The days following the selection passed under a strange tension. Villagers congratulated Li Tian openly now, yet their praise carried distance. He was already half-gone in their eyes. Zhang Wei avoided him entirely. Li Tian spent mornings helping his father reinforce the outer fence line near the fields, afternoons assisting his mother with market errands. Ordinary tasks. Ordinary rhythms. He committed them to memory without admitting why. His parents did not cling. They did not speak of pride or fear. His father simply said, "In cities, words matter less than strength." His mother added, "And strength matters less than judgment." Li Tian absorbed both statements carefully.
Each evening, he ventured deeper into the forest than before. He tested his endurance by fighting consecutive beasts without rest. He practiced suppressing the fragment's surge, drawing only a fraction of its refinement instead of the full flare. Control improved. The burn in his meridians shortened. His strikes grew sharper. By the tenth day, he stabilized fully at Fourth Stage Body Tempering. The leap from Third had taken others years. He had done it in weeks. That disparity could not be revealed.
One dusk, while returning from training, he sensed something different. Not a beast. A presence. He slowed his breathing and adjusted his steps silently. From behind a cluster of pines, a robed figure watched him. The Azure Wind scout. The man stepped into view without concealment. "You train beyond village necessity," he observed.
Li Tian did not deny it. "Strength fades without use."
The scout's gaze lingered on the faint scorch marks along Li Tian's wooden blade. "Be careful that ambition does not outpace foundation."
"I understand."
The scout's eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing more than the words. Then he turned and disappeared into the forest shadows. Li Tian remained still for several breaths. Had the man sensed the fragment? If so, he had given no sign. That uncertainty tightened something in Li Tian's chest.
The final night before departure, his mother prepared a simple meal of his favorite dishes. No ceremony. After dinner, his father handed him a wrapped bundle. Inside lay a short steel sword. Plain. Balanced. Reliable. "Wood breaks," his father said evenly. "Steel endures." Li Tian gripped the hilt. It felt natural in his palm. He bowed deeply this time. Words felt insufficient.
At dawn, he left Ashen Ridge Village without looking back. Not because he did not care. Because he did.