Xuanji leaned slightly to peer over the edge; jerking back quickly as he was met with nothing but white void. He straightened as Jianyu's laugh cut through the fog.
"Not scared of heights, are you, cousin?" Jianyu called back.
"Only of falling," Xuanji replied, patting his mount's neck.
"The great Wei Xuanji, afraid of something?" A female voice—Fei Luhua, probably—murmured. "How refreshing."
"Some fears are just good sense," Xuanji said, tightening his grip on the reins.
Behind Xuanji, Jin Mo's armor clinked with each step, the guard's hand making that distinctive leather-on-metal sound whenever it drifted toward his saber.
The sun finally burned through, revealing a mountain path barely wider than his horse's shoulders. An Quan raised his hand putting a halt to the procession. "Refinement break!," he announced, dismounting in a single fluid motion that made Xuanji's stiff legs ache in anticipation.
Xuanji slid from his saddle, muscles screaming in protest. The narrow ledge offered just enough space for their small party to gather in a loose circle. He stamped feeling back into his legs while the others dismounted.
"Form up," An Quan ordered, his voice sharp. "Basic circulation drill. We need to be sharp."
The man was slight in frame but carried himself with the deliberate economy of someone who'd survived countless missions. Everything about him was understated—from his muted gray robes to the way his dark eyes assessed without revealing. The only hint of personality was the meticulously maintained short sword at his hip, its pommel worn smooth from years of handling.
"Is that really necessary?" Jianyu rolled his shoulders. "We're just hunting bandits."
"Bandits who've massacred three guarded merchant caravans in our territory." An Quan replied without inflection. "Circulation. Now."
They arranged themselves in a loose circle. Xuanji found a position at the edge, placing himself where he could observe without drawing attention. Jianyu and his two cronies took center stage, of course. Jin Mo stationed himself at Xuanji's back, a silent shadow.
Fei Luhua positioned herself opposite Xuanji. She was all lean muscle and barely contained energy, hair cut short against her neck. Her training clothes were standard disciple blue but modified for maximum mobility. She'd had the sleeves shortened, waist cinched tight. She caught him looking and narrowed her eyes.
"Problem?" she asked.
"Just getting my bearings," Xuanji replied, dropping his eyes.
An Quan raised his hands, palms facing inward. "Begin."
Everyone shifted into the first position, palms rising from waist to chest level. Xuanji mirrored the motions, the familiar dance of qi cultivation. He pressed two fingers to his inner wrist, using the technique he'd stolen from Physician Qiao. Everyone drew qi from the ground up through their soles, circulating it through their meridians in smooth, continuous loops. Xuanji felt the familiar ache as his Heart Meridian protested, patching the worst of the leak before he had another training incident.
"Gathering Waters!" An Quan's voice rang out. "Feet shoulder-width, weight settled; hands rise as fingers unfurl."
Xuanji complied, exhaling slowly as he moved. He was careful not to disrupt the fragile balance he'd achieved, while his Heart Meridian was attempting to leak like a sieve. Qiao's technique created just enough pressure to keep the qi contained. It wasn't perfect but it was functional for now.
"Diverting Current!" An Quan stepped forward. "Sliding step, palms circling to redirect force." Jianyu glowed; his qi flowed textbook-perfect. Fei Luhua hesitated, stance off.
"Hidden Eddy," An Quan barked. "Quick backstep, hands drawing in to guard." Fei snapped her feet back, shoulders squaring. Her qi brightened instantly.
"Flowing Between Stones!" he called next. "Quiet pivot, hands tracing opposing arcs to find openings." Xuanji pivoted, sweat prickling his brow.
"Breaking Wave!" An Quan surged ahead. "Sudden surge forward, both palms thrusting to break stance." Fei rode the wave flawlessly; Xuanji's legs trembled under the strain.
An Quan circled him. "Hold thirty breaths. Feel the earth." Fei glanced over, smirk blooming. Xuanji gritted his teeth, sinking deeper as thighs screamed. "Deeper, Xuanji," An Quan urged. "Your foundation is still shallow." "Yes, Master," Xuanji gasped, dropping lower despite the burn.
"Now, light movement drill," An Quan announced after what felt like an eternity. "Basic footwork pattern. No qi enhancement yet—save your reserves."
They began moving through a simple sequence—forward, diagonal, back, pivot. Xuanji concentrated on each placement, making sure his weight transferred correctly. The pattern was easy enough, but precision mattered. One misstep on this narrow ledge would mean a very long fall.
"Faster," An Quan called.
The pace doubled. Xuanji's breath came harder now, but he kept up, watching the others from the corner of his eye. Jianyu moved like water, each step flowing into the next without hesitation. His two followers matched him, their movements synchronized like dancers in a well-rehearsed performance.
Then Fei Luhua broke formation.
