Dragon's Descent [Xianxia, Reverse Cultivation]

Dawn arrived like an overeager dinner guest—earlier than expected and bearing tidings that would complicate everyone's carefully laid plans.

Xiaolong stood at the edge of what the villagers optimistically called their "construction site," watching Li Feng prepare to demonstrate foundation techniques to an audience of farmers whose primary construction experience involved building chicken coops that occasionally remained upright through winter storms.

The irony was not lost on her that someone who had once commanded mountain ranges to relocate for aesthetic purposes now observed a young human attempting to convince stubborn earth to accept architectural suggestions through polite spiritual persuasion.

Li Feng positioned himself before a section of loose riverbank soil that would need to support the eastern barrier's primary anchor point. His breathing followed the disciplined rhythm of Azure Waters sect meditation, spiritual energy gathering like morning mist before the sun burned it away.

The villagers arranged themselves in a respectful semicircle, their attention focused on their young protector. They understood that their survival depended on techniques they could observe but never truly comprehend.

"Foundation work requires partnership between cultivator and earth," Li Feng explained, his voice carrying formal instruction despite addressing fishermen and vegetable farmers. "We don't force—we invite cooperation."

His hands moved through preparatory gestures—fluid motions that created invisible currents in the air around him. To normal human perception, the technique would manifest as graceful dance. To Xiaolong's enhanced senses, each movement created distinct resonances in the elemental forces, coaxing earth-essence into more agreeable arrangements.

Li Feng's palms descended toward the loose soil. The effect unfolded like watching time accelerate—loose earth compacted, random stones shifted into interlocking patterns, unstable surfaces transformed into solid foundation capable of supporting significant structural weight.

The villagers murmured appreciation, but Xiaolong noticed the sweat already beading on Li Feng's forehead. The technique was competent, elegant in its efficient application of sect principles.

Unfortunately, it was also consuming spiritual energy at a rate that his still-tender meridians could sustain for perhaps half an hour before requiring extended recovery.

She calculated the mathematics: three days to construct defenses requiring dozens of such applications, a single cultivator whose energy reserves remained compromised, and absolutely no margin for error or delay.

The numbers did not inspire confidence.

"That's solid work," Lingxin said, testing the newly settled earth. His carpenter's hands recognized structural integrity when they encountered it. "How long before it goes back to regular dirt?"

"Permanently set once the binding stabilizes," Li Feng replied, though his voice carried a slight strain that indicated the effort had cost him more than optimal. "The earth essence maintains the new configuration."

This was true, which made Li Feng's visible exhaustion all the more concerning. A technique that should require minimal effort for someone of his cultivation level was clearly drawing more deeply on his reserves than healthy.

"What about the rest of us?" Farmer Wong asked, his practical mind already working through logistics. "Those who've got some cultivation training?"

Li Feng considered this diplomatically. The village's minor cultivators possessed enthusiasm that far exceeded their technical knowledge—well-meaning amateurs whose assistance might prove more hindrance than help.

"Foundation settling requires precise energy control," he explained gently. "But there are supporting techniques that could reduce the overall burden."

He gestured toward Wong, whose earth-element affinity marked him as the village's most promising candidate for construction assistance. "Your earth-working could prepare the soil, reducing the refinement needed for foundation binding."

Wong stepped forward, his weathered hands forming the crude mudras of his self-taught technique. The movements lacked the sophisticated energy circulation of formal sect methods, but they accomplished their basic purpose—loosening compacted soil and clearing debris through determined earth manipulation.

Wong's approach involved considerably more physical exertion than spiritual finesse, his movements resembling someone attempting to wrestle stubborn livestock rather than commune with elemental forces. Nevertheless, the ground responded, churning and loosening under his assault.

"Good," Li Feng said, though Xiaolong noticed his diplomatic praise concealed mild concern about Wong's aggressive approach to earth-spirit relations. "Now maintain that preparation while I apply the settling technique."

The collaboration proved more successful than Xiaolong had anticipated. Wong's enthusiastic earth-churning created ideal conditions for Li Feng's more refined spiritual binding, reducing the energy required for each foundation point by nearly half.

Other villagers stepped forward to offer their own modest abilities.

Lingxin demonstrated his Wood-Joining Touch—a technique that encouraged wooden supports to grow together, creating joints stronger than traditional carpentry. Widow Cai contributed minor water affinity for creating spiritual channels that would guide flood runoff. The young Sun Chun even revealed a fledgling metal affinity, using his family's tool-sharpening techniques to prepare barrier components for spiritual imprinting.

