Bing Meilu walked through Jiang City, ignoring the whispers of pointing children. Despite the name, Jiang City was more of a small town, only given such a grand name because the Jiang Family who ruled it would feel slighted if it was referred to as anything less. In the end, the town was small enough that rumours spread as fast as wildfire and already news of her encounter with the boys bullying Zhang Yi had been told and retold a hundred times.

However, Bing Meilu was not perturbed by the derision of the small mortal children. She instead made her way to the same place she had met Zhang Yi, a lone tree in the middle of a wide, grassy field.

The young boy stood there, the wind blowing through his ebony hair. He stared at her silently as she approached.

Today would be the first of the lessons Bing Meilu had promised Zhang Yi. It was slightly annoying to have to waste her time instructing a mortal boy, but having him follow her around like a baby duckling would be far more annoying.

Bing Meilu bit her lip slightly, deep in thought. She knew thousands of martial arts, courtesy of her unending lifespan, but none were suitable for a mortal, much less a child. Bing Meilu sifted through her memories, selecting the weakest martial art she could remember.

It was a rather weak martial art known as the Nine Heavenly Stances of the Immemorial Palace Gate, and Bing Meilu had trained in it back when she was only at the peak of the Immortal Realm, Dao Decimating.

"Good morning Junior Sister Bing," Zhang Yi greeted.

Bing Meilu raised her eyebrow at the form of address. Zhang Yi was in all likelihood older than her, so for him to address her as Junior Sister was technically proper. However, while Bing Meilu could swallow her pride and allow herself to be referred to something other than 'Your Highest Majesty' or 'Your Utmost Excellency', she drew the line at being called a Junior of this little boy.

"Call me Senior Sister Bing," Bing Meilu instructed tonelessly. "And I will call you Junior Brother Zhang."

The quiet boy nodded his head wordlessly, unperturbed about his shift downwards in the hierarchy.

"Now, Junior Brother Zhang, how much training do you have in fighting?" Bing Meilu inquired.

The boy had been beaten brutally the day before, so Bing Meilu assumed he lacked any training in the martial way.

"... None," Zhang Yi admitted, confirming Bing Meilu's thoughts. "Is that bad?"

"No, it just means I don't have to break you out of any bad habits," Bing Meilu answered, shaking her head.

Any training in lowly martial arts would only hinder him from comprehending the profundity of the Nine Heavenly Stances of the Immemorial Palace Gate, his body and mind accustomed to using lesser arts.

"Now, tell me, do you know what the Nine Palaces are?" Bing Meilu questioned.

Surprisingly, Zhang Yi nodded affirmatively.

"Yes, the Nine Palaces are the nine experiences in life that allows one to attain enlightenment. The Palaces are Health, Wealth, Prosperity, Relationships, Creativity, Travel, Employment, Family and Wisdom. Once one has 'passed' through each of the Nine Palaces-." Zhang Yi said.

"You don't need to explain the Nine Palaces to me, I already know what they are," Bing Meilu cut off. "However, I would like to know where you learned about them."

While the Nine Palaces were not exactly an obscure or esoteric concept, it was doubtful that a peasant boy like Zhang Yi would have stumbled across them normally.

"My grandfather used to volunteer at the Daoist temple and sweep up incense ashes. He picked up a few things and sometimes taught them to me," Zhang Yi shrugged noncommittally.

"I see then," Bing Meilu nodded. "Then this will be a lot easier for me. The technique I will be teaching you is known as the Nine Heavenly Stances of the Immemorial Palace Gate. Each stance conforms to one of the Nine Palaces, and once you master all nine, you will attain ultimate mastery over the trials and tribulations of life."

"... That sounds rather gaudy and over-exaggerated," Zhang Yi stated questioningly.

"Do you want to learn it or not?" Bing Meilu asked coldly.

"I do!" Zhang Yi quickly responded.

"Then stop questioning it," Bing Meilu ordered. "I will now begin training you in the first stance, which pertains to the palace of Prosperity."

"Straighten your shoulders... Legs wider apart... Loosen those muscles..." immediately Bing Meilu got to work on instructing Zhang Yi.

She first fixed his stance, posture and form, then moving on to show him how to walk and run without having to leave stance.

Bing Meilu was pleasantly surprised at how fast of a learner Zhang Yi was for a mortal. He picked up new concepts like a sponge absorbed water. At this rate, she could finish their deal in only a few weeks instead of the months she had expected.

