184 The Twin, Da Ji

184 The Twin, Da Ji

184 The Twin, Da Ji

The creek was empty.

I stood at the edge of the gently flowing water, staring at the rocks where Da Ji usually sat when she wanted to sulk or throw pebbles at frogs. No sign of her. Not even a ripple that hinted she’d been here recently. I scratched my head and glanced around, eyes narrowing.

“Where did that gloomy girl go?” I muttered.

Da Ji had a bad habit of wandering off. It wasn’t like she was adventurous… far from it. She just sort of... drifted. If I had to describe her with painful honesty, she was a bit of a dunce. Sweet, sure. Quiet, definitely. But she was about as directionally challenged as a spinning top with a blindfold. I worried about her, even if I tried not to show it. We might have been twins, but sometimes it felt like I had to play the role of both older brother and babysitter.

As I wandered through the forest path that looped back toward the village, my thoughts shifted back, dangerously and wistfully back to my past life. If I could have it my way, I’d return to that world, problems and all. Cultivators, sects, divine conflicts... At least there, I knew who I was and what I stood against.

Nongmin still owed me a beating, and the Heavenly Temple deserved a divine reckoning with interest. But no matter how I framed it in my mind, the desire to return was no longer as bright and burning. I had died there. I had become motes of light. Shouldn’t that have been the end?

And yet... here I was.

It was so unfair to retain memories of a past life you thought you were done with, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but thank my lucky stars for seeking that do-over. I was still mulling over these thoughts when a scream tore through the air, sharp, frightened, and unmistakably familiar.

“Da Ji!”

I didn’t think. I moved.

Even without my cultivation or legacy, I’d been practicing in secret, away from prying eyes. With the wealth of inherited, borrowed, and relived memories in my mind, I had techniques and disciplines far beyond this age… or any age. My body was still young, undeveloped, but I’d pushed it to its limits as best I could. Compared to average four-year-olds, I was a demon in disguise.

I burst forward with legs pumping with practiced rhythm. My breath was even, eyes locked on the sound. The world blurred around me as I moved, fast… maybe not adult-fast… but easily comparable to someone twice my age. It wasn’t about strength. It was about precision and efficiency. I’d trained my body to remember movements my muscles didn’t yet understand.

I skidded to a stop near the well just past the eastern slope.

And there she was… Da Ji was backed into the mossy stone ring, surrounded by three village brats. Chen Enlai stood front and center, arms crossed, his face twisted in the universal expression of a bully who thought he was the main character.

“Your brother owes us a beating,” he growled, puffing out his chest like a rooster.

Da Ji trembled, clearly terrified. She wasn’t one for confrontation. Enlai, despite being the youngest of the trio, was the de facto leader, mainly because he was absurdly strong for his age. Genetics? Dumb luck? Who knew.

“If you’re a man, you gotta fight!” Enlai declared, loud and proud.

I sighed, unimpressed.

“She’s a girl, you idiot!” I shouted, breaking into a slide tackle straight at him.

My leg swept his feet clean, and Enlai crashed face-first into the dirt with a satisfying thud. I popped up to my feet just in time to see Zhen, the chunky one, gearing up for his response.

“Hey! That’s unfair, no sneak attacks!” he shouted, pointing at me as if we were in a courtroom drama.

He charged with the subtlety of a drunk boar. “IRON BULL ATTACK!”

I rolled my eyes. Really?

His weight and momentum gave him the advantage in a straight clash, and I wasn’t planning on a fair fight anyway. Size mattered at this age, but I had a weapon they didn’t. It was called technique.

I executed a movement drawn from my reconstructed version of Flash Step. Not the true version, of course, I lacked the cultivation or mana to use any sort of flashy powers, but it was a purely physical approximation. From memory and practice, I had turned it into a grounded footwork skill.

In a single burst, I disappeared from Zhen’s vision and reappeared at his side. My foot kicked into the back of his knee. His body crumpled, and the poor boy rolled forward, crashing right into the still-dazed Enlai.

“Fatty Zhen, you’re so heavy!” Enlai wailed beneath him.

Then things got worse.

Duyi, the scrawniest of the trio, had snuck behind Da Ji and now had her in a rear chokehold. His arms barely reached around her neck, but he was determined.

“Don’t move, or your precious brother is gonna get it!” he shouted, his voice cracking with every syllable.

I frowned. “Duyi, your voice is trembling. And just so you know, Da Ji’s my sister, not my brother.”

Da Ji blinked. “I’m a girl?”

I froze. “Wait… what?”

She tilted her head. “What is a girl?”

“They have long hair like you, like mom… that’s a girl.”

