Chapter 3
Ye-Liyun's eyes snapped open. The agony in his abdomen was gone, replaced by a profound, soothing coolness. He was in a place of impossible beauty: a realm of ancient trees, fresh air, and a crystalline stream.
In the center stood an elegant, wooden pavilion. Inside, a man sat calmly sipping tea, his eyes holding boundless wisdom.
Ye-Liyun's heart pounded. This was a secret realm, and the man was a master. He had to reach him.
He took a desperate step toward the pavilion. Instantly, an overwhelming spiritual pressure slammed into him, pinning him to the ground. He was a mere mortal trying to approach a god. He tried to crawl, but the pressure intensified, tearing at his consciousness.
The old man simply raised his hand, a gesture of dismissal, and the world dissolved into a violent, blinding flash of light.
Ye-Liyun woke up with a jolt, gasping for air. He was back in the Ye Clan's training grounds. The pain in his abdomen was back, dull and throbbing, but he was alive.
Where was that place? He looked at the simple wooden ring on his finger. It was cool and quiet, offering no clues. He knew that realm and that man held the key to his survival.
He spent two days in his room, nursing his injuries. On the third morning, he returned to the training grounds, needing to be in the same location where the event occurred.
He was barely ten minutes into his Qi Gathering Stance when the shadows returned.
"Well, well. The trash is back for more."
Ye-Feng and Ye-Hao stood over him, their faces alight with anticipation.
"You're a persistent worm, Liyun," Ye-Feng said, his voice low and menacing. "We'll teach you a lesson about defying your superiors."
The beating was worse this time. They used their Foundation Establishment strength to inflict deep, internal bruises. Ye-Liyun didn't fight back. He simply endured, his mind focused on the image of the serene man in the pavilion. I will get back there. I will find a way.
When they finally left, Ye-Liyun lay in a pool of sweat and blood. He was too weak to even crawl, but he had to hide the evidence of his humiliation.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his trembling arms to push against the ground. He dragged himself forward, inch by agonizing inch, across the dusty training grounds and onto the stone path. He was a broken, bleeding mess, struggling desperately to reach the safety of his own home.