The training field was silent, save for the crunch of Adam's bare feet as he stepped forward. Across from him, Zheng bounced on his toes, grinning with boyish eagerness. A small crowd had gathered—young villagers, a few elders, even Old Zhang stood in the back, arms folded.
Instructor Lin's voice cut through the quiet. "No killing blows and no crippling strikes. Begin."
Zheng didn't wait. He lunged forward, swinging wide and fast, confident in his size and strength. But Adam didn't flinch. His body moved on instinct—ducking under the strike, pivoting to the side, letting the force pass by like a rushing river.
A whisper ran through the onlookers.
Zheng frowned and came again, faster this time. A flurry of strikes, rough but practiced.
Adam's muscles remembered.
The weight shift of a mountain cat. The timing of a falling leaf.
He blocked, weaved, and stepped in—his palm tapping Zheng's wrist, redirecting it, and sending him stumbling off-balance.
Gasps.
Zheng caught himself with a grunt and came back harder, frustration mounting. This time, his fist grazed Adam's shoulder.
Adam slid backward, grounding his feet in the earth. He hadn't wanted to fight. Not like this. But he had to earn his place again.
The next exchange ended quickly.
Zheng charged. Adam slipped past the punch and struck once—an open palm to the chest. Not hard, but firm. Enough to stop Zheng's momentum.
The larger boy froze, breath caught, then took a step back and raised both hands.
"I yield."
The crowd was stunned into silence.
Instructor Lin stepped forward. His expression unreadable.
"Good control," he said, eyes briefly narrowing on Adam. "Report here tomorrow at dawn."
---
The morning mist lingered like a breath held too long, curling between the wooden houses of Bai Village and blurring the sharp lines of the training field. Adam stood barefoot on the cold earth, sweat dripping from his brow as he repeated the basic stances. His limbs burned, his knees ached, and his breath came in short bursts—but he didn't complain.
Pain grounded him. Each throb reminded him this was real.
Instructor Lin's voice cut through the morning fog, calm but firm. "Again. Hold the stance. No wobbling. You—deepen your horse stance, or your knees will give out before your spirit does."
Adam adjusted his feet silently, falling deeper into the position. Around him, the younger trainees groaned or faltered. His muscles trembled, but he kept steady. These were the same drills he had done in his fourth life. At the time, he'd learned them out of gratitude and obligation. Now, he approached each movement like etching it into his bones.
From the edges of the field, Zhao Yun watched him with an appraising look. Lin Yao was farther off, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
After the forms ended, Instructor Lin approached Adam and spoke just loud enough for the others to hear.
"You're picking this up fast. You sure you've never trained?"
Adam offered a polite bow. "Not that I can remember."
A flicker of something passed through the instructor's eyes—curiosity, suspicion—but he didn't press. He clapped his hands. "Take ten minutes. Then sparring practice."
Zhao Yun sauntered over during the break, tossing Adam a flask of water. "Not bad, river boy. You've got the stance of someone who's been beaten into the dirt and got up one too many times."
Adam took a sip. "Maybe I have."
Zhao Yun laughed and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Let's see if your fists speak as well as your stance does."
---
The sparring session was brief but revealing. Adam kept his movements restrained, flowing more than striking. Zhao Yun's strikes were wild but effective, fast and powerful. Adam dodged more than he attacked, conserving energy and reading patterns. When he finally countered, it was with a simple redirect and a light tap to Zhao Yun's chest.
The crowd of villagers watching gave a soft murmur of surprise. Zhao Yun blinked, then grinned.
"Alright, now I know you've trained."
Before Adam could answer, Instructor Lin called an end to the match. "Good. Both of you. That's enough for now."
---
That night, as the village quieted under the weight of the stars, Adam slipped out of the communal hut and made his way toward the training field again. He moved slowly, his body still sore, but his heart was restless. He needed to feel motion, to let the memories of his past lives settle through repetition.
He began his drills under the pale moonlight, each breath deep and controlled.
Footsteps approached behind him, soft but confident.
"You're not very sneaky," he said, without turning around.
"I wasn't trying to be," Lin Yao replied, stepping into view. Her hair was tied back, and she wore a dark training robe. A wooden practice blade was in her hand.
"You train at night?" she asked.
Adam shrugged. "Only when I feel like I'll go insane if I don't."
She regarded him for a moment, then raised her blade slightly. "Spar?"
He nodded.
Their first exchange was cautious. Lin Yao was fluid, fast, and precise, if he remembered correctly, she was already a martial artist.
Adam met her strikes with smooth deflections, never going on the offensive. She narrowed her eyes as if studying him.
"You're not attacking."
"It's just a spar, no need to go all out."
"Are you looking down on me?" She said coldly this time.
"I—" before he could answer she attacked again.
