Jason slipped back into the tent without incident, the five low-grade ginseng roots still wrapped in rough cloth against his side. He set them carefully on the low wooden stool and stared at the pale, knotted shapes for a long moment. A small, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the uninjured corner of his mouth.
"With these," he muttered under his breath, "breaking through to the second layer shouldn't be a problem."
The tent flap rustled. Hannah stepped inside, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and stopped when she saw him standing there with his back to her.
"Big brother—you're finally back."
Jason turned. "Where's Mother?"
Hannah's gaze dropped to the dirt floor. She scuffed one bare foot against the other. "I don't know. Maybe she went to ask that elder in the Fox family for a little more coin…"
Before Jason could answer, the flap moved again. Clara stepped through, moving with the same careful economy of motion she always used now. She took one look at her children's faces and arched a thin brow.
"What is it that makes you both look for me as though I'm a child who needs watching?"
Jason's expression brightened. He lifted the cloth bundle and opened it so she could see the roots. "You're back. Look what I managed to get."
Clara's eyes softened as she examined the ginseng. She nodded once. "Good. Brew it properly after intense training. Only then will you draw out its full strength."
"I'll do it right now," Jason said, already turning.
"Big brother, wait for me—" Hannah hurried after him, the two of them disappearing into the soft dark beyond the tent.
---
Long before the rest of the camp stirred, Jason was already at work.
A thick tree branch jutted out not far from their tent, low enough to reach, strong enough to bear his weight. He gripped it with both hands and began to pull himself upward, chin clearing the wood, then lowered again in a controlled descent. The night air was cool against his skin. Sweat soon sheened his arms and back.
"One hundred… one hundred twenty…"
His count stayed steady even as the burn in his shoulders and forearms grew sharper. The bruises from Andrew's fists still ached, but he refused to let them slow him. Every repetition was a quiet refusal of the weakness that had left him bleeding in the dirt.
By the time the eastern sky began to pale, he had passed three hundred. His arms trembled. Sweat dripped from his chin and darkened the earth beneath him. Still he continued.
"Three hundred twenty…"
His muscles screamed. Numbness crept into his fingers. He could have stopped. Anyone else would have stopped. Instead he clenched his jaw harder and pulled himself up again, then again, the words he had repeated since childhood driving each motion: *Only when I force my body past its limit will it answer.*
Four hundred. Four hundred thirty. Four hundred fifty.
The sun had cleared the treeline when the change came.
A sudden, fierce heat bloomed deep in his core, racing outward through every exhausted muscle and bone. The crushing fatigue vanished as though someone had poured liquid fire into his veins and replaced pain with pure, surging strength. Jason's eyes widened. He tightened his grip on the branch, swung his body forward with new power, released, and flipped cleanly through the air. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, steady as a cat.
His skin felt denser. His limbs answered him with a sharpness that had not existed an hour before. The second layer of the tempered body.
Soft clapping broke the morning quiet.
Jason turned. Hannah stood a short distance away, barefoot in the dew, grinning as she brought her hands together again and again.
"Nice show, big brother. I was ready to die of boredom watching you do pull-ups all morning. Who knew you'd end it with an acrobatic performance just for your audience?"
Jason stepped forward and gave her cheek a light, playful punch with his knuckles. "What are you doing out here this early?"
She rubbed the spot, still smiling. "The sun's already up. Hard to miss you swinging around like a monkey."
Only then did Jason notice how high the sun had climbed. Power still hummed through his veins. He closed one hand into a fist and felt the difference immediately—denser muscle, stronger tendons, the quiet certainty that he had finally stepped forward.
*So this is what it feels like,* he thought, *to have even a little of what those with real homes take for granted. If I can keep going… reaching the fourth layer won't be impossible. And when I do, Andrew Fox will have to look at me differently.*
Hannah tilted her head, catching the soft words. "Big brother… did you break through?"
He nodded, the smile still on his face.
Her eyes lit up. "Congratulations! I can't wait to see Mother's face when she hears—"
Jason caught her wrist before she could dart back toward the tent. "Don't wake her for this. We'll tell her when she rises on her own."
"Ah—take it easy!" Hannah winced. "You're hurting me."
He released her at once, startled. "Sorry. I haven't gotten used to the new strength yet."
She rubbed her wrist, then gave him a sly look. "It's fine. I'll forgive you this once. But next time I'll cry to Mother and tell her you're bullying me."
Jason groaned. "Now you're threatening me?"
"Look at your face," she laughed. "You look so frightened."
"Of course I do. You're trying to make me look like the worst brother in front of Mother."
"Don't worry." Hannah leaned in, still grinning. "I won't tell on you… this time." She spun on her toes and skipped back toward the tent, braid bouncing.
Jason watched her go, then shook his head with a helpless smile of his own. The morning air felt cleaner somehow. Stronger. He turned and followed her at a slower pace, the quiet thrill of the breakthrough still warm beneath his skin.
One layer closer.
One step closer to everything that had been taken from them.