The morning came, yan lin left home.
No longer lectures just a goodbye from parents his mother about mid thirties stood still at the door, yan lin was gone.
The imperial road to the testing grounds was a river, and Yan Lin was a stone on its bed.
He walked in the wake of others. Carriages sheathed in subtle light-formations glided past, their wheels a hand's breadth above the dust. A boy in embroidered silks practiced finger movements nearby; with a casual flick, a roadside boulder cracked clean in two. No one looked at Yan Lin. His patched clothes and solitary pace marked him as part of the scenery—the mortal backdrop against which their brilliance was displayed.
The token in his pouch felt heavier with every step.
---
A muffled whimper pulled his attention off the path.
In a clearing, a boy no older than himself was curled on the ground. Over him stood a youth in fine grey silks—the same who'd cracked the boulder. He wasn't shouting. He looked bored.
"Watch," the grey-clad boy said. He flicked his wrist.
The air around the fallen boy thickened, visible as a shimmer. It pressed down, forcing the boy's face into the dirt. It wasn't a blast, just relentless, effortless pressure.
"That's Qi control," the attacker said, his voice flat. "You don't have any. You're occupying a slot meant for someone useful."
He turned and walked away, his two companions falling in step without a backward glance. Their laughter was casual, conversational.
Yan Lin waited behind the gnarled trunk of an old pine until their figures disappeared. His heart thumped against his ribs.
He moved quickly.
The boy on the ground was shuddering, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on his face. Yan Lin didn't speak. He hooked his hands under the boy's arms, hauled him up, and half-dragged him into a denser thicket. He pressed his own half-full waterskin into the boy's trembling hands.
Their eyes met for a second. The boy's were wide with animal fear.
Yan Lin gave a single, sharp nod. Survive.
Then he turned and melted back onto the road.
---
A mile later, the grey-clad boy was waiting, leaning against a mossy milestone.
"You," he said, not bothering to straighten. "The quiet one."
Yan Lin stopped. The boy—Senior Brother Xu, the other had called him—pushed off the stone. His gaze was an appraisal, cold and dismissive.
"Carrying anything useful?"
It wasn't a question. One of his companions, a broad-shouldered youth, stepped forward and yanked Yan Lin's satchel free. He upended it. Dried travel rations, the empty waterskin, three copper coins—they spilled into the dust.
Senior Brother Xu toed through the meager pile with his boot. "Pathetic." His eyes landed on the leather pouch at Yan Lin's waist. "That."
Yan Lin's hand went to it instinctively. The broad-shouldered youth slapped it away and snatched the pouch. He pulled out the dark wooden token, snorted, and tossed it to his master.
Xu caught it, glanced at the character for Trial, and let it drop. It landed in the dirt at Yan Lin's feet.
"That's all?" Xu said, his voice dripping with genuine disinterest. "This one isn't worth the trouble."
As Yan Lin bent to retrieve his token, Xu's foot shot out. Not a kick. A step. He planted his sole on Yan Lin's hand, pinning it and the token to the ground.
The pressure was immense, blunt. The grit of the road bit into his palm as bone ground against stone. Pain, white and sharp, lanced up Yan Lin's arm. He gritted his teeth, swallowing a cry.
Xu held it for three endless seconds, his expression blank. Then he lifted his foot.
"Don't block the road."
They walked away, already talking about the quality of the inns ahead. Yan Lin cradled his throbbing hand to his chest. The shame was a hotter burn than the pain. He had not been worth defeating. He had been assessed, inventoried, and discarded.
---
"Senior Brother Xu."
The voice was cool, clear, and cut through the air like a knife through silk.
A girl stood on the path where it curved ahead. She wore a simpler, plainer version of the grey silks. Her hair was tied back severely, her face composed. Her eyes were on Xu, not Yan Lin.
Xu halted, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Junior Sister. Do you need something?"
"The Azure Dawn Sect stewards are registering candidates at the next mile marker," she said. Her tone was neutral, reporting facts. "They are using the Clear-Sight technique to observe discipline on the approach road. As we speak."
Xu's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He glanced down at his own robe, now dust-stained from the road. "Are you lecturing me?"
"I am observing," she replied, her gaze steady, "that first impressions influence the allocation of testing chambers. And that the stewards' Sight sees scuffles as… administrative lapses."
It was a chess move, not a challenge. She invoked rules, not righteousness.
Xu's eyes narrowed. He shot a final, venomous look at Yan Lin, who was still kneeling in the dust. "This isn't worth the paperwork." He jerked his chin at his companions. "Move."
They strode off, leaving silence in their wake.
The girl's eyes finally shifted to Yan Lin. It wasn't a look of pity or kindness. It was analytical, assessing a potential source of complication that had now been neutralized. She gave a slight, impersonal nod—an acknowledgment of a problem solved—then turned and walked away, following the same path.
No name. No offered hand. Just the crisp efficiency of damage control.
---
Yan Lin climbed to his feet. He picked up the token, brushed the dirt from its surface, and returned it to the empty pouch. His hand ached. His stomach gnawed at itself. Every step was a lesson.
He crested the final hill.
The testing grounds lay in the valley below. It was not a city of wonder, as he'd secretly imagined. It was a fortress of order.
Vast grey stone plazas, geometric and cold. Lines of identical white banners snapping in a methodical wind. Disciples in uniform ranks moved like parts of a great machine, their steps synchronized. At the center of it all stood a single, colossal black stele, darker than the surrounding stone, waiting.
This was not a gate to a dream.
It was the mouth of a forge.
And everything weak would be burned away.
---