Bing Meilu was, of course, not planning on teaching him the entire martial art, only the basics and foundations. Any of the actual techniques or moves would require an active cultivation base and Qi to spare. Nevertheless, just the basic forms should be enough to deal with the petty bullies that had assaulted him yesterday- and splashed blood on her eminent self.

"Now, that's all for today," Bing Meilu stated. "Leave so that I may begin my meditation."

Zhang Yi nodded wordlessly, turning away to leave. Bing Meilu sighed in relief.

"Now I can finally get to meditation," Bing Meilu sighed, closing her eyes.

---

Zhang Yi walked alone through the streets of Jiang City. His well-worn robes waved in the wind, far too large for his thin and slim body. They had been hand-me-downs from his grandfather's own youth since Zhang Yi could not afford to get a new pair.

The boy continued walking until he reached a dimly lit alleyway. He stepped inside of it, slowly making his way to the dead-end at the back of the alley. There lay a small, humble shrine. A pot of rice next to a bundle of flowers and some sticks of cheap incense.

Zhang Yi kneeled before the shrine, grabbing one of the sticks of incense. He placed it in a crudely made, hand-carved wooden holder while grabbing a pair of flintstones. Zhang Yi began to crack the flintstones together, small sparks flying off them and onto the stick of incense. It took several minutes of repeated attempts for the incense to light, but once it did, Zhang Yi bowed deeply towards the shrine.

"Good morning, grandfather," Zhang Yi said morosely.

Zhang Yi had been born an orphan, his mother a prostitute who died in childbirth, and his father nowhere to be seen. He had been adopted by Zhang Lu, his grandfather, who ran a small antique shop. Although they had not been wealthy, they had been happy.

However, that had not lasted forever. Zhang Y's grandfather had died, ostensibly of old age, but Zhang Yi knew the truth. His grandfather had been killed, over the very copper coin that now hung around Zhang Yi's neck.

It had been sold to them by a mysterious passerby, along with a well-made mahogany box and Zhang Lu, deciding it was not very valuable, had fashioned it into a necklace for Zhang Yi.

The next night a thief had broken into the shop, taking nothing but the mahogany box, and leaving Zhang Yi's grandfather dead.

Since that day, Zhang Yi had lost everything. His grandfather had died and the shop had been stolen by the Jiang family. Even the engagement he had with the daughter of a well to do merchant had been torn to shreds.

Zhang Yi had survived on the streets, doing odd jobs in return for food or meagre pay, and enduring relentless bullying by other children.

"One day, I will take revenge for you, grandfather," Zhang Yi swore to the shrine, standing up.

The young boy left the alleyway, walking back through the city. He needed to find a job if he wanted to eat anything today. As Zhang Yi walked, he began to feel an uncomfortable tingling on the back of his neck. The boy immediately spun around, seeing Li Renlong and his three bootlickers.

Of all the people who tormented Zhang Yi, none were crueller than Li Renlong. It was his sister that Zhang Yi had been engaged to and the day their engagement had been cancelled, the boy had begun to assault Zhang Yi.

"As grandfather used to say," Zhang Yi muttered, begging to run away. "The fastest way to win a fight is to avoid it!"

Zhang broke into a mad sprint, desperately running from Li Renlong, who began to follow in turn.

Suddenly, a fist slammed into the side of his face, knocking Zhang Yi to the ground. Zhang Yi looked up to see Li Jinglong standing above him grinning cruelly.

Li Jinglong did not often involve himself in the attacks on Zhang Yi, but when he did, they were always far more brutal.

By then, Li Renlong and his subordinates had arrived, laughing to themselves.

"That witch isn't here to save you now, little worm," Li Renlong laughed.

Zhang Yi slowly stood up, eyeing the five boys warily. Subconsciously, his body shifted into the stance that Senior Sister Bing had taught him.

"She's not a witch," Zhang Yi objected, frowning.

Bing Meilu had been the only person to save him, even if she hadn't really meant to. That automatically made her a very good person in Zhang Yi's opinion.

"Do you really have the face to attack me now, after having run away from a small girl?" Zhang Yi asked. "I suppose, if I had known that small girls were your secret weakness, I could have finished you off ages ago."