She executed a sudden sideways flip that carried her body parallel to the ground, twisting mid-air to dodge an imaginary strike before landing in perfect stance, ready to counter. The movement was so powerful she put a shoe shaped crack in the rock beneath her feet.
"Show-off," Jianyu muttered, but there was appreciation in his voice.
An Quan's expression didn't change. "Save the Soaring Sparrow Step for when you need it, Disciple Fei."
"Just staying sharp," she replied, but her eyes found Xuanji's, challenging him.
He looked away, but couldn't help glancing back. The way she had executed that technique was mesmerizing. Her body had seemed to defy gravity itself, propelling her with such force it made his own feet feel like they were encased in stone.
"Final drill," An Quan announced, breaking Xuanji's fixation. "Light technique practice. Conserve your energy, we're almost done here."
The group formed a loose circle again. Jianyu began a series of hand forms, his palms glowing faintly as he channeled a thin stream of qi through his fingers. Jin Mo drew his saber halfway, running a thread of qi along the blade until it hummed softly.
Fei Luhua caught Xuanji staring again. This time, instead of glaring, she smirked and repeated the Soaring Sparrow Step—a smaller version, barely leaving the ground, but still impossibly fluid.
"Watch and learn if you're going to waste time staring, Wei," she said. "Though I doubt you could manage even the children's version."
She pivoted away, leaving him with the sting of her words .
Xuanji tried to focus on his own drill, cycling through the basic forms of Flowing River Palm without qi enhancement. His hands moved through the patterns—Gathering Waters, Diverting Current, Flowing Between Stones—while his mind replayed Fei's jump over and over.
A movement technique. That's what he needed most. The Flowing River Palm was effective for close combat, but useless if you couldn't close distance or evade quickly. His damaged Heart Meridian leaked too much qi for sustained enhancement, making him vulnerable to any opponent with decent mobility.
He watched Fei execute another small hop, this time with a half-turn that let her land facing the opposite direction. The only sign her feet touched the ground were the craters, and dust clouds she left behind.
If I had that technique, he thought, _I could actually survive this mission. _
He glanced at the others, each displaying their specialized skills with casual confidence. Even Jin Mo's heavy frame moved with purpose and power. Only Xuanji stood apart, his movements hollow shells without qi to fill them.
The bandits they were tracking supposedly had a skilled leader for this region. someone who'd evaded Wei Clan escort forces twice already. Someone with techniques worth stealing.
Xuanji's fingers tingled at the thought. If he could just make contact with one of them—a brush of skin, a moment of connection—he might be able to copy a movement technique. Something to keep him alive long enough to build his own arsenal, piece by stolen piece.
"Enough," An Quan called, ending the drill. "Mount up. The bandit camp should be just beyond the next ridge." he announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Better sightlines. Less chance of loose rocks."
=====
The sun dipped below the horizon as they rode through the next pass. Cold air bit at Xuanji's skin and he pulled his robe tighter. The thought of bandits nearby made every rustle of wind sound like a footstep.
"Make camp," An Quan ordered, signaling for another halt. "We'll continue at first light."
Xuanji's foot caught in the stirrup as he dismounted. He stumbled forward, catching himself with outstretched palms against the rocky ground. His horse snorted. By the time he'd dusted off his hands, Jin Mo had already driven three tent stakes into the earth. Fei Luhua's tent canvas snapped taut in the wind as she secured the final corner. Jianyu was halfway through unloading the cooking supplies, each item placed in precise formation around the fire pit.
"You." Jin Mo's voice cut through the clamor. "First watch."
Xuanji nodded, pretending not to notice the smirk Jianyu tossed his way. He helped secure the tents, fingers numb from the cold and the day's exertion. When they finished, the camp formed a rough triangle, tents at each point, a small fire flickering at the center.
He took his position on a rocky outcrop overlooking the narrow approach. It was barely more than a ledge, but the vantage point was clear. He scanned the terrain for anything out of place.
The night was quiet. Too quiet.
A flash of movement caught his eye. He squinted into the darkness, heart rate quickening. Just a trick of the light? He watched the spot, muscles tense, but nothing stirred. Maybe he'd imagined it.
Back at the camp, the others gathered around the fire, their voices carrying in low murmurs.
Xuanji scrambled down the rocks, almost losing his footing in his haste. "I saw something," he said, scanning their faces. "Movement on the ridge."
Jianyu raised an eyebrow. "You sure it wasn't your own shadow?"
Xuanji insisted, "Could have been a scout," even as Jianyu's dismissive snort made it clear what he thought of the idea.
"These mountain rats don't employ scouts," Jianyu said, voice dripping with condescension. "They're barely organized enough to wipe themselves."
Fei's lips curled into a smirk. "Maybe it was a rabbit. Should we prepare the nets?"