“So if I cut my hair, I’ll be a boy just like you, right, big bro?”

I nearly collapsed. My hand slapped my face before I could stop it. “No, Da Ji. The long hair isn’t what makes you a girl. You’re just... born a girl. That’s how it works!”

She looked up at me with all the innocence of a confused sheep. “So if I grow a beard like Dad, I’ll be a man?”

I was too stunned to reply.

That gave Duyi the confidence to start laughing, high-pitched and manic. “AHAHAHAHA! Bow down to the great Duyi and call me father, Little Wei!”

My patience was wearing thin.

But before I could move, Da Ji calmly reached up, grabbed Duyi’s pinky finger, twisted it like she was turning a stubborn knob, and flipped him over her shoulder.

Whump.

He landed hard, face-first into the grass.

I just stood there, eyes twitching.

Enlai gasped. “So... she does know martial arts?!”

I facepalmed again.

I’d spent the last four years carefully building a quiet life. Laying low. Not revealing too much. Keeping secrets. And now Da Ji had gone and blown the lid off it with the most casual throw I’d ever seen.

“Da Ji,” I said slowly, “how long have you been practicing?”

She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. Sometimes, when I dream, I see you practicing and I just... do the same. Is that bad?”

I stared at her, completely floored.

Da Ji might’ve been slow, bless her heart, but she was absolutely taken by martial arts in her own small ways. I didn’t know when it started exactly, but I remember the first time she caught me practicing.

I thought I’d been careful. I’ve been practicing in a secluded grove with no one around. But suddenly, there she was, peeking from behind the trees like some tiny specter with messy hair and drool at the corner of her mouth.

“I won’t tell Mom,” she’d whispered conspiratorially. “But only if you show me how to do that punchy spinny thing.”

Naturally, I was alarmed. Then suspicious. Then cornered.

So, I caved.

Not because I trusted her that much, but because if she did tell Mom, there’d be hell to pay. So I showed her a thing or two. The most basic of basics. Palm strikes. Steady footwork. Breathing.

Since then, our “play” consisted of me doing forms and her watching, eyes shining like she was seeing a stage performance. She never once mimicked me, never once practiced in front of me.

Which is why when she flipped Duyi like a bag of rice, I nearly lost my footing.

“Please teach me martial arts!” Enlai was already kowtowing, forehead pressed to the dirt like Da Ji was a sect elder. “Master Da Ji, please give this disciple instructions!”

Fatty Zhen and the still-groaning Duyi scrambled beside him and repeated, “Master Da Ji, teach us too!”

Da Ji, proud as a peacock, placed her hands on her hips and declared, “It’s easy! You go bam-bam! Pew-pew!” She began punching the air in rather familiar forms.

Silence.

The three stared at her, dumbfounded, their brains visibly short-circuiting. Then, slowly and horrifyingly, they all turned to face me.

“Master Da Wei!” they cried in unison, “Please teach us martial arts!”

I backed away like they were rabid chickens.

“For the hundredth time… nooooo!” I shouted, voice cracking.

It wasn’t even an exaggeration. They’d been after me for weeks now, ever since the “incident.”

See, it started with them being typical bullies. They’d corner me, demand snacks, and poke my forehead with sticks. Most days, I’d prank them until they cried… ants in their clothes, mud traps, you name it. But one day, I wasn’t just in the mood. A thunderstorm had kept me up, my stomach had been empty, and I just... snapped.

With one sweep of movement, I floored all three of them in what could only be described as unnecessarily flashy martial arts.

Big mistake.

Back to the present…

“We’re gonna tell your mom!” Enlai had threatened, hand clutching his bruised shoulder. “Teach us martial arts!”

“My mom doesn’t need to know.” Now, as they begged again before me, I crouched down like a thug from some back alley and whispered with all the menace I could muster, “Choose. Your index finger or your middle finger.”

Enlai blinked at me, confused.

Obviously, I had no intention of actually hurting them. But a bit of fear? That was just good management.

To sell the illusion, I held my own hand up and grabbed my index finger.

With a jerk and an internal grimace, I dislocated it, letting out a crack that echoed far louder than I expected. Pain shot through me like a lightning bolt, but I kept my face stoic.

“That’s going to be you,” I said through gritted teeth, “if you don’t behave.”

Their faces went pale like candle wax. Zhen and Duyi shrieked and ran for their lives, tripping over each other as they disappeared into the tree line.

Only Enlai remained.

To his credit, he didn’t run. He wiped his nose with his sleeve, puffed out his chest, and declared, “I’m not going away! I’m strong! I can jump really high, and I can knock out an adult!”

