The fire in the brazier crackled softly.
Luo Feng sat at his desk as twilight crept in. The flame cast dancing shadows on the wooden walls, warm against the growing chill outside. He gently rolled the Body Tempering Elixir between his fingers, watching it glint faintly in the light.
Not long ago, he'd been bedridden in this very hut, helpless, broken.
Now?
He had a disciple. He had power flowing again through his veins. His foundation was slowly rebuilding, stronger with each interaction.
A part of him—the Earth-born part—still struggled to believe it.
But the other part, the part that had endured shame and silence in this world… that part knew better. Nothing came freely here. Every gain had a price.
He uncorked the elixir and drank it in one gulp.
A burning sensation rippled through him like lightning. His bones groaned. His muscles tightened and pulled like cords being restrung. He grit his teeth, sweat beading along his brow.
Then it was over.
He exhaled slowly.
His body felt… cleaner. Stronger. His fingers no longer trembled when he clenched them. The system didn't lie.
(Ding! Physical recovery: 38%.
Meridians: 21% restored.
Next milestone: Partial Cultivation Access Unlocked.)
He closed his eyes, feeling the energy stir faintly inside. Not enough to fight. But enough to stand tall again.
A quiet knock interrupted his thoughts.
A-Yan peeked in.
"I swept the path and gathered water," she said. "And I... patched the training dummy's arm."
She spoke quietly, like she still wasn't sure she was allowed to be proud.
Luo Feng nodded. "Good. You'll train with that dummy tomorrow. Shadow Step drills. Fifty repetitions."
Her face fell a little at the number, but she nodded without complaint.
As she turned to leave, Luo Feng called out, "A-Yan."
She paused.
"You did well today. Better than most outer disciples I've seen."
Her eyes lit up like lanterns.
"…Thank you, Master."
She left, but he didn't miss the little bounce in her step as she walked away.
He leaned back in his chair.
"I've been here three days and already got one monster in the making," he said softly. "What happens when I get five?"
He didn't say it arrogantly.
He said it because he meant it.
A few hundred meters away, beyond the training field and the crumbling boundary wall, someone crouched beneath the trees—cloaked, silent, watching.
A shadow within shadows.
The figure's eyes narrowed as they watched Luo Feng exit the hut and walk the grounds.
"So the old coward really survived."
A sharp glint flickered beneath the hood. It wasn't just curiosity—it was resentment.
The spy reached into a pouch and withdrew a black talisman, whispering into it.
"Reporting to Elder Mo: Luo Feng remains alive on the Broken Peak. He has taken a disciple. A girl. Roughly eleven."
There was silence.
Then, a raspy voice responded through the talisman.
"Observe. Do not act. Yet."
The spy nodded and tucked the talisman away, melting into the darkness like smoke.
Back on Dawnmist Peak, Luo Feng stood at the edge of the cliff where the stone railing had long since broken off.
Below, clouds swirled in the canyons. Distant peaks glimmered in moonlight.
He remembered how this world had once looked at him. Reverent. Fearful. And then—when the demons came and he didn't save them—disgusted. Abandoned.
He clenched his fists.
"You took my name. My status. My strength," he whispered.
"And now, I'll take something back."
He turned from the edge and walked toward the small training ground.
Morning would come soon.
And he had a disciple to train.