Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator-Chapter 91: Rivalry and Animosity

The smallest actions often reveal the truest character. A moment of impulsive kindness may accomplish what years of careful planning cannot. Watch not what people do when they have time to consider, but what they do when instinct alone guides their hand.

—Master Yan Hui, Teacher of Common Wisdom

Su Yin slammed another useless manual shut, sending a puff of dust into the air. The ancient texts surrounding her in the dimly lit archive held thousands of herb descriptions, but none matched what she sought. Her grandmother’s permission to access the restricted section should have given her an advantage, yet time slipped away like sand through her fingers.

The memory of Lin Xiulan’s perfect answers burned in her mind. A complete novice—according to whispered conversations with other disciples—had outperformed years of dedicated study. The rumors painted an alarming picture: violence in Elder Chang Liu’s combat class, attacking senior disciples, and now this inexplicable mastery of rare herbs.

“Breathe.” Su Yin exhaled sharply and reached for another bamboo scroll. The delicate paper crackled under her touch as she unrolled it.

During the test, when Grandmother Wang displayed three extremely rare specimens that no one in their class should have heard of or learned about.

She had recognized one thanks to her Grandmother’s personal tutoring. Victory had seemed certain.

Then Xiulan identified two.

Su Yin’s fingers tightened on the scroll’s edges. “How?” The word escaped as barely more than a whisper. Her grandmother’s teasing laughter echoed in her memory, along with the passing of the archive key.

The shelves of ancient manuals loomed like silent sentinels. Somewhere within lay the answer—it had to. Grandmother wouldn’t have directed her here otherwise. Su Yin closed her eyes, picturing the precise details of the inked illustrations from the test: the distinctive branching pattern of the tree, the unique leaf arrangement of the herb.

Su Yin traced the inked drawings in her mind again. Xiulan couldn’t have accessed these archives—she’d checked the entrance logs herself.

The tree resembled a sect treasure, too valuable for common knowledge. The herb offered more promise.

Sand trickled through the hourglass on her desk. Time had run out for today.

Su Yin returned the scrolls to their proper places, straightening each one with practiced precision. The familiar scent of aged paper and preservation incense filled her senses as she organized the workspace.

Stepping out into the courtyard of the Herb Hall’s senior outer disciples brought a wave of fresher scents. Neat rows of medicinal plants stretched across carefully tended beds, their familiar shapes and scents soothing her frustration.

The dining hall buzzed with evening activity. Su Yin collected her bowl of fragrant rice and steamed vegetables from the servers.

“Su Yin!” Yang Hui’s enthusiastic wave caught her attention. His dark hair fell across his forehead as he gestured, the sleeves of his robe slightly too large for his modest stature. He sat with Zhen Kai at their usual table near the window.

Su Yin settled onto the wooden bench beside them. The familiar aroma of herbs clung to Zhen Kai’s work clothes from his morning gathering duties. His broad shoulders and calloused hands showed the physical toll of hours spent harvesting medicinal plants. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

“Did you hear about that person?” Zhen Kai leaned forward, amber eyes bright with gossip beneath his short black hair.

“Which person?” Su Yin picked up her chopsticks.

“The visiting elder’s disciple,” Yang Hui interjected.

Su Yin suppressed an internal groan. Even here, she couldn’t escape that girl’s shadow.

“What about Lin Xiulan?” Su Yin stabbed her rice with her chopsticks.

Yang Hui and Zhen Kai exchanged glances. “You know her?”

Stolen story; please report.

Su Yin’s eyes narrowed. “Did you both hit your heads? She won the opening herb class test and took the pill cauldron.” And Grandmother’s respect, she added silently, the thought igniting a bitter spark in her chest.

“Oh, that was the same person?” Zhen Kai scratched his head. “I didn’t even realize.”

“She’s been doing a lot lately,” Yang Hui said, leaning forward. “Now she’s selling food outside the pavilion to cultivators and mortals. Drew quite the crowd yesterday.”

Su Yin paused mid-bite, her chopsticks hovering over her bowl. “Who cares? What business is it of yours to gossip? If she’s making a profit, isn’t that what Treasure Pavilion is about?”

“Well, word travels fast, especially because people were interested.” Yang Hui pushed his vegetables around on his plate. “Lin Xiulan made some enemies.”

“Enemies?” Su Yin’s hand brushed her bowl absently, her appetite fading.

“That disciple she thrashed—Lei Shan?” Zhen Kai lowered his voice, leaning closer. “His buddies just left to teach her a lesson. Made quite the show of heading out together.”

“What nonsense is this?” Su Yin said.

