When the storm faded and Yan Rui's breathing steadied, news of her breakthrough spread like fire through the Hidden Land. From the training plateau to the deepest valleys, every elder, every child, and every villager lifted their hearts in celebration.
The clang of bells echoed from the stone towers. Lanterns were lit along the winding paths. The rivers shimmered under the evening light, reflecting the joy that filled the land. It wasn't just a moment of one girl's triumph—it was the pride of an entire people.
Yan Rui's name passed from mouth to mouth, carried with admiration and affection.
"She did it."
"She broke the human limit."
"The youngest of the Yan family—already walking the true path."
Even the youngest children, still years away from their first training, danced and shouted her name. For the elders, there was quiet pride, a warmth that reached beyond words. They had guided her hands, shaped her steps, and watched her endure without faltering. Her success was theirs as well.
But what made the Hidden Land truly different was not power—it was heart.
In the outer world, when one person rose higher, others grew restless. Power there was treated like fire—envied, feared, and stolen. Kings guarded it. Nobles conspired for it. The strong often crushed the weak to feed their own ambition.
Yet here, within this quiet and mysterious valley, strength was never a weapon—it was a shared light.
When one grew stronger, all felt lifted.
When one broke through, the whole land rejoiced.
The Hidden Land lived by a truth forgotten elsewhere:
"A river flows because all its drops move together. One's rise is everyone's strength."
In the days that followed the celebration, the Hidden Land did not rest.
The training plateau, once silent under the storm, now echoed with renewed life.
Every young disciple carried the same thought—if Yan Rui could break the wall of flesh, then perhaps they, too, could find their own path forward.
On the third morning, a small group gathered around her beneath the old stone pavilion. The sun filtered through the mist, glinting off the practice spears and damp training stones.
Luo Tang, ever the first to speak, leaned forward eagerly.
"Yan Rui! Tell us how it felt when you broke through! Was it like—BOOM? Or more like… a spark exploding in your chest?"
Yan Rui chuckled softly. "It wasn't a boom or a spark, Tang. It was… pressure. Like holding up the sky inside your body until it finally lets go."
Ye Chen folded her arms, her sharp eyes studying every word.
"So it's not just about training harder. You said something about focus and inner will—what exactly did you mean?"
Yan Rui nodded. "When I pushed my blood energy too fast, it almost tore me apart. Power without balance only burns you from the inside. The real strength comes from control—when your will becomes steady enough to guide the power, not chase it."
Wu Chen, quiet as always, tilted his head. "Then the will comes first… the body follows?"
"Exactly," Yan Rui replied. "Your body can be trained, but your will is the anchor. Without it, your blood turns wild—like a river with no banks."
Yunkai Tao, who had been listening silently, finally spoke. His calm tone carried a gravity that made the others straighten unconsciously.
"She's right. We always think endurance is about pain, but it's also about patience. The body takes time to understand what the will demands. If we force it too soon, the foundation will crack."
Yan Rui smiled faintly. "That's what nearly happened to me. I let my energy rush ahead of my control. If not for the elders' elixirs—and their faith—I might have failed entirely."
Chen Mei, who sat cross-legged nearby, looked worried. "So even if we train hard, we can still hurt ourselves?"
"Training without awareness," Yan Rui said gently, "is like walking with your eyes closed. You'll move, but not forward."
Wu Ping leaned forward with his usual curiosity. "Then what did you do differently the last time? Before the breakthrough actually happened?"
Yan Rui thought for a moment. "I stopped fighting the pressure. I accepted it. My blood energy wanted to burst free, but instead of pushing harder, I guided it—slowly, deliberately—through every part of my body. Ninety-nine times, it failed. But on the hundredth… it became one flow."
Her eyes softened. "That was when I realized—strength isn't just power. It's harmony between what you want and what your body can bear."
Ye Chen exhaled slowly. "So, refining blood isn't just about energy… it's about understanding yourself."
Yan Rui nodded. "Exactly. Don't chase the storm. Let it come to you."
