The morning mist hung low over the Yan estate as Kuangshen's bare feet pressed against the cool stones of the eastern training courtyard. At four years and seven months, he had grown slightly taller, his white hair brushing the tops of his shoulders, his black abyssal eyes holding a calm focus that belied his age. Today, he intended to push further, to expand the limits of perception and qi control beyond even the lessons of yesterday.
"Father, Mother," he called over his shoulder as Yan Tianhuo and Mei Xueling observed from the pavilion. "I wish to train with the older disciples today—the ten-year-olds and above. I want to see if my spatial harmonization holds against more experienced practitioners."
Yan Tianhuo's eyes narrowed slightly, both curiosity and caution present. "Very well. But remember—experience can be dangerous when underestimating a child."
Mei Xueling added softly, "And remember the lesson of humility. Even the smallest miscalculation can lead to serious injury."
Kuangshen inclined his head slightly. "I will remember, Mother. Observation before action."
---
By mid-morning, he arrived at the eastern grounds, where older disciples—some five to six years older than him—practiced forms, energy projection, and elemental manipulation. The air was thick with the hum of concentrated qi, the scent of ozone and crushed herbs mingling as blades of wind carried the power of their movements.
The moment Kuangshen stepped into the courtyard, the older disciples froze, their gazes drawn instinctively to the boy. Murmurs spread quickly.
"Is that… Yan Kuangshen?"
"At four years old? I've heard the stories… but this can't be him."
One particularly haughty boy stepped forward, a lean young cultivator named He Jian, his black hair tied in a high topknot. His aura, while impressive, carried a faint arrogance, an overreliance on brute strength and flashy techniques rather than precision. "So you're the little prodigy," He Jian said, a teasing smile playing across his lips. "I've been waiting to see if the legends were true. Let's test your abilities… if you dare."
Kuangshen's abyssal eyes assessed him for a moment, calm yet unyielding. "Dare is not required. Skill is."
---
The sparring circle was quickly formed, elders observing from a distance. Kuangshen's advantage was immediately apparent: his movements flowed like water, every step and gesture measured and precise, an uncanny grace that belied both age and size.
He Jian attacked first, releasing a flurry of elemental blades—air, fire, and lightning coiling around his fists in an attempt to overwhelm Kuangshen with raw power. The younger boy merely tilted his head, barely moving, as space itself seemed to bend around him. The first strike passed harmlessly through where he had been a fraction of a second earlier.
"You move too predictably," Kuangshen observed calmly, almost bored. With a subtle twist of his hands, He Jian's fire blades collapsed inward, redirected harmlessly into the earth. The younger boy's spatial harmonization allowed him to anticipate and control not only his own movements but the environment and his opponent's attacks.
He Jian's expression darkened. "A child… but no ordinary child. I've underestimated you."
Kuangshen tilted his head slightly. "Underestimation is a weakness. Recognize it, correct it, and perhaps you will improve."
The spar continued, drawing a small crowd of older disciples. Kuangshen's movements were a study in efficiency, combining observation, prediction, and subtle manipulation of the environment. Each misstep from He Jian was corrected before it could escalate, his attacks subtly influenced, his balance compromised without Kuangshen touching him directly.
By the end, He Jian knelt in exhaustion, not defeated in body, but humbled in mind. "How… how can a child…"
Kuangshen helped him to his feet with a small nod. "Growth is a process, He Jian. You still have much to observe."
---
After the sparring session, Kuangshen returned to the northern stream, sitting cross-legged as he reflected. His body had grown stronger, but more importantly, his understanding of other cultivators' techniques had deepened. Each interaction—each duel, each observation—added another layer to his ever-expanding comprehension of combat.
Even at this young age, he had begun forming a mental catalog of potential rivals and allies. He Jian, while strong, was predictable, and that predictability meant Kuangshen could guide his own growth by challenging him strategically. The notion of rivalry was not rooted in malice but in opportunity—each worthy opponent a stepping stone toward mastery.
Later, as the sun dipped behind the eastern mountains, Kuangshen returned to the estate. Yan Tianhuo and Mei Xueling observed him with quiet pride.
"You have outgrown yesterday's lessons," Yan Tianhuo said. "Your control over both perception and spatial manipulation continues to expand. But remember: the world beyond these walls will not be as forgiving."
Kuangshen's abyssal eyes glimmered. "I understand, Father. Each encounter, each observation, is a step toward perfection. Strength without understanding is meaningless."
Mei Xueling reached out to smooth his hair. "And never forget that compassion and wisdom are just as important as raw power. Remember this, Kuangshen, even as you grow stronger."
The boy nodded, gazing toward the northern horizon where the mountains kissed the sky. Though only four years and seven months old, his mind already planned not only the expansion of his cultivation but also the subtle positioning of allies, rivals, and knowledge.
The seeds of future rivalries had already been sown.