[31st Year of Xuanzhao]
The sun rose beyond the edge of the cliff.
Light spilled over the broken stone in slow layers, catching on jagged rock and low grass before reaching the narrow ledge carved into the mountainside. Wind moved steadily there, brushing along the cliff face and carrying the distant sound of birds rising from the forest below.
A young man stood near the edge.
His upper body was bare, skin pale beneath the early light. His feet rested directly on the stone, spaced evenly, toes spread and settled as if they had learned the surface through long familiarity. Long black hair fell loose down his back, strands lifting and settling with each passing current of air.
He lowered his stance.
His knees bent until his weight sank downward and spread evenly through his legs. His heels remained grounded, pressure distributed without visible strain.
"Root the body… calm the breath."
His arms lifted.
Elbows bent inward, forearms rising to chest level. His hands remained open, fingers loose, palms facing each other as though holding something unseen. The wind passed between them and moved on.
He inhaled.
The breath traveled downward, drawing his abdomen outward slightly while his chest remained still. His shoulders stayed level, unmoved by the motion.
"Stand as earth."
He exhaled, the air leaving him in a slow, even stream. Muscles along his thighs tightened and settled, lines forming and smoothing beneath the skin.
Sunlight reached his face.
Sharp brows cast narrow shadows over dark eyes that reflected the open sky without revealing depth, still and unbroken like a lake untouched by wind. His gaze remained fixed ahead, neither searching nor avoiding, distant in a way that did not waver.
"Breath like water."
He shifted.
One foot stepped forward, the other drew back, distance corrected by a subtle adjustment before his weight settled fully. His hips aligned with the stance, spine straightening as the movement completed.
His arms extended outward.
Palms turned inward, level and steady, elbows softened without dropping. The line of his back remained unbroken, muscle and bone moving together without excess.
"Strength follows bone."
He inhaled again.
His ribs expanded, breath filling him evenly, shoulders unmoving as the wind slid across his skin. A bird called from somewhere below the cliff, the sound carried briefly upward before fading.
He exhaled and remained where he was.
Sunlight traced the planes of his shoulders and the length of his spine. His hair lifted, brushed across his back, and settled again. The stance did not change as time passed and the light continued to rise.
He transitioned without interruption.
His arms lowered and rose again in a controlled arc. His knees straightened partway, then bent once more, depth adjusted with precision. His feet stayed planted, stone meeting skin without slip or correction.
"Root the body."
The wind pressed against him and moved on.
He stepped back into the initial stance, knees bent to the same depth, arms raised to the same position, breath aligning with the movement as it had before.
"Stand as earth. Breath like water."
Birdsong drifted upward again, scattered and distant. The sun cleared the horizon fully, light spreading across the cliff face and into the open sky.
He remained there, motion continuing only where breath required it, body aligned and unmoving against the wind.
The wind shifted.
A voice carried across the ledge.
"Chen Ming!"
The young man turned his head.
A middle-aged man stood several paces back on the stone path, one hand lifted slightly as if unsure whether to wave. He wore a faded brown robe cinched at the waist with a simple cloth sash, the fabric worn thin at the sleeves and hem. His hair was tied back loosely, streaked with gray, and fine lines marked the corners of his eyes when he smiled.
[Gu Han]
"Boss is calling for you," he said.
Chen Ming lowered his arms and straightened. His posture did not rush the movement. He nodded once.
"Mm."
[Chen Ming, 16 years old]
He stepped toward a flat stone near the edge of the ledge and lifted an off-white robe folded there. The cloth was plain, unadorned, its surface softened by long use. He slipped it over his shoulders and drew it closed without haste.
From within the robe, he took out a black belt. The leather was narrow and unmarked. He wrapped it around his waist and tied it with a single pull, the knot settling neatly at his side.
He began walking down the mountain path.
Gu Han fell into step beside him. Their pace was unhurried. The path narrowed and curved, stone worn smooth where countless feet had passed. Wind brushed through the trees below, carrying the sound of birds moving between branches.
Neither spoke.
After a while, Gu Han glanced at him.
"You're not wearing the jade pendant today?" he asked.
Chen Ming kept his eyes forward. He lifted his right hand slightly.
A piece of pale jade rested against his wrist, threaded through a black string tied securely around it. The stone caught the light briefly before his hand lowered again.
Gu Han nodded once.
"It seems there is work guarding a caravan traveling to Yunhe City," he said.
There was no response.
Gu Han looked at him again, then turned his gaze back to the path. He did not continue.
They walked in silence for several more minutes. The slope eased, and the trees thinned as the path leveled out. Ahead, a low stone wall enclosed a small courtyard. The gates were open, wood darkened by age, hinges creaking faintly as the wind pushed against them.
Inside, the ground was packed earth, swept clean. A few stone benches lined the walls. A withered tree stood near the corner, its branches bare despite the season. Sunlight filtered in uneven patches across the space.
They entered.
Chen Ming's pace quickened slightly.
He crossed the courtyard and reached the building opposite the gate. The door was plain, its surface scarred by old marks and weathering. He pushed it open.
Inside, a modest discussion hall came into view.
Four figures were already present.
Two younger men stood near one side, both dressed in simple training robes. One was tall and broad-shouldered, arms crossed loosely over his chest, his expression restless. The other leaned against a pillar, slimmer in build, eyes alert as they flicked toward the door.
Three middle-aged men occupied the remaining seats. One sat with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, face lined and tired. Another reclined slightly, robe dark and neatly kept, gaze sharp beneath heavy lids.
At the head of the hall stood a man in his late forties.
His build was solid, shoulders broad beneath a dark red robe worn close to the body. Strands of white threaded through the hair at his temples, contrasting with the rest of his black hair pulled back tightly. His face was stern, features set as if carved from stone, eyes steady and unyielding as they surveyed the room.
[Liu Zheng, Iron Fang Gang, Blood Refinement 9th Realm]
He stood without moving, hands resting lightly on the table before him, as the door closed behind them.
Liu Zheng looked over the room before speaking.
"The commission came from a merchant company operating along the western routes," he said. "They want the caravan delivered to Yunhe City without losses, and they are paying accordingly."
He paused long enough for the words to settle.
The route to Yunhe City did not favor travelers. After leaving the outer settlements, the road narrowed and bent into forest that had grown unchecked for generations. The trees pressed close, their canopies blocking much of the light, and the ground beneath them shifted from packed earth to roots and stone without warning. Demonic beasts moved through the area freely, some drawn by sound, others by scent, and encounters rarely followed patterns. The forest itself offered cover enough that paths could be abandoned and rejoined at will, which made it a natural place for bandits to watch, wait, and strike before disappearing again.
Liu Zheng rested his hands against the table.
"You six will take this job," he said. "Gu Han, Chen Ming, and the four of you already here."
Gu Han inclined his head.
One of the younger men straightened from the pillar, attention sharpening. The other shifted his stance, arms dropping to his sides. The middle-aged men exchanged brief glances but did not speak.
Chen Ming remained still.
He looked at Liu Zheng, then let his gaze pass across the room, taking in each of the others without pause. When he spoke, his voice carried evenly.
"I am not going."
He turned toward the door.
Liu Zheng did not raise his voice. "Why?"
Chen Ming continued walking.
"There are five Blood Refinement realms present," he said, his tone unchanged. "With that many, a Body Reinforcement realm like me adds nothing."
He reached the door and placed his hand against it.
"They have what you need most right now," Liu Zheng said.
Chen Ming's steps halted as he looked up.
He did not turn around.
"When do you want us to leave?" he asked.
"Late afternoon," Liu Zheng replied.
Chen Ming nodded once and continued out of the hall.