Yang Hui chuckled nervously. “I know, right? But the seniors are ignoring it since she’s an outsider. Technically, she’s in the city market, not on pavilion grounds.”

Su Yin’s chopsticks paused halfway to her mouth as she considered the strange eagerness in Yang Hui’s voice. “How do you know so much about this?”

“Maybe because you’ve been hiding in the archives all week?” Zhen Kai pointed his chopsticks at her. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

“And no one’s stopping it?” Su Yin frowned, the knot in her stomach tightening. “They just walked out to confront her? What about her senior sister?”

Zhen Kai shrugged. “That’s why we brought it up. They just left.”

Yang Hui nodded. “They’re doing it because her senior sister is out of the city, went on some mission.”

Su Yin’s chair scraped back suddenly as she stood.

“Hey! You barely touched your food!” Yang Hui called after her, startled.

Ignoring him, Su Yin strode toward the pavilion exit, her steps brisk, her thoughts already racing toward the market beyond.

She slowed her steps as the cool evening air brushed against her face outside Treasure Pavilion. What possessed her to rush out like this? The whole situation seemed ridiculous—she’d abandoned her dinner to do what, exactly?

Watch her rival in herbology get thrashed?

The market square ahead buzzed with evening activity. Cultivators and mortals crowded the streets, their voices mixing with the sizzle of cooking fires and clink of coins. A gathering of disciples near the corner caught Su Yin’s eye.

Five Guardian Hall disciples had formed a loose circle around a food cart, their presence scattering potential customers who hurried past with averted eyes. The tantalizing scent of perfectly seasoned meat made Su Yin’s empty stomach growl in protest.

Su Yin stopped short. Behind the cart stood Lin Xiulan—the same Lin Xiulan who had shown her up in class—wearing a plain white apron over her cultivation robes.

Xiulan sliced vegetables with practiced precision, dropping them into a sizzling wok while pointedly ignoring the disciples surrounding her. Though her face remained composed, her knife strokes grew increasingly forceful with each cut.

“Hey, fancy cook!” One of Lei Shan’s friends stepped closer, his voice carrying across the market. “Too good to acknowledge your seniors?”

Xiulan’s shoulders tensed as she continued cooking, her knife strokes becoming sharper, more precise. The disciples crowded closer, their taunts growing louder. Nearby shoppers scattered, creating a widening circle of empty space around the confrontation.

Su Yin’s stomach knotted. Five against one—this would end badly. Even with whatever combat skills Xiulan had shown against Lei Shan, these odds meant likely defeat. And fighting in the public market? The pavilion elders would punish everyone severely.

Master Qingfeng might banish Xiulan to some remote training ground, or sentence her to weeks of solitary meditation in the sealed caverns beneath the pavilion. Perhaps even exile her to a resource-gathering outpost in the wilderness.

And then—

She would never learn how Xiulan had recognized those herbs.

Her hand moved before her mind caught up. The small pouch of burning eye root powder flew from her fingers, striking the ground between Lei Shan’s friends with a dull thud. Red powder exploded outward in a choking cloud.

The disciples scattered, cursing and rubbing their streaming eyes. Su Yin froze, horrified by what she’d just done.

A coughing figure emerged from behind the food cart. Xiulan stalked toward her, fists clenched. “How pathetic are you?” she snarled between coughs. “Holding such a petty grudge that you’d sabotage my business worse than those thugs!”

Panic seized Su Yin’s chest. This wasn’t what she intended at all.

“Wait!” Su Yin raised both hands. “I threw the powder at Lei Shan’s group, not at your cart!”

Xiulan paused mid-step, red powder dusting her white apron. “What?”

“They came to cause trouble.” Su Yin pointed at the disciples stumbling away from the scene. “I overheard their plans at dinner.”

“You...” Xiulan brushed powder from her sleeves. “Why would you help me?”

The words caught in Su Yin’s throat. How could she admit to combing through archives for days, obsessing over Xiulan’s inexplicable herb knowledge? “I—”

A gust of wind sent more burning eye root powder swirling through the air. Su Yin sneezed violently, her eyes watering. “Perhaps we should move away from the powder first?”

“Your timing needs work.” Xiulan grabbed Su Yin’s arm and pulled her toward the food cart. “But thank you. Even if your method was... unconventional.”

“I didn’t plan this.” Su Yin wiped her streaming eyes. “When I saw them surrounding you, I just reacted. The powder was for a garden pest repellent I’m developing.”

“You carry garden supplies to dinner?” Xiulan raised an eyebrow.

Heat crept up Su Yin’s neck. “I always carry useful items. You never know when—” Another sneeze interrupted her explanation.