Cultivation? Xianxia? What?

Anyone who has been following my work for a while knows that I like writing urban fantasy. Hell, I’m writing an urban fantasy novel, Jericho Lott, right now! I’ve also got a space opera in the editing and revision phase that is about ready to go. So, announcing that I’m working on a Xianxia-inspired cultivation novel might well leave some people scratching their heads. Just the terminology alone is likely unfamiliar to many of you. So, because I like information and some of you may be wondering what it’s all about, I’m going to give you a very Eric-ified explanation of the key ideas you need to understand going into my Xianxia-inspired cultivation novel, Unintended Cultivator.

Xianxia

First up, we have Xianxia. Xianxia is actually a whole genre of fantasy fiction from China. For those who like this sort of thing, the term translates to something like “immortal heroes.” The short version is that the books focus on powerful warriors who have achieved some level of transcendence, granting them extremely long lives or even a kind of enhanced biological immortality, or those aspiring to it. For those not in the know, biological immortality means that you either stop aging or that aging doesn’t increase the odds of your dying.

These immortal or quasi-immortal heroes usually occupy a kind of semi-historical, semi-mythological China. The appearance of mythological beasts and even powerful supernatural beings is generally accepted or even expected. The efficacy of things like traditional Chinese medicine and alchemy is taken as a given. The heroes in these stories usually take it upon themselves to embark on dangerous tasks or have these tasks assigned to them.

Wuxia

Technically speaking, Xianxia is a sub-genre or offshoot of the Wuxia genre. Wuxia uses many of the same elements as Xianxia, but the genre is much more focused on martial arts. The heroes are generally mortal, although they may display signs of somewhat superhuman abilities. While more fantastical elements may appear, they are typically downplayed in favor of martial conflict.

Cultivation

The term cultivation can be interpreted in a couple of different ways. Within the confines of true Xianxia novels, the term generally means using a combination of Taoist or Buddhist insights, medicines, alchemy, and specific meditation techniques to boost or “cultivate” Qi. Qi or Ch’iis the vital life essence inside of everything. Assuming that the cultivator can accumulate enough qi, use the right medicinal or alchemical products, and achieve the right kinds of insights into the universe, they can “break through.” These breakthroughs enhance the lifespan, impart enhanced physical abilities like strength and speed, and allow the cultivator to use personal and environmental qi to perform various kinds of magic. For example, a cultivator with a particular insight into wind qi might call up windstorms.

Assuming that the cultivation process works as intended, the cultivator defies the heavens. The increased longevity and magical powers are, of course, outside the bounds of the natural order. Should the cultivator advance enough, though, they can achieve a kind of true immortality. Before they can do this, however, they will typically face a tribulation from the heavens. This typically means that the heavens rain down natural and spiritual threats that the cultivator must withstand. If the cultivator succeeds, they ascend and take their place in the heavens. It’s taken as a given that cultivation is dangerous. Advancing can easily injure or kill the hero. Moreover, sustained success is not a guarantee. The process can stall, leaving the cultivator with power and a long life but not the goal of immortality.

For the Western writer (me), these specific requirements of the Xianxia and cultivation genres pose some challenges. I’m not particularly up on Chinese mythology, ancient Chinese medicine, alchemy, or the specifics of Chinese culture. I am most certainly not an expert on Taoism or Buddhism, although I suspect I’m probably more conversant with them than many. So, where does that leave me?

That leaves me with the Xianxia-inspired cultivation novel. Rather than try to replicate the specific nuances of true Xianxia and cultivation novels, which I can’t, I’m going to write something that uses some of the tropes, superficially borrows some of the cultural elements, and treats cultivation like Western writers generally treat anything that gives you magic. It’s a kind of system that you can learn, either through study, instruction, or direct experience. I will not be setting the story in a quasi-historical, semi-mythological ancient China. There is simply way too much I don’t know to make that practical.

While I might, occasionally, borrow ideas from Buddhism or Taoism, I won’t be relying too heavily on them as part of the cultivation system. While spiritual insights may play a role, they’ll probably prove more naturalistic or personal.

Sects

The term sect doesn’t crop up all that often in Western culture. When Westerners encounter it at all, it’s usually in reference to a religious order. Within the Xianxia and cultivation novels, the term sect has a somewhat different and specific meaning. A sect is usually more like an independent micro-society focused on martial arts and cultivation. Different sects follow different martial and cultivation paths. In some cases, the differences are relatively minor. Two sects may approach the process with slightly different philosophical takes. In other cases, the differences may be profound, with one sect embracing abhorrent practices, such as using demonic qi or engaging in cannibalistic rites, while another embraces a more Buddhist path of compassion.

These sects generally operate with a lot of or near-complete independence from the “mortal governments” in the surrounding country. This is largely a byproduct of the longevity granted by cultivation. Even a low-level cultivator might live for two or three hundred years. A given sect might see the governing power in a place change hands dozens of times. As such, sect members often operate with a kind of latitude that everyday members of a society can only dream of.

Moving Forward

So, with all of that info-dumping out of the way, what kind of book can you expect? It’s going to be an adventure story, of course. Cultivators must face dangers, engage in battles, and gather experience if they want to advance. We’re picking up with the book’s hero, Sen, at the very beginning of his cultivation journey. While the first five or ten chapters might feel like they’re moving a little slow, things will pick up after that.