( Breakthrough)
The day stretched lazily, the earlier intensity of training settling into a quiet hum across the clearing.
Most of the disciples had withdrawn into recovery—some seated beneath trees, others leaning against rocks, eyes closed as they circulated qi through tired meridians. The air felt thick but calm, like a battlefield resting between storms.
Only the stage remained alive.
Fei Fei stepped forward first.
"You want to spar?"
Her voice carried lightly, but there was intent behind it.
She was already dressed for it.
Her robe had changed into a fitted combat style—sleeves tightened at the wrist, the fabric layered but light enough to move freely. The soft orange tone of her aura seemed to bleed faintly into her presence even before she moved.
Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, strands clinging slightly to her neck from earlier exertion.
Opposite her—
Sang Sang.
Dressed similarly, though her robe carried a muted tone—gray with faint blue undertones. Simpler. Quieter.
But her eyes…
Now open.
Now seeing.
And yet—
They hesitated.
Not outwardly.
But deep inside.
What if it disappears…?
The thought lingered like a shadow she refused to acknowledge.
"Of course."
She nodded.
Stepped forward.
They faced each other.
Then moved.
At first—
Light.
Their swords met with controlled precision.
Clink—
Clink—
Testing distance. Measuring rhythm.
Fei Fei struck first—
Fast. Fluid. Her movements carried warmth, like sunlight flickering through leaves.
Sang Sang responded—
Calm. Controlled. Her blade moved like a quiet breeze, barely visible until it met steel.
Minutes passed.
The tempo changed.
Their feet pressed deeper into the ground. Their sleeves cut through the air with sharper intent.
The soft spar had become something else.
Pressure built.
Fei Fei's aura rose—
Orange. Warm. Expanding outward like a steady flame.
Sang Sang's followed—
Cool. Sharp. Like cold wind slicing through heat.
Clang—!
Their swords collided harder.
The sound echoed.
Disciples nearby opened their eyes.
"…they're serious…"
The battle stretched.
Longer. Heavier.
Fei Fei pressed forward, her attacks growing faster, more relentless. Her breathing began to roughen, chest rising sharply as sweat gathered along her brow.
Sang Sang held.
Not stronger—
But steadier.
Her movements became tighter. Cleaner.
She wasted nothing.
Clang—!
Their swords locked.
For a moment—
They stood face to face.
Fei Fei breathing hard.
Sang Sang… controlled.
Then—
A sharp crack split the air.
Fei Fei's sword snapped.
The broken half fell, striking the ground with a dull sound.
Silence followed.
Both stepped back.
Fei Fei exhaled deeply, brushing damp strands of hair from her face.
"…you've gotten stronger."
Sang Sang tilted her head slightly. A faint smile touched her lips.
"…you've gotten faster."
A small chuckle escaped her.
Then—
She paused.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her sword.
"…I think…"
A breath.
"…I'm close."
Fei Fei's eyes sharpened.
"…to breaking through?"
A nod.
"…fourth qi. Fourth step."
Fei Fei smiled.
Not surprised.
Just… pleased.
"…then don't stop here."
She stepped back, lifting her sleeve to wipe sweat from her temple.
"…you need pressure."
Her gaze shifted—
Toward Zhang Lin.
"…go to him."
Sang Sang hesitated.
Her eyes followed.
Zhang Lin sat a distance away, reading through a scroll, posture calm. But even at rest—
He felt different.
Grounded.
Heavy.
For a moment—
She simply looked.
He really looks like father…
"…should I…?"
She murmured.
Fei Fei didn't answer.
She simply raised her hand and waved.
"Brother Lin!"
Zhang Lin looked up.
His gaze softened immediately.
"Sister Sang wants to spar."
A brief pause.
Then—
He stood.
No hesitation.
"Good luck."
Fei Fei smiled, already stepping away—
Straight to Zhang Lie's side.
She didn't speak.
Just stood close.