"That's funny coming from the person less intimidating than a small girl," Li Jinglong laughed stepping forward. "I suppose now that you've realized my sister is too good for an urchin like you, you've begun to pursue that witch?"

Zhang Yi narrowed his eyes, suddenly dodging to the side, a fist missing his head by mere millimetres.

Although Zhang Yi didn't know this, couldn't know this, the Nine Heavenly Stances of the Immemorial Palace Gate was far beyond any ordinary martial art. It was a technique inherently connected to the universal principle of 'the Nine Palaces', and simply by training in the most basic stance of it, he had begun to draw on the power inherent in such a concept.

Specifically, he had begun to train in the first stance of 'prosperity'. Bad luck had begun to shed from him, washing away from his body like water over a lotus leaf. At the same time, good fortune had begun to abound around him.

Dozens of blows shot at Zhang Yi, each missing him by only a hair's breadth, as he nimbly dodged each attack.

Zhang Yi's own fist shot back in retaliation, slamming into Li Jinglong's left shoulder.

Li Jinglong, who had recently injured his left shoulders in a spar, screamed as the old wound flared up. Zhang Yi ducked, slamming another punch into Li Jinglong's... 'family jewels'.

"Aaah!" the older boy screamed, falling to the ground.

Zhang Yi turned left, sweeping his foot at the legs of one of the boys who followed Li Renlong. The boy fell to the floor, only for Zhang Yi to stomp roughly on his ankle joint, a loud snapping sound erupting as the bone popped out of its socket.

Sobbing sounds filled the air as the injured nursed their wounds, Zhang Yi jumping backwards to avoid a wild swing from Li Renlong.

He looked down noticing an empty glass bottle, that had once likely stored alcohol. Zhang Yi picked up the glass bottle, jumping forward to slam it down on Li Renlong's head.

The bottom end of the glass smashed onto Li Renlong's head, knocking him to the floor.

Left with a now jagged bottle of glass, Zhang Yi glared at the final boy, who gulped fearfully.

"Get out of here," Zhang Yi stated, imitating the cold authoritative tone of his teacher as best he could.

The final boy nodded nervously, before turning on his heel and running away as fast as he could.

Zhang Yi sighed, dropping the bottle onto the floor.

That had been the first time he had ever beaten off his assailants. Zhang Yi was a slim, sickly boy, primarily due to his malnutrition. He simply couldn't put out the raw power of the wealthier children who could afford to eat each day.

"I suppose sometimes technique beats brute force," Zhang Yi smiled.

He had his teacher to thank for this. not only had she saved him, but she had even taught him how to hold off the Li Jinglong and his friends.

"I wonder where teacher learnt how to fight like that?" Zhang Yi muttered.

He hadn't even noticed the fact he had subconsciously begin to refer to Bing Meilu as 'Teacher' rather than 'Senior Sister', her status in his eyes rising beyond that of someone from the same generation.

---

Bing Meilu yawned as she stood up, stretching her dainty limbs. It was already almost evening, the sun lazily falling down the horizon, illuminating the sky a dim orange.

Yang Qi would slowly decline as the solar luminary fell and the lunar luminary rose, the air filling with chilling Yin Qi.

Bing Meil had always thought that dusk was a beautiful moment, to those sensitive to Qi underlying the world. One could observe as Yin and Yang mingled in the air, forming profound transformation in the cycle of existence. Disappointingly, Bing Meilu, as a mortal, was now blind to those beautiful astral phenomena.

The ten-year-old girl shook her head, clearing away the nostalgia. She could reminisce later.

Bing Meilu began to make her way back to her family farmhouse on the outskirts of town. As she walked she caught sight of a cultivator dressed in robes that marked him as an outer disciple of the Heroic Dive Sect. The young man swaggered arrogantly across the road towards Jiang City, his wide robes fluttering in the wind. Bing Meilu shook her head disdainfully. Someone that weak actually walked so arrogantly?

"Don't block the road, trash," Bing Meilu remarked offhandedly as she passed the cultivator.

Feng Xiaochun stopped still in shock as he heard the casual remark from the small girl. As a cultivator from the 11th ranked Heroic Dive Sect, he was not unused to being looked down upon but...

"Did a mortal girl just call me trash?" Feng Xiaochun asked himself, still stunned, before shaking his head. "I must have drunk too much today. Time to head back to the sect."