Her next strike came faster. Adam parried, but she slipped past and landed a tap on his shoulder.
"Good," she said. "Then don't hold back."
They moved again, a slow dance under the stars. Wooden blades cracked in the quiet night, rhythm building between them. Adam found himself adjusting instinctively to her pace—faster, then slower, then circling. It became less about victory and more about harmony.
After a while, they both stepped back at the same time, breathing hard. Lin Yao wiped her forehead with her sleeve.
"You're different," she said. "Not just talented. You… as if you already know my every move."
Adam didn't reply immediately. The fireflies blinked in the grass around them, and the silence between them stretched.
He said finally. "You are exaggerating, I'm sure if you went all out I wouldn't stand a chance against you."
She gave a slow nod, then turned away. "See you tomorrow night, then?"
He watched her leave before responding, "Yeah. Tomorrow."
---
Elsewhere, inside a dimly lit room built deep into the hill behind the village fields, Instructor Lin sat across from a man dressed in a plain robe, the cloth loose around his shoulders, revealing faint scars over lean muscle.
Lin Kuan.
There were no candles lit—only the faint blue glow of spirit stones embedded in the walls. Their conversation was quiet, measured.
"I saw him spar today," Instructor Lin said. "He's no common wanderer."
Lin Kuan remained still. "You think he's a danger?"
"No," Lin said. "Not that. But he's either been trained in a hidden sect or he's a prodigy like we haven't seen in decades. He could be useful."
Lin Kuan finally looked up. His expression wasn't skeptical, but cautious. "It's too soon to say."
"Perhaps. But I've seen sparks like this before. Given the right pressure, they become fire. And we'll need fire—if we're to achieve our cause."
Lin Kuan's gaze hardened. "Don't speak of that so lightly."
"I'm not. I'm just saying… he might be part of the answer."
Lin Kuan stood, the conversation clearly over. "Let him earn his place first. Let him bleed with us before we start imagining him carrying our hopes."
Instructor Lin didn't argue. "Understood."
---
Over the next few days, Adam's life settled into a rhythm.
Mornings were drills and forms followed by sparring with Zhao Yun. Afternoons, manual labor in the fields alongside Old Zhang, who remained friendly but no longer recognized him. Adam listened more than he spoke, asking about plant cycles, soil composition, irrigation channels. His questions came naturally—he had lived this life before, and now he used it as a disguise, letting others believe he was simply sharp and curious.
At night, Lin Yao would meet him at the field. Sometimes they sparred. Other times they just sat under the stars, breathing quietly beside one another.
One night, after an especially tough training session, Lin Yao flopped down beside Adam with a grin, brushing a few stubborn leaves off her shoulder.
"So," she said, "why are you always so quiet? Scared you'll spill all your secrets?"
Adam glanced up at the stars, smirking. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just waiting for the perfect moment to surprise everyone."
She smiled, eyes sparkling. "Uh-huh. Sounds like a lot of pressure."
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, I do carry something… but it's mostly just a really bad sense of direction."
Lin Yao shook her head, smiling. "Figures. So, are you running away from it or chasing it?"
Adam grinned. "Neither. I'm trying not to get lost along the way."
She elbowed him again. "Good answer. But don't keep all the fun to yourself, okay?"
Their silence stretched, comfortable now, no longer awkward.
She spoke again after a while. "You know... I hated you at first."
He raised an eyebrow. "Because I was better than expected?"
"Because I felt like you were hiding something. And I hate secrets."
Adam gave a dry chuckle. "Then you'll hate me for a long time."
She didn't smile, but her voice softened. "Maybe."
---
A week passed in quiet repetition. Adam trained, worked, and grew stronger with each day. His body began adjusting again to the strain of life in Bai Village. The villagers started greeting him more openly. Children waved at him in the streets. Even Zhao Yun seemed to treat him like one of their own.
One evening, Instructor Lin approached him after drills.
"I've been watching you," he said.
Adam nodded. "I'm aware."
"You learn fast and you fight smart. But talent alone isn't enough here. If you want to truly integrat into bai village, that's not enough, you'll need to learn how to protect too."
Adam looked around at the villagers, at the fields, the children, the families.
"I know," he said quietly. "I've already decided."
Instructor Lin gave him a long, searching look, then walked away without another word.
---
Later that night, as the village slept and Adam sat alone near the riverbank, letting the sound of water clear his thoughts, he felt a presence behind him.
"Couldn't sleep?" Lin Yao asked, her voice quiet.
"No," he said. "Too much noise in my head."
She stepped beside him. "Want to spar?"
Adam smiled faintly. "Always."
They rose together, blades in hand, and moved like two threads weaving the night into something sacred.
He knew he had a long way to go to achieve his goal, to protect what he held precious. But for now he decided to enjoy this moment if peace.