Close enough that their sleeves brushed lightly.
Zhang Lie didn't move away.
His gaze remained fixed on the stage.
But his presence—
Subtly shifted.
"…don't go easy on me."
Sang Sang said.
Zhang Lin adjusted his stance.
"…I won't."
And then—
He moved.
The difference was immediate.
His strikes were heavier.
Not reckless—
But undeniable.
Sang Sang blocked—
Barely.
The force traveled through her arms, making her step back.
Again.
She adjusted.
Focused.
Her aura flared.
Cool.
Sharp.
But Zhang Lin didn't yield.
He pressed forward—
Not to defeat—
But to force her beyond comfort.
Her breathing broke rhythm.
Her steps faltered.
Still—
She held on.
The disciples watched closely.
"…she's enduring…"
"…against him…"
Time stretched.
Her arms trembled.
Her legs felt heavy.
But she refused to fall.
Just a little more…
Something shifted.
Deep within her core—
A crack.
Cool energy surged outward—
Clear.
Sharp.
Her aura burst—
Stronger.
Cleaner.
Zhang Lin paused mid-strike.
Just slightly.
That was enough.
She stepped back—
Breathing hard—
But standing.
"…congratulations."
The disciples reacted instantly.
"Sister Sang!"
"She broke through!"
"Fourth qi—fourth step!"
Voices rose in excitement.
Sang Sang lowered her sword slowly.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Her legs nearly gave.
"…you should rest."
Zhang Lin said calmly.
She nodded.
Each step toward the tree felt heavier than the last.
She sat down beneath it, leaning back slightly against the rough bark.
The wind brushed against her face.
Soft.
Cool.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her robe.
A breath.
Then another.
Her lips parted into a quiet smile.
"…I did it…"
Not loud.
Not proud.
But real
Elder Mi's appearance silenced everyone instantly. The air itself seemed to still as the disciples bowed deeply, their earlier murmurs swallowed by his presence.
"You broke through."
His voice was calm, yet it carried weight. As he stepped closer, he gently handed her a scroll, his movements unhurried, almost deliberate.
"You shouldn't tire your body next time."
She nodded heavily, still catching her breath, but her concern outweighed her exhaustion.
"Where's Wei?"
"He's training."
Elder Mi paused briefly, as though weighing his next words.
"He won't be around for two days."
The statement startled everyone.
Fei Fei frowned, confusion clear in her eyes. "But didn't you say we shouldn't let him out of our sight? Then why—"
"Where I sent him is safe," Elder Mi interrupted calmly. "He won't get hurt physically… but he will, mentally."
His words lingered in the air—confusing, unsettling.
"That's the only way for him to grow. You all shouldn't ask."
He gestured lightly, ending the discussion before it could continue.
"I will prepare some herbal bath water. You must soak in it for at least two hours. Do you understand?"
His tone softened slightly as he spoke to Sang Sang. She nodded obediently.
With that, he turned and left, his figure disappearing as quietly as he came.
For a moment, no one spoke.
"Zhang Wei doesn't like being alone… and his clothes aren't suitable to withstand the cold," Fei Fei said, her eyes narrowing as she glanced toward the forest, then up at the distant mountains. Her thoughts raced, trying to trace where he might have been sent.
"Elder Mi wouldn't hurt him. Let's just wait," Zhang Lin said, though his eyes betrayed his uncertainty.
"If worst comes to worst, we go in there and find him," Zhang Lie added firmly.
But deep down, they all knew… it wasn't that simple.
"He's only at the Body Tempering stage… he hasn't even reached the middle phase," Fei Fei whispered, worry tightening her voice.
Silence followed.
All their eyes remained fixed on the mountains, anxiety and unease written plainly across their faces
Sang Sang held the scroll in her hands, her fingers tracing its edges absentmindedly. The gray-blue sleeves of her robe draped softly over her wrists, the fabric still carrying faint warmth from her recent breakthrough. But her expression… had shifted.
