The wind in Cloud Peak was restless, carrying hints of distant thunder. Jin Kang awoke before sunrise, the air in his small dorm room thick with mood—the quiet before a storm, the excitement that raced through every disciple when change was near.
He tied his robe, checked the battered old sword at his side (a prop as much as a weapon), and headed through dark, rain-washed corridors toward the main hall. Today was the day of the Elder's Trial—a monthly evaluation, one that determined not just rankings but trust, opportunity, and the right to learn deeper martial secrets.
A hundred disciples buzzed around the hall, faces bright with anticipation and worry. Jin kept himself on the edge of the crowd, acting every bit the unremarkable student, ignoring the jittery hopes and fears humming behind every word.
Lin Mei was among the first to arrive. Jin noticed her quick scan of the crowd, as if searching for something she wasn't sure she'd find. His heart thudded—was she looking for him, already suspecting more than she let on?
She caught his eye and motioned him over.
"Jin Kang, you look sober this morning. Not planning to roll across the test?"
He grinned. "Only if Elder Han promises extra points for style."
Lin Mei's mouth twitched in amusement, but her gaze lingered longer than usual. "Some storms clear the air. Some make things more complicated. Make sure you don't end up lost in the rain."
Jin nodded, hearing both warning and care in her words.
Yu Xinyi arrived with her medicine pouch, distributing floral-scented salves for nerves and little wounds. She pressed a soft packet into Jin's hand. "Whatever happens, just be yourself. If you trip, I'll be cheering the loudest."
Her faith in him was a warming blanket. Jin smiled. "If I fall, make sure you catch me."
Together, the three joined the assembly. Elder Han took his place at the head table, with other senior masters. His eyes sparkled—a mix of wisdom and mischief.
***
The Elder's Trial was simple: Each disciple must demonstrate a chosen martial skill, then receive a random question about cultivation theory.
Those who excelled advanced in rank; those who failed returned to the basics, their learning delayed.
Jin Kang lined up, clutching his simple blade, rehearsing how best to mask his abilities. The system hummed quietly, reminding him:
> Mission: Remain underestimated during the Elder's Trial.
> Bonus objective: Protect a friend from embarrassment without revealing your true skill.
The ranks reshuffled every few months, but Jin's goal was absolute: blend in, help others, never expose himself.
Zhao Long was called first. He performed a complex sword form with all the bravado he could muster; the elders praised his precision and confidence. Lin Mei's turn drew respectful silence—her movements were silk and steel, her command over Qi as delicate as rain on petals. Yu Xinyi, when called, chose a short healing sequence: swift diagnostic hand movements, then a skillful application of Qi to mend fabric.
Her hands trembled a little. Jin caught her eye and nodded, quiet encouragement.
Elder Han smiled kindly. "Well done, Xinyi. Remember—a healer's heart sits on stronger foundations than any sword."
Finally, Jin's turn.
He gulped for show, shuffling feet, gripping his sword as if nervous (though every muscle wanted to move perfectly). He deliberately underperformed—a basic form, moves a touch off balance, Qi so subtle it barely registered.
Elder Han paused, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Jin Kang, what is the principle behind channeling Qi through the sword?"
Jin answered softly: "Qi follows intent. The sword acts as an extension—a guide for focus, not just a tool for force."
The answer was precise, but shared with gentle humility. Some murmured surprise; others just shrugged.
Elder Han nodded slowly, hiding a twist of his lips.
"Proceed," he said. Jin bowed, slotting himself successfully in the ranks: neither last nor exceptional—exactly as needed.
*System Notification:
Mask maintained—Skill: Humble Aura improved
Bond deepened: Elder Han now watches with quiet approval.*
***
After the trial, Jin waited in the courtyard as rankings posted. Rumors flared immediately.
"Zhao Long and Lin Mei are top again."
"Yu Xinyi could advance… she helped Elder Han last month."
"Jin Kang's lucky streak continues. Maybe he'll surprise us one day."
Jin smiled, his "average" placement perfectly unremarkable. But beneath the surface, he noticed Lin Mei standing alone by the willow tree, eyes clouded.
He joined her quietly.
"You did well. Again."
She breathed a slow sigh. "It isn't enough. My father wants me to be the best. The elders expect everything."
There was pain under her calm: pressure, loneliness. Jin remembered the weight of being seen only for what you could do—never for who you were.
"You're enough, Lin Mei. Even when you're just… yourself."
She glanced over, searching his face, seeing something she didn't quite understand.
"The best masks are worn on the inside," she said softly.
Jin nodded, both agreeing and longing to share the truth.
***
Later, Jin found Yu Xinyi tidying the infirmary, putting away herbs and poultices with quiet diligence.
"You saved me from Elder Han's theory test with that tip about sword Qi," she said, smiling. "How did you know what he would ask?"
Jin smiled. "He likes the basics. Helps you relax. You did him proud. I think he likes you more than half the swordsmen in the sect."
Yu blushed, her eyes softening. "I just want to help. Like you do."
He wanted to confide, to tell her everything—but the system chimed:
> Mask optimal. Revealing truth risks all bonds.
> Allow genuine friendship to deepen over time.
Jin nodded, touching her wrist. "You help everyone, Xinyi. You're the heart of this place."
She smiled, squeezing his fingers gently—a silent connection.
***
Dusk brought the sound of thunder, soft as drums. Disciples gathered for evening rice and tea, swapping stories. Zhao Long sat apart, confidence dented by Lin Mei's success. Yet, as Jin approached, Zhao raised his cup.
"Jin Kang, you're an odd one. Lucky, clumsy. But you never seem afraid. Why?"
Jin shrugged. "Luck is just another skill. Maybe I'm not afraid because falling down teaches you how to get up better than winning does."
Zhao pondered. "It must be nice. To not worry about expectations."
"It has its own troubles." Jin was honest. "But it's peaceful."
Zhao nodded, a new respect in his eyes.
***
The elders called for silence, announcing the next sect event—a joint training session with neighboring sects. For Jin, it sounded like trouble. New faces, new suspicion—more reasons to keep his mask secure.
Lin Mei caught his eye from across the hall; Yu Xinyi grinned, excited for a change. Zhao Long smirked, ready for any new competition.
Jin Kang sat back, listening, calculating. He had survived another day without exposure, strengthened his friendships, and left both rivals and friends wondering at the truth behind his easy smile.
Above, the moon broke through stormclouds, silver and full.
*System Notification:
Mask maintained
Bond boosts: Lin Mei, Yu Xinyi, Elder Han, Zhao Long
New Mission: Conceal power during joint sect training; protect sect reputation without revealing yourself.*
Jin Kang closed his eyes, claiming the peace only he knew—the peace that blooms when a secret is kept close, not just from the world but sometimes from the heart.
He drifted to sleep, dreaming of rain, laughter, and the promise that someday, he would show them all what an underestimated legend could do.