Yue Ling sat on a small stone slab, quietly watching Lang Tian practice. She nibbled on a stick of candied fruit, observing her junior brother's movements as if enjoying a graceful dance in a grand hall—focused yet relaxed.
Lang Tian, meanwhile, was utterly absorbed, lost to the world around him.
Sweat drenched his robes, beads rolling down his jaw, his face set in fierce concentration—almost comically so.
Yue Ling smiled softly.
This silly boy… he was always like this. When training, he threw himself into it heart and soul, ignoring everything else. Especially with martial arts. He could practice tirelessly from dawn to dusk, only stopping when exhaustion forced him to collapse and eat.
But ironically, when it came to meditation, which demanded utmost focus, his face would scrunch up everytime, and within moments, he'd shake his head, muttering about boredom.
And so it went.
After a long session, Lang Tian was finally tired.