Xiaolong observed this collective effort, noting how each participant contributed what skills they had for communal protection. She recognized the synergy of shared intent, the amplification of minor talents when applied with focused conviction.

The notion that each being had some unique value, however minute, and that value could be enhanced when combined with others of disparate skills fascinated her. Dragons recognized the supremacy of individual sovereignty—no other dragon's approval mattered; no other being's contribution outweighed one's own strength.

Humans reversed this proposition—their individual abilities seemed insignificant, yet achieved remarkable potency when united for collective well-being.

"Next section," Li Feng announced, moving toward another foundation point. His energy reserves had stabilized thanks to the distributed workload, though Xiaolong noted he was pacing himself carefully.

The morning progressed smoothly. Wong's earth-churning prepared soil while Li Feng applied foundation settling. Lingxin reinforced wooden framework elements, his Wood-Joining Touch creating seamless connections between support beams. Widow Cai carved spiritual channels that would guide excess water toward designated overflow areas.

The eastern barrier's primary anchor point took shape—a solid foundation capable of supporting the stone and earth construction that would redirect flood waters around the village rather than through it.

"This might actually work," Elder Duan observed, examining their progress approvingly. "Assuming we can maintain this pace."

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Li Feng nodded, though sweat continued to dampen his robes despite the collaborative assistance. "The foundation work is the most energy-intensive phase. Once the basic structure is established, the remaining construction requires primarily physical labor."

Xiaolong studied the sky, watching clouds continue to gather as distant thunder warned of coming storms. She debated when to broach the topic of her own assistance beyond passive observation.

Revealing more of her knowledge without betraying her full capabilities required careful timing and oblique presentation. Missteps could derail the fragile trust she and Li Feng had established, undermining their collaborative efforts when united focus was most essential.

Hui Yun materialized beside her, its glittering paws leaving spectral tracks in the air. The fox showed typical disregard for conventional expectations of physical presence, its appearance drawing startled glances from villagers unaccustomed to unexpected vulpine manifestations.

"If you don't do something soon, they'll all drown when those water spirits decide to play," Hui Yun whispered, its voice a melody that carried spiritual resonances she could decipher but no one else could detect. "It's not your fault that humans are inept at everything, of course. But still—very inconvenient."

Xiaolong frowned, annoyed but also recognizing the fox's oblique prompt to act. Hui Yun could be troublesome, but its interjections often provided insights that her own fixed perspectives overlooked.

"Perhaps it's time to offer some unconventional suggestions to our diligent friends," she murmured.

"Subtlety is advised," Hui Yun agreed. "Humans find omniscience disconcerting in travel companions."

"Your concern for my reputation is noted," she replied dryly. "Even when you continually try and sabotage it."

"My critiques are meant to enhance your reputation!" Hui Yun protested. "I'd simply rather you do it properly. When have I ever sabotaged anything?"

"Shall we list events chronologically, or in order of least to most catastrophic?"

Hui Yun chuckled, a sound that evoked ephemeral tinkling bells. "I shall leave you to handle the delicate matter of guiding lesser beings through existential crises."

With that, the fox disappeared in a flicker of multihued sparks, leaving behind the floral notes of its shifting spiritual aura.

Xiaolong approached Li Feng as he completed another foundation settling. He looked up as she approached, his expression showing faint curiosity at her active participation.

"I believe your approach is sound, but there are additional techniques that could enhance it," she began, framing her statement as intellectual exploration rather than directive. "I can... assist with applying these modifications, if you find that acceptable."

Li Feng raised an eyebrow, recognizing the subtext behind her offer. "What techniques are you suggesting?"

Xiaolong gestured toward the next foundation point.

"Observe, and I'll demonstrate."

She stepped forward, her stance reflecting the disciplined economy of motion characteristic of sect training. Though lacking Li Feng's formal education, her deep understanding of elemental principles provided its own efficacious methods, adapted for draconic anatomy.

Her hand descended, fingertips contacting the ground. She channeled earth essence into an exquisitely precise flow, shaping it according to profound knowledge of geomantic relationships.

Where Li Feng persuaded soil to settle, she commanded. Instead of encouraging cooperation, she co-opted the earth's elemental characteristics, overwriting minor variations for optimal alignment with her intentions.

When she withdrew her touch, the soil had transformed—its composition matched the most stable elements in the surrounding mountains, more bedrock than earth. She had transformed the ground into the ideal medium for enduring construction.

