The wind stirred the broken training grounds, carrying with it the scent of dried grass and faint ash. Lin Zian sat cross-legged beneath a weathered tree, his breathing slow and even, as if communing with the very spirit of the earth.
Before him floated the golden scroll — the Vault of Heaven.
Its glow had faded to a soft shimmer, dormant but waiting. His thoughts drifted through the fragmented techniques he'd seen in the sect's discarded storage: flawed sword arts, incomplete breathing patterns, and cultivation scrolls tossed away like rotten fruit.
But what caught his attention now wasn't technique.
It was a presence.
A soft cough.
He opened his eyes to see a thin boy creeping past the courtyard. His steps were careful, as though he feared even the wind might judge his existence. A rusted blade hung from his waist, barely sharp enough to cut bread.
"You," Lin Zian called calmly.
The boy froze.
"M-me?"
"Yes. Come here."
The boy walked hesitantly, eyes lowered. "Disciple Xiao An greets… senior?"
"I'm no senior," Lin said. "You're here to clean?"
Xiao An nodded. "Yes, honored one. I was assigned to sweep the outer court ruins. I won't disturb—"
Lin Zian waved a hand. "Draw your blade."
The boy looked confused. "But… it's broken."
"All the better. Show me your form."
The boy hesitated, then stepped back, lifted the cracked blade, and swung.
His movements were rigid. Heavy. Awkward. His meridians pulsed irregularly, Qi leaking from his core with every motion.
> [Vault Observation: Cracked Dantian. Spiraling Qi pattern. Disconnected footwork. Meridian block in left shoulder.]
Lin Zian's gaze sharpened. "Your cultivation is flawed. Your breathing pattern clashes with your root meridian. Your stance is from two different manuals. Who taught you this?"
"I… pieced it together," Xiao An said honestly. "I wasn't allowed formal instruction."
Lin Zian stood and placed two fingers on the boy's shoulder.
A golden glow pulsed.
> [Corrective Channeling Initiated]
The boy gasped as warmth rushed through his meridians. The Vault revealed his fractured spiritual pathways, and Lin Zian gently guided them, realigning his inner circulation.
He pulled the rusted blade from Xiao An's grip, turned it over, and pressed his thumb against its dull edge.
A faint vibration answered — a remnant spirit dwelling within the metal.
With a breath of pure intent, Lin Zian whispered a single word.
"Awaken."
The blade shimmered faintly, years of grime crumbling away.
"Try again," he said, handing it back.
Xiao An stepped forward, exhaled deeply, and struck.
This time, the air whispered.
The training dummy across the courtyard trembled.
"I… I didn't think I could…" Xiao An's voice shook. "I felt my Qi respond. For the first time."
"You are not broken," Lin Zian said. "You are simply… neglected."
> [Vault Recognition: Disciple Potential—Confirmed]