Bai Feng awoke to the faint, bitter scent of medicinal herbs and the steady ache that seemed to run through his entire body. His eyelids felt heavy, as though even waking required effort. When he finally focused, the familiar timbered ceiling of the Verdant Grove Sect's infirmary swam into view.
Every breath caught against his ribs, reminding him of the fight — claws raking, a roar in his ears, and then… something else. Something strange.
"You're awake."
The voice came from his right. A middle-aged man with streaks of grey in his tied-back hair sat beside the bed, grinding herbs in a stone mortar. His plain robe bore the modest emblem of the Verdant Grove Sect.
"You're lucky," the healer said without glancing up. "More than lucky. You should've been a corpse when they brought you in."
Bai Feng shifted slightly, wincing as a sharp pain stabbed through his side. "How long was I out?"
"Three days," the healer replied, applying paste to fresh linen. "Your injuries were severe. Broken ribs, fractured arm, internal bleeding… you were hanging by threads. And threads tend to snap."
The word threads made him think of how close the world had felt to slipping away in the forest.
"Treatment of this scale isn't cheap," the healer continued. "You lack the merit points to cover it, so the debt will be deducted from your future mission rewards. Until then, you won't see a single copper."
Bai Feng gave a faint nod, too tired to argue.
When the healer left, the room fell into a muffled quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves outside the narrow window.
The door creaked open again, but this time it wasn't the healer's steady step — it was hesitant, almost testing. Two familiar figures slipped in: Lin Xue and Qian Mu.
Lin Xue, tall and composed as always, carried a small bundle of fruit. Qian Mu followed, his robe faintly smelling of smoke, a grin already on his lips.
"Still breathing," Qian Mu said as he set the fruit on the bedside table. "Didn't think you'd manage that trick."
"Neither did I," Bai Feng murmured.
Lin Xue pulled a chair close but didn't sit right away. "We've been hearing things," he said after a pause.
Bai Feng raised a brow. "From who?"
"Your team," Qian Mu answered. "They claim there was… something unusual, back in the forest. A ripple."
"A ripple?"
"They said they felt a burst of qi," Lin Xue explained. "Not long. A moment, maybe less. Strong enough that they noticed, even with the Direbear close."
Bai Feng looked between them, searching their faces. "And?"
Lin Xue exchanged a glance with Qian Mu before continuing. "They've been speculating. Some think it was a breakthrough. Others…" He let the rest hang in the air.
"Others think you burned your qi essence," Qian Mu finished, tone casual but eyes watching carefully. "A desperate gamble. Explains the pulse."
The weight of their unspoken question settled in the room.
Bai Feng exhaled slowly. "And you? Which do you believe?"
"I think you're still at the Awakening stage," Lin Xue said evenly. "That much is clear."
Qian Mu added, "If you'd actually broken through, you'd be wearing that smug grin you always get when you're ahead of us."
"Or maybe," Bai Feng countered lightly, "I'm just not in the mood to boast."
Lin Xue's expression didn't change. "Or maybe your body gave you the illusion of crossing a threshold you never reached. It happens. Pain and adrenaline can trick the senses."
The memory of that instant burned in Bai Feng's mind — qi surging like a tide, strength in every vein, the world sharpening until every breath felt eternal. Illusion? No. He knew what he had felt.
Qian Mu tilted his head. "Then why didn't it last?"
Bai Feng said nothing.
Their visit didn't stretch much longer. They left with expressions that were neither satisfied nor entirely skeptical — as if they had added his silence to a list of things to watch.
Hours later, heavier footsteps approached. His team stepped in — four figures in travel-worn gear. Gao Ren, the leader, gave a brief nod. "Good to see you awake."
The air was heavier with them. They didn't sit.
"That pulse of qi…" Bai Feng began. "You thought it was a breakthrough?"
Gao Ren shook his head. "Could've been. Or a last flare before your flame went out. We didn't see it, only felt it. And then… you were still breathing. So we assumed you burned your essence."
"And if I had?"
"It would've been your choice," Gao Ren said simply.
The second-youngest, Mei Yun, stepped forward. "We still owe you. The Direbear's carcass is yours. I can help arrange the sale — it might cover part of your debt."
Bai Feng studied her face. No guilt, just matter-of-fact resolve. "Fine," he said.
They left soon after, the door shutting with a muted thud.
The room felt heavier without them.
Bai Feng leaned back into the thin pillow, staring at the rafters. The memory replayed again: the Direbear's roar, the crack of its claws on stone, and then — the blinding rush of qi. He had felt himself break through. He was certain of it. Yet his cultivation remained unchanged.
His gaze drifted to his right hand, where the plain white jade ring rested. He hadn't remembered putting it on — in fact, the memory of finding it was hazy, tangled with pain and confusion. Now, it sat cool against his skin, fitting as if it had always been there.
For some reason, when his eyes lingered on it, a faint unease stirred in his chest — like the feeling of standing at the edge of a deep, still lake and not knowing how far the darkness went beneath.
He shook the thought away.
Still… somewhere deep within, beneath the bruises and aches, there was a strange undercurrent in his body. Not stronger, not weaker — just… altered. He could not name it, nor trace when it had begun.
Whatever had happened in the forest, he suspected, had not yet finished with him.