The scorching sun beat down mercilessly from above.
A young man was drenched in sweat; it ran down his forehead and neck, completely soaking his simple clothes. His legs trembled visibly as he held the horse stance, his muscles stretched to their limit. Every breath was heavy, but Jin regulated it carefully: inhaling through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth, just as he remembered from countless stories and theories.
His teeth were clenched.
Just a little longer… just a little longer…
His body burned as if it were on fire from within, yet he did not dare relax. He knew that in a world like this, the physical body was the foundation of everything. If he couldn't endure this, he had no right to even dream of cultivating.
Seven days had already passed since he arrived at the village.
Seven days since he had lied to Old He, claiming that he and Wei were also headed to the Sect of the Eight Celestial Peaks.
Every time he remembered that lie, a stab of guilt pierced his chest.
"I'm sorry, Grandpa…" he muttered between breaths. "But it was necessary…"
He knew that without that excuse, they would never have been allowed to stay. They needed information, time, and above all, an opportunity. In an unknown world, without strength or support, naivety was equivalent to death.
That was why, even though he felt bad, he did not regret it.
Thanks to that lie, Old He had offered them a place in his home. He had even told them that when the examiner returned—in eight days—they could depart together with the selected children toward the sect.
Eight days…
Jin clenched his fists.
Sweat dripped onto the ground, forming small dark patches in the dirt. His thighs burned, his back was stiff, but his eyes shone with determination.
If this world truly is what I think it is… then I can't afford to waste even a single day.
Under the blazing sun, he continued holding the stance, pushing his body to the limit.
At that moment, he felt a steady gaze on his back.
He didn't need to turn around.
Even with his legs burning and his breathing carefully controlled, he knew exactly who it was.
Xiaolian.
From somewhere nearby—perhaps under the shade of a tree or beside the wooden fence—Old He's granddaughter was watching him in silence. Jin could picture her clearly: hands clasped in front of her chest, body slightly leaning forward, her large eyes following every one of his movements.
It had been like this since the third day after they arrived in the village.
He remembered that day well.
Xiao Lian had gone out to play farther than usual, and when Jin noticed her absence, he heard the screams. To him, they did not seem particularly dangerous: fox-like creatures the size of small dogs, with slightly longer fangs and bright eyes. They didn't look strong.
But Xiao Lian had frozen in terror.
Jin still remembered how he found her: her back pressed against a tree, crying silently, unable to scream as the creatures cautiously approached. He didn't think much of it. He grabbed a thick branch, shouted loudly, and stepped between her and the beasts. A few solid blows were enough to drive them away.
To him, it was trivial.
To Xiao Lian… it was not.
Later, when Old He arrived in a panic and embraced his granddaughter with trembling hands, Jin understood the root of that deep, instinctive fear.
Years ago, Xiao Lian's parents had died during what the old man called a beast tide.
A catastrophe.
Wild and spiritual beasts had appeared in massive numbers, devastating villages, roads, and entire regions. Although the disaster was eventually suppressed by several powerful sects, the damage had already been done. Countless families were destroyed, and the entire continent paid the price.
Xiao Lian was one of those living scars.
Jin clenched his teeth harder at the memory. His legs trembled, but they did not give in.
To her, those creatures were not just animals.
They were memories.
They were the shadow of a night that had never ended.
Jin did not turn around, but he spoke in a low voice, knowing she would hear him.
"Don't worry… there's nothing here that can hurt you."
A soft breeze stirred the grass, carrying the distant chorus of insects.
When the sun began to set, Xiao Lian took a couple of steps forward, shyness evident in every movement. She nervously intertwined her fingers in front of her chest and lifted her gaze, hesitating before speaking.
"Big Brother Jin… Grandpa says he has something important to tell you… during dinner."
Her voice was soft, almost as if she feared disturbing the air.
Upon hearing her, Jin finally relaxed his stance. His legs, tense for so long, slowly gave way. He exhaled deeply as he straightened his back; a faint crackling ran through his exhausted muscles.
