Dao of the World Walker (Xianxia) Book 2

Yang thought back to last night. After the sudden rush of memories while lying in bed, after retrieving the box and book from their hiding place, he’d spent hours immersed in Lucien’s recollections. Going through the minute details.

Now, in the gray morning light filtering through the dirty window, Yang looked at the contents of the box spread across the desk beside the book.

Inside were several pale green stones, each about the size of a fingernail. This world’s version of spirit stones are called energy stones, according to Lucien’s memories. They glowed faintly with internal light, holding power Yang could sense.

Next to the stones sat something that caught Yang’s attention immediately. A pen, but not any pen he’d seen before. The body was made of crystal and metal fused together in intricate patterns. It wasn’t designed to hold ink like a normal pen. Instead, it looked almost like a piece of art, the crystal portion transparent and waiting.

Finally, twelve paper-thin crystal sheets lay stacked carefully at the bottom of the box. Each half the size of Yang’s palm. They had a sheen to them, reflecting different colors like rainbows when light hit them at certain angles. Fragile-looking but sturdy.

Due to the recently clear memories of Lucien, Yang had some ideas about what to do. But first, he needed to test something.

Yang took one of the energy stones in his hand and sat on the floor in the basic cultivation position the sect had taught. He kept the stone in his right hand as he tried to absorb the energy and cultivate it like he’d once read about can be done with spirit stones but it wasn’t successful, Yang wasn’t sure if it was the stone itself or his lack of having done this before. 

Back in White Cloud Sect, the concentration of qi in the air had been good enough that the little extra qi provided by spirit stones hadn’t seemed worth the cost of losing the buying power.

Yang sat for a few hours trying to cultivate with the energy stone. Reaching for the power inside it. Attempting to draw it into his body through his meridians.

Nothing happened.

He felt no energy entering his body. The stone remained inert in his hand, its power locked away behind barriers Yang couldn’t breach.

He also checked the status bar in his Sea of Consciousness.

[0.0010% Energy]

Only a tiny passive increase. Not from his cultivation attempt.

No. It won’t work like that.

Yang had suspected this would happen but was still disheartened. It would have made his life far easier if he could absorb from the energy stones directly. Just cultivate normally and fill the status bar through familiar methods.

But it was understandable why it was impossible. Cultivation as Yang knew it wasn’t possible in this world according to Lucien’s memories. And this body, unlike Yang’s original one, lacked the necessary meridians and dantian for cultivation. Those structures simply didn’t exist in the flesh he now wore.

Yang got off the floor and sat back on the chair. Since his way wasn’t going to work, Yang had no choice but to play by this world’s rules.

He took one of the energy stones and examined the crystal and metallic pen more closely. The two parts had a small cavity-like space at the connection point. Yang pressed one end of the stone into the cavity.

It attached itself automatically, clicking into place with a soft sound. Immediately, the whole crystal portion of the pen showed veins of glowing green color, like the stone had breathed life into the implement. Energy flowed through the crystal in visible patterns, beautiful and alien.

This was an inscription pen. Used in this world to inscribe patterns onto those thin crystal sheets called cards. The cards served as a medium to perform magic. The power system of this entire world, contained in these fragile-looking rectangles.

Yang got a better grip on the pen, holding it like he would a talisman brush before changing it to the grip style of pens.

He liked it less than his talisman brush immediately.

His brush had felt like a part of him. An extension of his will. He’d felt his qi flow from his body into the brush and onto the talisman paper as he created talismans. The connection had been intuitive. Personal.

This pen felt like a tool with no connection. Something that would work just as well for anyone who picked it up. Cold. Impersonal. Mechanical rather than organic.

Yang dismissed the thought, knowing he had no choice but to make do with what he had in this world. And he should count himself lucky that Lucien had worked so hard to gather these things. Otherwise Yang would have had to gather the funds necessary to acquire these materials himself. Starting from absolute zero with no knowledge of this world’s economy or opportunities.

Yang opened the book and began reading page by page, the inscription pen still in his hand. The energy wouldn’t drain from the stone until Yang actually inscribed on a blank card, so there was no rush.