"Two days…" she whispered.
Her newly restored eyes—still adjusting to the world—turned instinctively toward the distant mountains. The sunlight reflected faintly in her pupils, but beneath it lay something fragile.
Worry.
Fei Fei stood nearby, her white robes catching the breeze, the hem swaying gently against her ankles. But unlike her usual warmth, her posture was tense, her brows slightly drawn together.
"Safe?" she repeated under her breath, her voice tight. "What kind of place is 'safe' but still harms the mind…"
Her fingers curled slightly at her side.
Zhang Lie stood beside her, his dark robes still, unmoving despite the wind. His presence was as steady as ever—but his eyes…
Were sharp.
Watching.
Calculating.
"…A place you can't escape from," he said quietly.
That answer didn't ease anyone.
Zhang Lin, who stood a few steps ahead, didn't turn back. His dim red robe shifted lightly with the wind, the gold lining catching faint glints of sunlight. His posture remained upright, composed—but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
"…He's forcing Wei to face something," Lin said after a moment.
Not guessing.
Understanding.
"And he believes we would interfere."
Sang Sang's grip tightened slightly on the scroll.
"He's right," she admitted softly.
If they knew where Wei was—
They would go.
No matter the cost.
Fei Fei exhaled slowly, her gaze still locked on the mountains.
"…Wei doesn't like being alone."
Her voice softened.
"He hides it… but he doesn't."
A quiet truth.
Zhang Lie glanced at her briefly before looking back ahead.
"…Then he'll have to learn."
Harsh.
But not unkind.
Fei Fei didn't argue.
Because deep down—
She knew.
Their eyes remained fixed on the distant peaks, where clouds drifted slowly across jagged cliffs.
Beautiful.
Silent.
Unforgiving.
And somewhere beyond that—
Zhang Wei.
—
Miles away…
Silence.
Heavy.
Cold.
The cave breathed nothing but stillness.
Zhang Wei lay slumped against the rough stone wall, his body half-curled where he had collapsed. His robe—once soft and light—was now damp and wrinkled, clinging faintly to his skin from melted frost and exhaustion.
His breathing—
Faint.
Shallow.
Barely visible in the cold air.
Time passed.
Slowly.
Uncertain.
Then—
A twitch.
His fingers moved first.
Slight.
Unsteady.
Then his brows tightened faintly, as if reacting to something unseen.
"…mm…"
A weak sound escaped his lips.
His lashes fluttered.
Once.
Twice.
Then slowly—
His eyes opened.
Blurred.
Unfocused.
"…Where…"
His voice was hoarse, dry, almost unfamiliar to himself.
The ceiling above him was uneven, jagged rock stretching into shadow. Small droplets of water clung to the edges, occasionally falling with a faint drip… drip… that echoed through the cave.
Wei blinked slowly.
His vision steadied—
Then his body reacted.
Cold.
A sharp shiver ran through him, his arms instinctively wrapping around himself.
"…So cold…"
His breath trembled as it escaped, visible in the freezing air.
Memories flickered—
The forest.
Elder Mi.
Darkness.
Then—
Nothing.
He pushed himself up slowly, his limbs heavy, unresponsive at first. His hand pressed against the ground, feeling the rough, icy texture beneath his palm.
He winced.
"…What happened…"
No answer.
Only silence.
Wei swallowed, forcing himself to sit upright. His head spun slightly, the world tilting before settling again.
Then—
Light.
Faint.
At the cave's entrance.
His gaze shifted toward it.
A pale glow, almost blinding against the darkness of the cave.
He hesitated.
His chest tightened slightly.
"…Should I… go out…"
There was no one to answer.
No Sang Sang.
No Fei Fei.
No Zhang Lin.
No Zhang Lie.
Just him.
Alone.
For the first time—
Truly alone.
Wei's fingers clenched lightly against his robe.
His heart beat faster.
Fear crept in.
Quiet.