There was a moment of silence before Luo Tang grinned. "So basically—you suffered so we don't have to!"
The group laughed, and even Yan Rui smiled. "Maybe a little. But suffering teaches more than comfort ever will."
Wu Chen murmured quietly, "We'll remember that."
Yunkai Tao rose, his calm eyes sweeping across the group.
"She's shown us the path—blood, will, and awareness. Let's not waste it. The next time we train, we move as one. Everyone's growth strengthens all of us."
Luo Tang punched his palm, grinning wide. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get stronger!"
As the laughter faded into the twilight, the elders gathered once more at the stone pavilion overlooking the training plateau. The air still hummed faintly with the traces of the storm that had marked Yan Rui's awakening. Faint red glimmers shimmered across the mountain walls, like distant echoes of her strength.
Tong Chen stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes scanning the valley below where the children trained even in the dimming light.
"Their spirits are burning higher than ever," he said quietly. "Her courage has become their spark."
Yan Zhi Lan nodded. "And that spark must be guided before it turns into impatience. They are ready for the next step, but not yet ready to face it alone."
Liang Shan chuckled from beside them, his deep voice carrying warmth.
"Then it's time we give them a goal worth chasing—a true trial to temper what they've learned."
Xiao Ling smiled. "A test not of strength alone, but of balance and unity."
Tong Chen's gaze hardened slightly. "Yes. The Great Foundation Trials. Each team will train to refine their blood and body in harmony. They will learn endurance, willpower, and cooperation. No single child will walk ahead—only those who move together will advance."
That night, under the pale silver moon, the announcement spread across the Hidden Land.
From the youngest novices to the senior trainees, all gathered before the central stone altar. The elders stood in a half-circle, their presence commanding but calm.
Tong Chen's deep voice echoed through the open field:
"The time has come to forge your foundations—not through rivalry, but through unity. You will train, not as individuals, but as one current flowing through many rivers. Only those who understand the balance between body and will can stand at the doorway to true cultivation."
The children listened in silence, faces lit by flickering torchlight. Yan Rui stood among them, her expression calm but her eyes bright with understanding.
When the elders dismissed them, groups immediately began to plan their paths.
Yunkai Tao gathered his team first. "We'll focus on control. Our blood energy must flow steady, like a river, not wild like fire."
Ye Chen nodded. "And I'll record everyone's cycle timing. If we can match our breathing and rhythm, maybe our strength will rise together."
Luo Tang grinned, bouncing on his heels. "Finally, a challenge that sounds like fun! Let's see who lasts the longest!"
Wu Chen smiled faintly. "You'll burn out first if you don't focus, Tang."
Chen Mei giggled softly. "Then I'll be ready with herbs when you do."
Across the field, Yan Rui gathered her own team.
Wu Ping's eyes sparkled with excitement. "You really think we can reach the same stage someday?"
Yan Rui nodded firmly. "Yes—but not by copying me. You must find your own balance. What worked for me may break someone else."
Li Fen smiled softly. "Then teach us to feel it, not just force it."
Yan Rui's voice softened. "That's the first step. The body is our vessel—but the will steers it. Learn to listen before you move."
For several days, the plateau became alive with rhythm—children meditating, practicing, and learning to synchronize their movements with their breathing. The elders observed quietly, offering corrections only when needed.
By the seventh day, the difference was clear.
The once-chaotic energy that filled the air now pulsed in harmony. The laughter remained, but beneath it was focus—a shared drive that gave the Hidden Land its quiet strength.
Watching from the ridge, Yan Zhi Lan spoke softly to Tong Chen.
"They are changing, just as we hoped. Her courage lit the flame—but now, it burns across them all."
Tong Chen nodded. "Then let it burn. The Great Foundation Trials will not only shape their bodies but their hearts."
As the sun dipped below the mountains once more, the red light reflected across the valley, warm and fierce.
And so began a new chapter for the Hidden Land—
where one child's courage became the foundation for many,
and the harmony of their hearts marked the first true step toward a future that none could yet imagine.