng. "So even if I don't get a great one this time, I can try again later?"
"Possibly," she said with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "You can ask the clan leader about it tomorrow when you meet with your instructor."
Their conversation paused as the waitstaff entered, bearing plates of food. The rich aroma of roasted meats and savory spices filled the room, making Xuefeng's stomach growl audibly.
The table was soon laden with an array of dishes: grilled pigeon, coated pheasant, fried bear paws, and even the restaurant's prized third-rank wild boar meat. The portions were modest, but each bite delivered an explosion of flavor.
Xuefeng savored the meal, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. "This is amazing," he said, grinning as he leaned back with a contented sigh. "We should come here more often."
"Careful, Young Master," Wuying teased. "If you keep eating like this, you'll bankrupt the clan."
Their laughter echoed warmly in the room until Manager Wu returned, her polished demeanor as impeccable as ever.
"Young Master Liu, was everything to your satisfaction?" she asked.
"It was perfect," Xuefeng replied, still grinning.
"I'm glad to hear it." With a bow, she handed him a golden card.
"What's this?" he asked, examining the card's intricate design.
"It's our company's exclusive membership card," Manager Wu explained, her tone as polished as ever. "It grants you a discount across all our establishments and priority service."
Xuefeng's eyes widened as he took the card in his hands, the weight of it almost as impressive as the finely engraved letters on its surface: Trade Union.
"Thank you, Manager Wu," Xuefeng said, inclining his head as he turned the golden card over in his hands. The words Trade Union gleamed under the soft light, their weight heavy in more ways than one.
Manager Wu bowed gracefully, her every movement deliberate and polished. "It's our honor to serve you, Young Master Liu. Please enjoy your evening."
As the door clicked shut behind her, silence thickened the air. It was only then that Xuefeng noticed Wuying's eyes fixed on the card, her expression a mask of alarm barely held in check.
"Young Master," she said, her voice low and tight, "do you have any idea what you're holding?"
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