The light from the first trial faded, and darkness returned like a tide drawn over the land. Lin Mu stood still, both swords lowered at his sides, waiting. His breathing was calm, unaffected. He had passed the first test. The sword had acknowledged him.
But the second test… would not be of steel.
The world around him began to shimmer.
A haze rolled in, color blooming across the darkness like ink bleeding into water. Shapes formed. Walls, doors, furniture.
A house.
Lin Mu recognized it at once.
His childhood home.
The worn wooden floors, the creaking ceiling beams, the smell of millet porridge in the air. The sounds of a fire crackling in the hearth. And at the center of it—
Two familiar figures sat quietly.
His father hunched at the table, eyes tired and dim. His mother, once so warm, now pale and thin, folded clothes silently in a corner.
Lin Mu didn't move. He simply watched.
Then they turned to face him.
Their expressions twisted.
