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The cup sat between two hands.
Steam rose in a thin line. It smelled like cedar and spring stone.
The Origin spoke like a bell struck under water.
[Warning]
[Strike incoming]
Ye Tian did not reach for the cup.
He turned his wrist the smallest amount. The table slid an inch across the polished floor. The steam bent. The shadow beside the side door shifted as if it had remembered it was also a person.
Something bright hissed past his cheek and died in the cup with a soft click.
No splash. No stain. Just a still surface and a tiny circle where light had gone to sleep.
The neat handed elder did not blink.
"Reflexes," he said softly. "Good."
Ye Tian did not answer. He took one step to the side so the table stood between him and the door.
The Origin measured the room.
[Two figures near the door]
[One with tray, one without]
[The second holds a short blade, coated]
[Unknown utility present, minor grade]
The young disciple holding the clay cup did not move. His eyes were low. His shoulders steady. His breath careful, as if he had practiced careful breathing for years.
A second shadow peeled off the screen and moved like a sliver of night. The blade in that hand did not shine. It smelled of bitter herbs.
Ye Tian let his weight drop through his heel. The table legs thumped once. The cup slid toward the elder's side like a small boat caught by a gentle current.
The blade came for Ye Tian's ribs.
[Minor Qi Shield, ready]
[Activate on contact, brief]
He let the blade arrive.
A soft glow woke along his forearm and chest. The impact struck and lost its teeth. He caught the attacker's wrist with two fingers and a palm. The grip was not hard. It was placed. A turn, a step, and the blade kissed the floor and stayed there.
The elder's smile widened a hair.
"Better than I hoped," he said.
The young disciple with the tray stepped back and set it on a low stand. His hands were clean. The edge of his sleeve showed a faint stain, old and washed many times.
Ye Tian did not chase the attacker. He looked at the elder.
"Your lesson," he said.
"A simple one," the elder said. "Drink slowly. Read quickly. Expect a hand from the left when the mouth on the right is smiling."
The attacker rose and struck again, open palm this time, a blow meant to rattle the heart without breaking the skin.
[Pain Dampener, ready]
[Body Reinforcement, ready]
[Use both in a light pattern]
Ye Tian took the strike on the glow of the new shield. The light thinned, then returned. He answered with a short step and a palm to the shoulder that turned the attacker away without breaking him.
The elder waved a thin hand.
"That is enough," he said.
The attacker slid back to the door like a shadow returning to its place. He picked up the blade and hid it where it had been.
The room remembered it was made of wood and stone and not just intent.
Ye Tian looked at the elder again.
"What is it you want," he asked.
"To draw a line," the elder said gently. "We all draw them. I prefer to draw mine before the floor is stained. You have talent. You have patience. You count breaths. These are good things. But patience without a teacher can become a road that turns in circles."
"I walk straight," Ye Tian said.
"Good," the elder said. "Then walk straight to my side."
The sentence sat there between them like a stone in a clear stream.
Ye Tian did not pick it up.
The Origin tasted the air again.
[Target: Attacker, identified as Sun Ruo]
[System: Minor Concealment]
[Function: Softens presence, hides small movements, reduces notice for a short time]
[Integrity: 64 percent]
[Seizure chance: low without clean contact, higher during slip step]
[Target: Young disciple with tray, identified as Wen Yao]
[System: Steady Breath]
[Function: Keeps pulse even, slows fear response, improves recovery under pressure]
[Integrity: 52 percent]
[Seizure chance: moderate with wrist contact]
Ye Tian let the information pass through him without settling.
The elder gestured to the cup that still steamed.
"Drink," he said. "It is only tea. The other cup was for someone else."
"The other cup was for anyone who cannot count," Ye Tian said.
The elder's eyes warmed. It was not affection. It was interest.
"Good," he said again. "You see the edges. Then hear the words. The sect is made of rooms and roofs and people. Some rooms are warmer than others. Some roofs do not leak. Some people carry weight that others do not. You are walking from a cold room into a warm one. That is a dangerous place. I can show you the warmer doors."
"What do you want for the key," Ye Tian asked.
"A simple promise," the elder said. "When I ask you to stand, you will stand. When I ask you to sit, you will sit. When I hold a cup to your lips, you will drink, unless you can show me a better cup that you brought yourself."
The words were gentle. They were a chain anyway.
"I prefer to bring my own cup," Ye Tian said.
The elder's eyes cooled, the way a spring does when a cloud covers the sun.
"Then bring it," he said softly. "And make sure it is clean."
"Sun Ruo," he said. "Show our guest the door."
The attacker opened the side door and held it, eyes on the floor.
"At sunset you told me to come," Ye Tian said.
"At sunrise you will come again," the elder said. "Second bell. North court. Wear something you can bleed in without shame."
Ye Tian inclined his head and left.
The air in the corridor was cooler. The light from the western sky drew a long bar across the floor. Dust floated in it like small fish in slow water.
Outside, the tiles on the high roofs held a dim fire. The first star stood fragile over the east wall.
Mu Qing waited under the crooked pine. She looked at his hands, then his eyes.
"Well," she said.
"A cup," he said.
"Of course," she said.
"And a door," he said.
"Of course," she said again.
They walked without speaking. The stones under the cloister held the last heat of the day. The yard was quiet in the way a place learns to be quiet after many words have been spoken and none of them were the last word.
At the corner where the cloister turned, Mu Qing stopped.
"Second bell," she said.
"I will," he said.
She moved toward the archive. He moved toward the outer court.
The Origin whispered again.
[Minor Qi Shield, light mode ready]
[Body Reinforcement, steady]
[Pain Dampener, steady]
[Weapon Mastery, consolidated]
[Note: Steady Breath nearby, moving toward the south hall]
He crossed the yard. Outer disciples bowed. Some started to speak, then stopped.
He reached his door. The room smelled of straw and old ink.
He sat and closed his eyes.
When the first bell of night sounded, he rose, washed, and stepped outside.
The yard had grown another kind of quiet. The breeze carried the smell of rain far off, mixing with the faint scent of oil from the armory.
[Presence near the roofline]
[Light steps, two persons]
[Utilities, minor grade]
He took the path to the storage hall. Inside, the air smelled of oil and wood. He found the iron fans, opened them once, and let them breathe. The metal caught the faintest gleam from the lantern light, and for a moment the hall seemed to shrink around him.
When he stepped back into the yard, something cut the air like a nail across silk.
[Warning]
[Second strike incoming]
[Angle, high right]
[Speed, high]
He raised his left forearm. Light woke.
A needle fell at his feet.
Two shapes dropped from the roof and walls, closing on him. Their steps were quick but measured, the sound of hunters who had practiced not to be heard.
[Hostile intent confirmed]
[One utility, Minor Concealment]
[One utility, Minor Sting]
[Recommendation: do not step back]
Ye Tian stepped in.
The hinge clicked. The night held its breath to see who would count faster.
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