He turned to look at her.
Seeing her standing there, cheeks slightly flushed and eyes bright, Jin smiled naturally—without calculation or ambition.
"Alright. Thanks for telling me, little lotus."
Instinctively, he lifted his hand and gently patted her head, ruffling her hair. In just a few days, Xiao Lian had become more than Old He's granddaughter; she had become a little sister he needed to protect.
She stiffened for a second at the gesture, then lowered her head, hiding a small smile.
"D-dinner is almost ready…" she added before turning around.
Jin watched her leave for a moment and then stretched his arms over his head, letting out another sigh.
"Let's see what the old man wants…"
Meanwhile, in another part of the village, far from the bustle, in a corner where the houses gave way to open ground, a young man stood motionless like a statue.
His eyes were closed.
His posture was straight and impeccable, as if every bone had been placed with absolute precision. If not for the steady rhythm of his breathing, anyone might have mistaken him for a corpse standing upright.
The air around him felt strangely still.
With each inhale and exhale, something invisible stirred and gathered around his body.
Wei Han was training.
Suddenly, his eyes opened.
A cold flash crossed his dark gaze and, almost at the same time, his body moved.
The wooden sword in his hand traced a precise arc through the air.
The movement was clean, controlled… disturbingly perfect.
The sound was not the faint whistle of wood, but a deep impact that split the air as if it had truly been cut. From that first motion, Wei did not stop.
One step forward.
A twist of the wrist.
An upward slash followed by a direct thrust.
His feet moved with absolute naturalness, as if the ground guided his steps. Each motion flowed seamlessly into the next, forming a hypnotic dance—beautiful to behold and lethal in essence.
If that sword had been steel, any enemy before him would already be dead.
There were no empty flourishes. Everything had purpose.
After one final horizontal slash, he stopped the sword inches from his chest. The air vibrated… and then returned to silence.
Wei slowly lowered the sword. The tension left his body as if it had never been there.
Then, without a word, he turned around and headed back toward Old He's house.
Dinner was simple but warm. Rice, vegetables, and a steaming stew filled the table. They ate in silence.
Jin noticed Xiao Lian watching him as she chewed. The girl did not realize she had been caught.
He suppressed a smile.
She immediately lowered her gaze, focusing exaggeratedly on her bowl.
When they finished, Old He set his bowl down on the table.
"Little Xiao, why don't you wash the dishes for Grandpa?"
The girl nodded and carried the dishes away.
Then the atmosphere changed.
The old man looked at Jin with a serious expression.
"Young Master Jin… could you grant this old man a favor?"
Jin lifted his gaze.
"Of course, Grandpa He."
They stepped out into the courtyard. The night wrapped around them beneath the pale moon.
Suddenly, the old man turned and made a deep bow.
Jin startled.
"Grandpa He! What are you doing?"
"I know what I am about to ask is shameless… but I can see that both young masters will be accepted into the sect."
Jin felt his chest tighten.
"The only thing this old man asks… is that during the journey, you take care of little Xiao."
The words fell heavily.
"S-she…?"
"Yes. Xiao Lian is one of those selected. Tomorrow she will depart for the trial."
Jin fell silent.
The request was not light.
It was a grandfather entrusting the most precious thing he had.
Instinctively, he searched for Wei with his eyes.
Nothing.
"Of course… you disappear when I need you most," he muttered to himself.
He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.
When he opened them again, the hesitation was gone.
He helped the old man straighten up.
"Elder He… lately little Lian'er hasn't stopped following me everywhere."
The old man looked at him in surprise.
"If she sets out on the journey with us, I will protect her without hesitation. After all… isn't that what older brothers do?"
The old man's eyes grew moist.
"Thank you… Young Master Jin."
Later, behind the house, hidden among the shadows, Wei Han sat cross-legged.
He had heard everything.
Without opening his eyes, he murmured a single word:
"Shameless."
And returned to his meditation.