"An interesting technique," Li Feng observed, studying the result. "More... forceful than sect methods."

She nodded, recognizing the difference between sect philosophy and draconic pragmatism. Humans relied on cultivating elemental cooperation; dragons invoked elemental subservience.

"Sometimes efficacy requires direct intervention," she said. "Some problems respond better to command than suggestion."

Li Feng considered this. His reluctance was evident—he had internalized his sect's principles of respectful partnership with natural forces. To him, her method seemed something akin to coercion.

"Our goal is mutual benefit," he countered. "Not superiority through imposition."

"Indeed," Xiaolong agreed. "But mutual benefit occasionally requires direction. Sometimes to guide a child, you must first discipline them."

They regarded each other for several moments, their respective philosophies clashing.

"Perhaps... a blend of our approaches?" Li Feng finally suggested. "Sect principles as foundation, your technique as... occasional enhancement."

She nodded, recognizing his compromise as a pragmatic solution that protected his convictions while accepting aid that circumstances necessitated.

Together, they prepared the remaining foundation points. Li Feng's sect technique created the initial invitation to cooperation, while Xiaolong's intervention achieved stability that the earth's ephemeral nature could not sustain.

The other villagers worked around them, reinforcing beams and assembling framework according to Lingxin's design. It was slow, meticulous progress—but progress nonetheless.

By midday, the primary support structure neared completion. Wooden beams interlocked seamlessly, guided by Lingxin's wood affinity and Widow Cai's careful water channeling. Stone buttresses provided stability against flooding pressures.

It was crude by sect standards, but impressive considering the short timeline and amateur builders involved.

"This should hold," Li Feng said, inspecting their handiwork. "Or at least stand a reasonable chance."

"Every little bit helps," Lingxin agreed, adjusting a final joint with deft flicks of his fingers.

"Master Li Feng," Widow Cai called from her position near the river approach. "I think you should know—there are riders coming along the water path."

Li Feng straightened, his attention focused on the indicated route. "How many?"

"Six," she replied, shading her eyes against the midday sun. "Moving at steady pace, not rushed, but... they don't look like merchants or travelers."

Xiaolong's enhanced vision confirmed Widow Cai's assessment. Six mounted figures approached along the river path, their horses bearing the distinctive marks of borderland travel—mud-stained legs, rain-darkened coats, and the wary alertness of animals accustomed to uncertain terrain.

Their riders displayed similar characteristics. Travel-worn clothing, weapons positioned for quick access, and the confident bearing of people who expected others to step aside when they approached.

More concerning was what her enhanced hearing detected from their distant conversation—complaints about "flooded hideouts," discussions of "taxation opportunities," and references to "easy pickings" that indicated their intentions were less than charitable.

"Continue working," Li Feng instructed the villagers, his voice remaining calm despite the tension that suddenly charged the air around him. "Stay close to the construction site and keep your tools handy."

The villagers understood immediately. Construction tools could serve as improvised weapons if necessary, and the partially completed barrier would provide some defensive advantage if conflict proved unavoidable.

Li Feng moved toward the approaching riders, positioning himself between them and the villagers. His wooden sword remained in its sheath, but his hand rested casually on the hilt—a stance that projected readiness without open aggression.

Xiaolong remained with the construction crew, though her attention focused entirely on the approaching strangers. Her enhanced senses catalogued their spiritual signatures, weapon configurations, and tactical positioning as they drew closer.

The lead rider's cultivation base centered around corrupted water techniques—methods that drew power from polluted sources rather than clean spiritual energy. His associates showed earth and metal affinities, their combined abilities suggesting experience in breaking through defensive formations.

More concerning was the leader's evident familiarity with sect protocols and legal terminology she had detected in his conversation. This was not random banditry but organized criminal activity conducted by someone who understood how to exploit gaps in legitimate authority.

The riders approached at deliberate pace, their formation designed to create maximum psychological impact. The leader rode slightly ahead, flanked by two associates, while the remaining three spread out to control escape routes.

Professional intimidation techniques, executed by people who had clearly practiced similar approaches many times before.

"Remember," Li Feng called softly to the villagers, "construction accidents can be quite dangerous. Sharp tools, unstable ground, unexpected spiritual energy discharges..."

His meaning was clear. If violence erupted, environmental hazards might prove just as effective as direct combat—particularly if those hazards resulted from completely natural construction mishaps rather than deliberate cultivation techniques.