An Quan studied him. "We'll keep an eye out. But we won't waste energy on phantoms."
Jianyu leaned back, hands crossed behind his head. "Don't worry, cousin. We'll protect you from the big, bad shadows."
Xuanji opened his mouth, the words "I know what I saw" forming on his tongue, but never making it past his lips when—
The air whistled with the sound of death. Arrows rained down fast. Piercing the tents with brutal precision. Xuanji hit the ground, heart pounding in his throat. Shouts echoed through the canyon as the others scrambled for cover.
"Bows!" An Quan shouted. "They've been watching us!"
Xuanji's mind raced. The arrows came from all directions. A tent collapsed under the barrage, fabric tearing like paper
Then, nothing.
The mountain fell silent.
Xuanji lifted his head. The others were already rising to their feet, scattered but unhurt. A few arrows stuck from the ground like spindly weeds. Jin Mo stood beside him, eyes narrowed, an arrow shaft protruding neatly from his shoulder. With a terrifying calm, he reached up and pulled it free, the wood snapping with a wet crack. Blood seeped through his armor, but he moved like he didn't notice.
His stare was pure rage.
"Jianyu." An Quan's voice cut through the aftermath. He was on his feet, dust streaking his robes. "Report!"
"Everyone's fine," Jianyu said, voice high with adrenaline. "Barely grazed us."
The words had hardly left his mouth when Jin Mo exploded with anger. With a sound like thunder, a crackling burst of Qi tore through the air, shredding the half-collapsed tent with terrifying force. scattering fabric and supplies in all directions.
Xuanji's ears rang.
"An ambush," Jin Mo snarled, his voice like a growl from deep within his chest. Without another word, he blurred into the darkness, saber drawn, a shadow of fury against the night.
An Quan shook his head, brushing dirt from his robes. The motion was almost resigned. "Impulsive," he muttered.
He turned to the rest of them, expression colder than the wind. "You heard him. We move now. Engage."
The disciples shared a single glance before rushing out of the ruined camp. Xuanji's breath came fast, boots slipping on loose gravel. Jin Mo and An Quan were already specks in the distance, drawn toward the treeline like iron to a magnet. The slope stretched ahead, uneven and treacherous, but Xuanji didn't slow. The air thinned as they closed the gap.
When they reached the bottom of the ridge, chaos erupted.
The bandits were stronger and more organized than Xuanji expected. Two of them stood out, their presence commanding as they barked orders. They were bulkier, better armed, moving with cohesion uncommon to mountain thugs. A smaller group flanked them, less disciplined but no less eager. Jin Mo's saber sliced through the air with a whistle, drawing a spray of blood as it caught a bandit across the forearm. An Quan moved like water between three attackers, his blade flickering too fast to track, each strike punctuated by a grunt or scream. Steel rang against steel, the echoes bouncing off the canyon walls. A bandit with a scarred face lunged at Jin Mo, only to collapse when Jin Mo's boot connected with his sternum with a sickening crack.
They had the upper hand, but the fight was far from over.
"Go!" An Quan's voice cut through the din. He didn't break his focus even as he parried a strike aimed for his neck. "Take the stragglers!"
Xuanji halted, breathless, as a smaller group of bandits peeled off from the main fight. They sprinted full force toward the disciples, ferocity in their eyes.
"Here they come!" Fei yelled, her expression wild with challenge.
Xuanji's heart slammed against his ribs. He pressed his palms together, feeling for the pulse of qi. His Heart Meridian strained under the pressure, but he held on.
"Don't let them close!" Jianyu shouted, drawing a thin line of glowing qi along his blade. He braced for impact, weapons raised.
The two groups clashed, bandits howling as they rushed in. Fei Luhua was the first to engage, her body a blur of motion. She used the Soaring Sparrow Step, each leap and twist defying logic, qi-enhanced kicks landing like hammers. A bandit flew back, hit the ground hard, then another, and another. She became a whirlwind, impossible to track, the confidence in her movements like a challenge to the world.
Jianyu followed close. His blade was a streak of blue, the qi-imbued edge cutting through the air with surgical precision. Each swing left a glowing afterimage, and each afterimage trailed the grunt of a falling enemy. They'd barely closed on him before they were down, his strikes clean and perfect.
Xuanjin's hands shook. His Qi slipped through his fingers like water, each attempt to focus leaving him more exposed. A bandit charged, relentless. He deflected blow after blow, the impact jarring his teeth. He just needed a second. A second to breathe, to employ Qiao's technique. But the bandit pressed harder, keeping him on the defensive, each parry pushing him back
"Xuanji!" Luhua's voice cut through the chaos. "Watch your right!"
He spun, barely deflecting a knife aimed for his gut. The blur of a second bandit joined the first, both pressing him with relentless ferocity. He needed a breath, just a moment to readjust.