I reset my finger with a hiss and looked him in the eye.

“You’re an orphan, right?” I asked softly now.

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“You weren’t born in this village either, huh?”

He shook his head slowly.

I sighed. “You might not know this, but the villagers here are scared of martial arts. They’ll smile to your face, sure, but they don’t want their kids learning anything they can’t control. If you start doing anything suspicious… if you get into trouble… It’s the parents who took you in that will suffer.”

Enlai's lip trembled.

“I can’t teach you,” I added. “Not because I don’t want to. But because I don’t want to be the reason you lose your home.”

That did it. The brave front collapsed. Enlai turned and ran, tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving me with a strange mix of guilt and relief.

Behind me, Da Ji spoke up.

“Bro... couldn’t you have just taught him? It looked easy.”

I turned slowly and grabbed her ear.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow!”

“You lied to me,” I said, twisting ever so slightly. “You said you had no interest in martial arts.”

“I give up, I give up!” she wailed, tapping my arm in surrender.

I released her, and she rubbed her ear with teary eyes and a pout.

“So?” I asked.

She blinked. “So what?”

I grabbed the ear again.

“Ow-ow-ow! Not again!”

We reached the creek not long after the chaos died down.

It was a quiet little spot, lined with smooth stones and whispering reeds. A place where frogs croaked like old men and dragonflies darted like tiny sword spirits. It was where Da Ji and I usually played, tossed rocks, and told tall tales of ghosts and immortals.

I plopped down on my favorite flat stone, its surface warm from the sun, and Da Ji followed suit, sitting beside me like a shadow with tangles for hair.

Without thinking, I picked up a pebble and flicked it at the water. It skipped… one, two, three… before sinking with a quiet plop.

Da Ji watched it with mild interest, then turned to me and asked, “What did I do wrong?”

Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet for her usual tone. That made me glance her way.

“Nothing really,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe... keeping secrets from me?”

I smiled faintly, trying not to sound too annoyed.

“But seriously, you did amazing. That was one clean move. Disarmed Duyi without breaking a bone. Efficient, low harm. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

She went silent. That kind of silence that stretched. It was heavy and awkward. I turned slightly, just enough to see her from the corner of my eye. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. She looked troubled.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted, but it didn’t carry the weight of truth. Just tiredness. Or maybe confusion.

I let the silence return for a bit, then asked gently, “Do you like martial arts?”

She hesitated.

“I don’t really like it,” she said at last. “Because... its intention is to hurt people.”

That surprised me. A little philosophical for someone who barely knew left from right last year.

“But I know I’ll be good at it,” she added. “If anything... I guess the only thing I like about it is how graceful it is.”

Ah.

That made sense.

Da Ji wasn’t the kind to enjoy fighting. But beauty? Fluidity? Art? That was her kind of thing. She was the sort who'd stare at a leaf dancing in the wind and forget she was in the middle of carrying water.

I leaned back on my hands and sighed.

Honestly, if it were up to me, I’d already be back in the Hollowed World. Yeah, it was messed up. Yeah, it chewed people up and spat out their bones like sunflower seeds. But it was home to me. It was familiar. I still had unfinished business there. Nongmin still needed to be humbled. The Heavenly Temple... ugh.

But here I was.

Four years old again.

And my cultivation talent? Sucked! I wasn’t even being dramatic. Whether I followed the Mana Road or stuck with proper Qi Cultivation methods, I hit the same wall every time. I could barely reach the First Star of the Martial Tempering Realm, and that was with all the memory-cheating and reincarnation hacks I had going for me.

Of course, for a four-year-old, that was impressive. But compared to the monsters that'd start popping out of the woodwork once fate decided to pull its pants down again?

It was a joke.

Still, no use rushing. I wasn’t getting out of this world any time soon, so why not settle in for a side quest or two?

Like raising my twin sister. And keeping her out of trouble.

I glanced at Da Ji, who was now absently poking at the moss with a stick.

“Hey,” I said, nudging her shoulder, “wanna learn to dance?”

She blinked. “Dance?”

“Yeah,” I said, standing up and stretching. “Or maybe start with aerobics. Helps with balance and grace, might even make you better at martial arts. You know, bam-bam, pew-pew... but prettier.”

She tilted her head. “What’s dance? Can you eat it?”

I laughed.

“No, dummy,” I said, ruffling her hair. “But it might feed your soul.”

She frowned. “That sounds stupid.”

“It is stupid,” I agreed. “That’s what makes it fun.”

She stared at me for a long second. Then nodded.

“Okay. Let’s do the eat-soul thing.”

I sighed. “Close enough.”