Yang didn’t know how long he sat at the desk, going through the book and studying the designs for each kind of card. Hours passed. The light through the window shifted. His body complained about sitting still for so long, but Yang ignored it.

The book was comprehensive in its coverage of basic cards. Fire cards. Water cards. Light cards. Utility cards for everyday tasks. Each one had a specific inscription pattern and a specific requirements for energy flow.

Yang absorbed it all. Comparing silently to talisman creation. Finding similarities and differences. Building a mental framework for understanding this new system.

He knew the first order of business was practice. To actually create a card. Because that was how the inhabitants of this world cultivated their power. The more cards you inscribed, the more cards you could inscribe. The more difficult cards you became able to create. Experience built on itself. Skill accumulated through repetition.

Lucien’s reason for giving up had been his inability to inscribe even a single functional card. Let alone the five required to register with the Cardwright Union and gain access to higher card inscription knowledge.

Yang decided to start with the basic light-making card. It had a simple enough design according to the book. Just a few lines and connection points.

The design itself wasn’t what had been difficult for Lucien to achieve. Yang understood that now from the memories. The challenge was something else entirely.

Unlike Yang and his fellow cultivators who had the ability to feel qi flowing from their bodies into their talismans, who had learned to manage that flow through practice and awareness, beginner card creators in this world were using energy stones. Energy they could neither feel nor directly manipulate.

They could only use their will to push energy from the pen into the crystal cards while inscribing. Like trying to pour water through a tube you couldn’t see into a container you couldn’t touch. Relying entirely on mental intention and experience.

It made the experience less intuitive. Less personal. Less dangerous than talisman creation since there was no risk of qi backlash, but infinitely more difficult. Especially if you had no one to guide you but a book.

And a poor boy like Lucien could never have afforded a teacher or apprenticeship. Card creation masters charged fees he couldn’t dream of paying. The Cardwright Union required substantial entry fees and recommendations to teach or submission of five cards to prove skill. Lucien had been completely alone in his attempts, with only this book and his desperation to drive him.

Lucien had made being a card creator his whole goal in life. Put all his hopes of changing his and his mother’s circumstances on that particular dream.

He’d been literate by grace and charity of the factory owner where Lucien’s father had worked and died. As a child surrounded by the poor and uneducated, Lucien had believed himself better. Bound for greatness because he could read and write when others in his social class couldn’t.

But coming into manhood had introduced him to the terrible truth. No matter how educated he became, it wouldn’t wash the stink of poverty off him in the eyes of society. To them, he wasn’t a promising hardworking young man but a street rat who dared to dream above his station.

The people wouldn’t accept Lucien and give him a chance to become what he wanted. And Lucien couldn’t accept that despite all his sacrifices and hard work, he would never be able to get a better place in society.

Broken and lost of hope, he’d decided to end it all.

Yang, being no stranger to loss and helplessness, understood. Even though he’d never let himself fall that far. Even in his darkest moments.

He thought of Grandpa Chen. An embrace and a weathered old hand cradling his head and smiled helplessly at the memory.

Time heals all wounds, Yang thought. Only if one gives time the opportunity to do its work.

It was a pity that Lucien had chosen to give up. But he refused to judge him. Everyone had their struggles. Their breaking points. Who was Yang to judge when he’d never walked in Lucien’s exact shoes?

Yang looked at the empty card in one hand and the inscription pen in the other. As he prepared to begin practicing card inscription, he couldn’t help but notice how similar it was to talisman creation. Similar enough to make him wonder if there was a deity far above writing his fate after all.

What were the chances that he’d get transported to a world with a power system most similar to the only cultivation skill he had any knowledge of?

Yang smiled to himself wryly.

I’m the little frog at the bottom of the well, he thought. Will I ever get a chance to see the world outside the well?

The question hung in his mind as he positioned the pen over the blank card. Ready to make his first attempt at this world’s magic.

Ready to see if his experience with talismans would translate to this new medium.

Yang took a breath. Focused his mind. And began to inscribe.

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