Dawn smelled of iron and citrus—the scent of someone up early cutting citrus peel for the morning porridge. The training yard was a slow machinery of bodies and breath; wood hit wood in steady rhythms, and the pines kept their indifferent watch. Li Wei woke with the knowledge that growth felt less like fireworks now and more like patient smithing: heat and hammer, then rest.
Hua Lin met him at the outer edge of the herb garden, jade stones in her hands and a look that suggested the day was already measured. "Today is technical," she said. "We will do practical triad drills—movement, spacing, and synchronized breath under pressure. Then private lessons: meridian corrections and mediation practice. Be precise."
He liked the word precise. Precision meant fewer mistakes; fewer mistakes meant fewer rumors. It meant the triad could be taught like a craft rather than offered like a spectacle.
Mei Ling and Yun Shuang arrived in the pavilion before the sun fully lifted. Mei Ling's eyes were soft and certain; Yun Shuang's stance was loose, muscles coiled but relaxed. They had practiced together in scripted sessions before, but today would be less rehearsal and more testing: how the three moved as a unit in tasks that mimicked real field stress—ankle entanglements, sudden diversions, and the small panic that comes when an opponent feints.
Hua Lin arranged the drills: three stations in a triangle, each designed to stress a different coordination—timing, grounding, and emotion-check. "You who are triad," she said, tapping the stones together, "must switch roles: anchor, conduit, and buffer. You must also practice withdrawal. Consent includes the ability to leave with dignity."
Li Wei drew the anchor role first—centered, absorbing incoming pressure and redistributing it. Mei Ling would be conduit—merging flows—while Yun Shuang would alternate as buffer, bluntly redirecting excess energy. They moved through the drills in silence at first, breath a metronome beneath their efforts. Li Wei felt his body remembering the movements like old code; his palm used the Heavenly Groping Hand in small, stabilizing gestures that would seem theatrical to a casual observer but were in fact calibrated to absorb and diffuse momentum.
At the third station, a feint test simulating a sudden offensive, the three flared into motion. Yun Shuang stepped forward with blunt decisiveness; Mei Ling folded inward and pressed her rhythm into Li Wei's center. He felt the neat, practiced coupling of their Qi—threads aligning under stress. For the first time the system's little blue rectangle blinked in a way that made his chest tighten with a particular kind of nervous delight.
[TRIAD DRILL — PARTIAL SYNC REGISTERED]
Participants: Li Wei (Anchor), Mei Ling (Conduit), Yun Shuang (Buffer).
Result: Partial Triad Synchronization achieved (Emotional Concordance 64%).
Reward: +180 Qi (shared distribution recommended).
Caveat: Emotional entanglement metric rising; schedule follow-up checks.
The notification was mechanical and blunt. Partial sync: a scientific phrase for a human seam that had just been sewn. He felt the warmth equalize across his limbs in a way that was not just power but a kind of solidarity—muscles trusting muscles, breath trusting breath. Yun Shuang's grunt softened into a sound that might have been approval; Mei Ling's smile was the same steady one he had come to rely on.
Hua Lin called them in and adjusted small angles in their posture—tucking an elbow, easing a shoulder, shifting foot-placement by a hair. "Good," she said. "But note the emotional resonance. At sixty-four percent you can do fieldwork, but you cannot carry vulnerability for long. Individual aftercare must be immediate and robust."
They moved from practical drills to private lessons. Hua Lin took Li Wei alone in the herb-scented alcove and began to correct meridian micro-angles he had been neglecting—tiny faults in the waist spiral that would, over time, crack larger channels. Her hands were brief and expert. "Your anchor uses too much surface tension," she told him. "Let the ground take the shock more. Be like a rooted reed, not a stone."
He practiced the corrected posture until sweat gathered in the hollow of his collarbone and the motion felt like a new sentence on a tongue. The lesson was quiet, intimate in the way of teachers who move hands on shoulders: no spectacle, just the passing of craft.
After the private lesson, Li Wei rejoined Mei Ling and Yun Shuang for an individualized aftercare protocol. Hua Lin supervised. Mei Ling's protocol was talk, poultice, herbs steeped to a temperature that steadied the chest—not heat so much as the exact warmth of a practiced hand. Yun Shuang's aftercare was muscle-roll and blunt praise; she was soothed by motion and gratitude, not quiet words.
They followed the triad practice with a low-key synchronized session meant not to harvest but to observe: twenty minutes together, palms held but not pressed, breathing at a slightly slower tempo than usual. Li Wei felt the partial sync settle like a stone in still water: ripples outward, then peaceful.
[OBSERVATION SESSION — STABLE]
EmotionalConcordance: 61% (slight drop after private corrections).
Reward: +80 Qi distributed to Host & Partners.
Reminder: Log individualized aftercare and schedule 48-hour emotional check-ins.
Hua Lin lingered after they had finished, not as a teacher but as a counsel. "You enacted governance well," she said. "You checked consent, rotated roles, and applied correction. Now watch the edges: jealousy is subtle, fatigue shows late, and shame disguises itself as bravado. Schedule the check-ins. Keep records."
Li Wei nodded, feeling the muscle-memory of duty settle in him. He documented the session in the protocol ledger—who consented, when, the signature of each partner, notes on mood and physical strain. Recording was tedious, but he understood the ledger's protective logic: it created accountability in a place that had too often favored rumor.
The system rewarded the care with a smaller ping later that afternoon: a minor charm buff and a private note recommending caution.
[NOTIFICATION]
Effect: Passive Charm +3 (24 hours). Advisory: Inner monitors noted triad activity. Expect polite inquiries.
Polite inquiries were easiest to bear when one had a plan. Li Wei arranged the 48-hour check-ins, staggered meal-sharing with Lianxi, and a study session with Ruo Yan that would let their minds rest in logic rather than emotion. He stopped by the kitchen to ask Lianxi for a calming broth recipe to be used in aftercare, a small gesture that stitched food into his protocol.
That evening, as the sun washed the pines in honey, Mei Ling leaned into him while they sat on the veranda. "Did you feel it?" she asked.
He smiled, the old, private grin. "Yes. First true cable. Stronger than I expected."
She pressed her forehead to his in the brief usual benediction. "We'll keep it steady together."
He closed his eyes and felt the Obsidian Heart's faint pulse align with his new cadence. The reward had been useful; the work ahead would be steadier and more complicated. A triad, he thought, was not a prize but an assembly—delicate, requiring joints oiled in trust and governance. Tonight they had registered a partial sync. Tomorrow they would watch how it held, whom it warmed, and whether it asked more than they were ready to give.
The Perverted Dao offered leverage. Li Wei learned, again, that leverage demanded custody. He would carry both the power and the record of how it was used.
End of chapter 17