The incident at the training ground did not make Li Chen popular, but it made him noticeable in a new, uncertain way. He was no longer just the "dirt-digger"; he was the one who saw things others missed. This brought a different kind of attention, one laced with curiosity and a faint, unspoken resentment.
Zhang Fan, in particular, could not let it go. The humiliation of being shown up by the "low-grade" disciple festered. His approach to cultivation, all fiery bluster and forced advancement, was the antithesis of Li Chen's. Where Li Chen sought harmony, Zhang Fan sought domination.
A week later, their paths crossed again in the Scripture Pavilion, a dusty, single-room building allotted to the Outer Disciples. The shelves were sparsely populated with basic manuals, most of them worn copies of the "Verdant Sword Body Tempering Art." The sect's true knowledge was guarded in the inner sectors.
Today, however, a senior disciple had left out a small selection of supplemental texts for cleaning. Among them was a simple scroll on the "Theory of Elemental Affinities."
Zhang Fan snatched it up first. "Hah! This is what I need. To master my Fire Root!" He scanned it quickly, his eyes glazing over the dense theoretical passages about balancing internal energy and the dangers of elemental imbalance. He grew frustrated. "Useless! It doesn't even have a technique!"
He tossed the scroll back onto the table with a dismissive flick of his wrist, sending it tumbling towards the floor.
Li Chen, who had been quietly organizing a shelf of damaged manuals, caught it before it fell. His movement was fluid, not rushed. He unrolled the scroll with care, his eyes already absorbing the first few lines.
"Fire, unchecked, consumes its vessel. Earth, without purpose, becomes stagnant. The wise cultivator seeks not to conquer an element, but to understand its place in the great cycle."
"Looking for more farming tips?" Zhang Fan sneered, crossing his arms.
Li Chen looked up, his gaze calm. "This scroll explains why your skin is cracking at the knuckles and glowing an angry red instead of a healthy bronze."
Zhang Fan flinched, unconsciously curling his injured hands. "What do you know?"
"It says a Fire Root cultivator who forces qi too aggressively creates internal friction," Li Chen explained, his voice devoid of mockery, simply stating a fact. "The skin, the first barrier of the body, bears the brunt. You're burning yourself from the inside out. You need to temper your flesh more gently, to build a vessel strong enough to contain your fire."
"Are you lecturing me?" Zhang Fan took a step forward, his face darkening.
"I am reading a scroll," Li Chen replied evenly, his focus returning to the text. "You are welcome to listen."
The other disciples in the pavilion had gone silent, watching the exchange. The logic was irrefutable, yet it came from the most unassuming among them. Zhang Fan, seething but with no retort that wouldn't make him look foolish, stormed out of the pavilion, the door slamming shut behind him.
Later that day, during his herb garden duties, Elder Guo shuffled over to Li Chen's section. The old man observed as Li Chen meticulously weeded around a patch of Sun-Enduring Grass, not just pulling the weeds, but ensuring the root systems of the spiritual grass were undisturbed.
"You have patience, boy," Elder Guo grunted, breaking his long-standing silence. "And you see the root of things, not just the leaves. That is a rarer trait than a Heaven-Grade Spiritual Root in this impetuous generation."
Li Chen finished his task before standing and giving a respectful bow. "Thank you, Elder."
Elder Guo gestured with his chin towards the manual Li Chen had been studying. "The 'Unmoving Mountain Root Technique.' A forgotten thing. Most disciples think it's a waste of time. It strengthens the connection to the earth, but offers no immediate power. Why choose it?"
Li Chen considered the question. "A tree with shallow roots is the first to fall in a storm," he said, echoing his father's words. "I would rather grow slowly, with roots that reach the core of the earth, than grow fast and be toppled by the first strong wind."
A rare, almost imperceptible smile touched Elder Guo's wrinkled lips. "The mountain does not care for the wind's opinion," he murmured, a saying so old its origins were lost. He turned to leave, then paused. "The Spirit Mushrooms in the shaded grove on the northern terrace. Their yield is low this season. See what you can discern. Don't fix it. Just... observe."
It was not a command, but an invitation. A test.
For the next three days, Li Chen spent his free moments in the northern terrace grove. He didn't just look at the mushrooms; he studied the entire microenvironment. He noted the pattern of sunlight through the canopy, the moisture content of the air at different hours, the types of insects and moss present. He compared it to the thriving mushrooms in his own section.
He discovered the problem wasn't with the mushrooms themselves, but with the flow of energy. A small, seasonal stream had shifted its path over the years, leaving the soil in the grove spiritually arid. The mushrooms were starving.
He did not divert the stream. That was beyond his authority. Instead, he presented his findings to Elder Guo: a simple diagram drawn in the dirt, showing the old stream bed and the current, nutrient-poor conditions.
Elder Guo studied the diagram for a long time. He said nothing, but the next day, a team of inner disciples was assigned to the northern terrace. They didn't speak to Li Chen, but he saw them using earth-shaping techniques to gently guide a trickle of water back towards the old stream bed.
No praise was given. No reward was offered. But the following week, when Li Chen arrived for his duties, a single, newly sprouted Heartwood Leaf was sitting on his designated workbench. It was a low-grade spiritual herb, but one known for its stabilizing properties, perfect for the "Heart-Mind" stage of the Acquired Realm that was still far in his future. It was a message, clearer than any words.
That night, as Li Chen practiced the "Unmoving Mountain Root Technique," he felt a difference. As he focused on sinking his consciousness into the earth beneath the sect, the pulse he felt was stronger, clearer. It was as if the mountain itself was acknowledging his presence, his respect. The slow, steady strengthening of his body felt more natural, more deeply integrated.
He was not just drawing in qi. He was building a relationship with the very world he stood upon. And in the quiet of the night, the foundations of a future that would shake the heavens were being laid, one patient, unyielding breath at a time.