The morning began the way many had lately: with bruises, silence, and a boy who hadn't had time to be young in far too long.
Lin Tian sat on the edge of his thin mat, arms limp, face pale. The robe he wore was clean only in the most generous sense of the word—one patch over the shoulder was still wet from yesterday's rinse. His hair was tied back with a frayed strip of cloth. His hands were blistered.
Chen Mu hovered above him in the ring, watching.
"You're exhausted," Chen Mu muttered. "Physically, spiritually, mentally. And yet you're still up before dawn, trying to train."
Lin Tian didn't reply. He closed his eyes and shifted into a meditative pose, though even that looked painful today.
Chen Mu paused, then activated [Soul Tap].
A cool pulse flowed into Lin Tian's mind. His breathing steadied. His spine straightened.
"Good," Chen Mu said quietly. "Now feel for the Qi again. It's there. Still moving."
They began their daily routine. The basics of cultivation, redelivered every morning like a whispered secret. Chen Mu guided Lin Tian through breathing cycles, pulse checks, and energetic positioning. The boy's progress had slowed—inevitable after days of sabotage and overwork—but it hadn't stopped.
"You're holding onto what you've earned," Chen Mu said. "It'll take more than sweat and mockery to knock it out of you."
[+2 BP for reinforcing disciple willpower.]
After half an hour of focused meditation, Lin Tian finally exhaled and looked up. His face was a little clearer, but he still looked like a walking bruise.
Before Chen Mu could comment, there was a knock on the door.
Not Guo's brutish banging—this was different. Measured. Deliberate.
Lin Tian rose and opened the door.
A tall girl stood on the step, inner sect robes pristine and hands folded. Her expression was utterly neutral.
"Outer disciple Lin Tian?"
"Yes."
"Elder Hu requires your presence in his root garden. You will report there at second bell."
"Yes... understood."
The girl left without another word.
Lin Tian closed the door and sagged slightly against it.
"New assignment?" Chen Mu asked.
"Root sorting."
"What's that?"
"I have no idea."
"Wonderful. Let's go suffer together, then."
Elder Hu's "garden" was a stone hall behind the alchemy division, deep enough into the mountain that torches had to be placed every few feet. There were no windows. No flowers. No birdsong. Just the scent of mineral-rich dirt, dried herbs, and faintly glowing fungi on the far walls.
Five large baskets lined the front of the hall. A long worktable sat in the center, covered in velvet cloth and labeled trays. Tiny characters had been carved into bone plaques beside each tray: Fire Aspect. Water Aspect. Poisonous. Yin. Unrefined.
Elder Hu stood waiting, arms behind his back, his violet robes pooling like spilled ink.
"You will be blindfolded during sorting," he said. "The roots are spiritually reactive to sight. Improper exposure can ruin them."
He didn't wait for a reply. He handed Lin Tian a strip of black cloth.
"Begin."
Lin Tian hesitated only a moment, then tied the cloth over his eyes and sat.
Chen Mu whispered, "This feels rigged."
"It always is," Lin Tian whispered back, barely moving his lips.
The first root was placed in his palm.
It was warm, slightly sticky. It pulsed slowly.
"Fire," Chen Mu said. "Too steady to be water. Not tingly enough for poison."
Lin Tian moved it to the proper tray.
Second root: cold and wet. It throbbed in uneven pulses, and a faint chill spread through his wrist.
"Water aspect."
Third root: sharp scent, made his fingers twitch.
"That's poison," Chen Mu said. "Classic alchemist trap root."
They kept going. One root burned. Another sent soft static across his knuckles. A few did nothing at all. One let out a faint squeal when he squeezed too tightly.
For over an hour, Lin Tian worked. Silently. Carefully. Sweat collected under the blindfold. His fingers felt raw. At one point, he dropped a root and panicked, thinking he'd destroyed it, but Elder Hu only said, "Continue."