Persistent.
"…I don't like this…"
He whispered it, as if saying it out loud might somehow change something.
It didn't.
The silence remained.
The cold remained.
Everything remained.
Wei closed his eyes briefly.
Then exhaled.
Slow.
Shaky.
"…I have to move."
Not bravery.
Not courage.
Just necessity.
He forced himself to stand.
His legs wobbled slightly, his body protesting the movement, but he steadied himself against the wall.
Step by step—
He moved toward the cave entrance.
The light grew stronger.
The cold grew sharper.
And just before he reached it—
Wei paused.
Something felt…
Wrong.
Not just the cold.
Not just the silence.
Something deeper.
His instincts stirred faintly, uneasy.
But there was no turning back.
Not anymore.
He took one final step—
And crossed into the light.
The wind howled the moment he stepped out of the cave.
It wasn't the gentle forest breeze he was used to—it was sharp, biting, merciless. It clawed at his skin, slipped through the thin layers of his robe, and wrapped around his bones like ice.
Zhang Wei staggered forward slightly, his hand instinctively gripping the edge of the cave wall for support. The stone was cold—too cold—almost numbing to the touch.
His breath came out in uneven puffs of white.
"…Cold…"
His voice trembled, barely audible against the wind.
His robe—light, soft, meant for comfort, not survival—fluttered helplessly around him. The peach fabric that once felt warm now felt useless, thin against the vast, unforgiving cold.
But that wasn't what made his body shake.
It was what lay before him.
Snow.
Endless.
But not white.
Not anymore.
Red.
His eyes widened slowly, pupils shrinking as his gaze traveled across the land.
Bodies.
Scattered.
Some half-buried beneath the snow. Others frozen in place, blades still in hand, expressions locked between rage… and despair.
Broken weapons.
Torn banners.
Shattered armor reflecting faint light beneath layers of frost.
The silence—
It wasn't peaceful.
It was suffocating.
"What… is this…"
His voice cracked.
No answer.
Only the wind.
Wei took a step forward.
Then another.
His boots sank into the snow with a dull crunch, the sound echoing far louder than it should in the stillness. His eyes moved rapidly, unable to settle on one thing.
A hand—
Half-buried.
Fingers stiff, reaching out toward nothing.
A face—
Frozen mid-scream.
A sword—
Snapped clean in half.
His stomach churned violently.
"Ugh—"
He turned abruptly, dropping to his knees as he vomited into the snow. The white beneath him stained instantly, mixing with the already soaked ground.
His shoulders trembled.
His breathing broke.
"…No… no…"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but the image wouldn't leave.
The smell—
Faint.
But there.
Iron.
Decay.
Death.
"Elder Mi… where… where have you sent me…"
His voice was small.
Fragile.
Lost.
The wind answered again—colder this time, sharper, as if mocking him.
Wei forced himself to stand, though his legs trembled beneath him. His fingers curled tightly into his sleeves, as if holding onto something invisible.
This wasn't a battlefield that had just ended.
This was old.
Frozen.
Preserved.
Like time had stopped here.
His eyes moved again—
And then—
He froze.
Footprints.
Fresh.
Not buried.
Not frozen over.
Leading… deeper.
Wei's throat tightened.
"…Someone's here."
Or something.
His heart began to pound harder, louder, echoing in his ears.
Every instinct screamed at him to go back.
Hide.
Wait.
Survive.
But—
Elder Mi's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
"He won't get hurt physically… but mentally…"
Wei clenched his teeth.
"…So this is it…"
Not blades.
Not beasts.
Not combat.
This.
Fear.
Death.
Reality.
His legs moved.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
Each step heavier than the last as he followed the footprints into the crimson snow.
The wind grew louder.
The cold deeper.
And the silence—
Even more suffocating.
Behind him, the cave stood still.
Empty.
Watching.
As Zhang Wei walked further into a place where—
Perhaps—
He was never meant to return from.