Chen Mu helped where he could, flipping through the manual, trying to offer advice even when the descriptions didn't line up. Some roots weren't even in the text.
"You're doing well," he said quietly. "Better than I would've."
[+2 BP for maintaining calm under spiritual duress.]
When the final root was sorted, Elder Hu gave a single nod and walked to a ledger at the back wall.
He said nothing else.
Lin Tian pulled off the blindfold, blinking against the torchlight.
"I'm finished?"
"You are reassigned," Hu said. "Report to the outer forest boundary. Take this scroll. Investigate pest presence."
The scroll slapped onto the table.
"That's it?" Lin Tian asked.
"No feedback?"
"You've done enough."
Chen Mu growled, "That's his version of 'you passed, now disappear.'"
And then, as if summoned by a curse, Guo walked in.
Flanked by two of his lackeys, Guo strolled up to the table like he owned it.
"Good to see you're still standing, trash."
Lin Tian said nothing.
"Careful out there," Guo continued. "There's been sightings of venom-crawlers. Might be above your pay grade."
Elder Hu didn't even glance up.
Lin Tian bowed again, took the scroll, and left.
The forest past the ward stones felt different today.
The trees were denser. The wind sharper. Lin Tian walked slowly, checking the scroll again.
"Confirm movement signs. Track if possible. Report when complete."
"Helpful," Chen Mu muttered. "Vague death instructions."
The underbrush was thick, and the deeper he went, the less maintained the path seemed. Eventually, the ward line vanished behind a moss-covered boulder.
Tracks soon appeared—thick claw marks, green flecks on leaves, and half-eaten mushrooms with blackened veins.
They found the beast after thirty minutes.
A Thornscale Monitor—lumbering, wounded, but aggressive. Its left leg dragged uselessly, and its tongue flicked in and out like a whip.
Lin Tian crouched in the tall grass, palms sweating.
"You're going to fight that thing?" Chen Mu asked.
"No choice."
"It has venom sacs the size of watermelons."
"Still no choice."
Chen Mu opened the manual frantically. "Okay. Fire Palm. Use it like a slap, not a punch. Aim for the face and yell something intimidating."
Lin Tian stepped forward, heart hammering.
The monitor turned and hissed, its tail slamming into a tree.
Lin Tian shouted and lunged.
"HEAVEN-BLAZING PALM!"
His hand connected. The Qi flared, heat blasting out in a sudden burst of pressure.
The monitor screeched and reeled, rolling onto its side.
It didn't die.
But it ran.
Lin Tian collapsed to his knees, panting, arms shaking.
"I did it. I hit it. It didn't kill me."
"You named the technique on the spot," Chen Mu said. "Didn't even sound like total nonsense. I'm proud."
[+3 BP for successful bluff-empowered strike.]
[Soul Strength +1]
[Cultivation Insight: Martial Instinct (Minor)]
Lin Tian laughed—once, breathlessly.
"I actually scared it."
"You really did."
The trip back to the sect was quiet. Peaceful, even. Lin Tian didn't limp. He didn't stumble.
And that night, when he sat to meditate, the Qi came easier than ever.
No stumbling. No sparks. Just warmth. Motion. Stability.
Chen Mu watched in silence.
Then opened his status.
[System Status Panel – Chen Mu (Ring State)]
Bluff Points: 39
Soul Strength: 7
Current Vessel: Jade Ring (Damaged, Dusty, Slightly Sticky)
Abilities: Voice of Authority Lv.1, Soul Tap (1/day)
Manual Access: Beginner Cultivation Manual (Simulated)
Current Objective: Guide disciple through Qi Initiation Realm
Disciple Status: Qi Initiation – Early Stage (Approaching Mid)
He closed the panel slowly.
"Not long now," he whispered. "One more humiliation. One more lie from Hu or that smug bastard Guo... and we're out."
The ring pulsed faintly.
And in the dark, Lin Tian smiled.