Morning mist drifted lazily over the courtyard, softening the hard edges of the stone tiles as the disciples gathered for training. Birds chirped somewhere beyond the peach trees, their peaceful melody standing in stark contrast to Shen Yu's barely contained excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet.
Ling Wei stood at the center of the open yard, sword in hand, posture straight and serene. His expression was calm as always, unreadable to most—but Shen Yu had already learned that calm did not mean boring. Ling Wei's eyes held a quiet sharpness, like a lake covering a hidden depth.
"Today," Ling Wei said, raising his sword in demonstration, "we practice foundational precision techniques."
Shen Yu immediately grinned. "Foundational? So easy!"
Xiao Rong snorted from the sidelines. "Last time you said that, you almost cut off your own sleeve."
"Details," Shen Yu muttered, rolling his eyes.
Yu Zhen stood beside Xiao Rong with both hands behind his back, watching everything with that subtle, quiet gaze of his. His lips twitched—just slightly—when Shen Yu puffed his chest out like he was about to impress the entire sect.
Ling Wei exhaled softly, lifted his sword, and performed a fluid sequence: a single step forward, a twist of the wrist, and a precise flick of the blade. His movements were clean, sharp, executed with the kind of control that made even passing rookies swarm with envy.
Even Shen Yu stared in awe for a moment.
Then he coughed, straightened, and loudly declared, "I got this."
Xiao Rong leaned toward Yu Zhen and whispered, "Watch this."
Yu Zhen's mouth curved into a smirk. "Already am."
Shen Yu stepped forward, swung his sword—
and immediately over-swung.
His foot skidded.
His wrist bent wrong.
He twisted so hard he spun—full circle—like a rogue top losing control.
"Ah—a—wait—WAIT—!"
Ling Wei blinked.
Xiao Rong wheezed with laughter.
Yu Zhen quietly smirked, one eyebrow raised.
Shen Yu stumbled through three whole spins before losing his balance entirely. His sword flew from his hand, landing point-down into the earth with a sad thunk. Shen Yu, meanwhile, kept spinning another half-turn before collapsing face-first into Ling Wei's chest.
The courtyard went silent.
Shen Yu froze.
Ling Wei looked down, expression unchanged, though a faint pink crept up the tips of his ears.
"I… meant to do that," Shen Yu croaked, still sprawled against him.
"You did not," Ling Wei replied, and gently set his hands on Shen Yu's shoulders to push him upright.
Xiao Rong burst into another fit of laughter. "H-Hahaha—Shen Yu—your technique—was that the Windmill of Eternal Embarrassment?"
Shen Yu pointed a dramatic finger at him. "Say that again and I will challenge you to a duel!"
"You can't even duel gravity," Xiao Rong shot back.
Yu Zhen gave a soft chuckle—almost too quiet to hear—then added, "I believe gravity won quite decisively."
"Not you too!" Shen Yu cried.
Ling Wei stepped forward, retrieved Shen Yu's sword from the ground, and handed it back with calm eyes. "Your stance is too tense. Lower your shoulders. Breathe."
Shen Yu, cheeks red, nodded obediently.
When Ling Wei moved behind him to adjust his posture—gently tapping his elbow and guiding his wrist—Shen Yu tensed again, but for an entirely different reason this time.
Ling Wei's voice was low near his ear. "Relax. You cannot control the sword if you cannot control yourself."
Shen Yu's heart practically exploded.
Xiao Rong saw it instantly. "Ohhhhh? Our Shen Yu is turning red again."
Shen Yu screeched, "RONG, SHUT UP!"
Yu Zhen exhaled, amused. "He is rather loud in the morning."
"You're all bullying me!" Shen Yu declared, but he didn't move away from Ling Wei's hands.
Ling Wei simply said, "Again," and guided him through the movement.
This time, Shen Yu managed to get through the sequence without spinning into another dimension. His stance was bad, technique sloppy, and footwork questionable—but it was progress.
Xiao Rong clapped sarcastically. "Amazing! You stayed upright!"
Shen Yu growled. "Come fight me—"
"No," Yu Zhen interrupted. "Ling Wei said training. So training."
Xiao Rong blinked at him, surprised at the backup—but he grinned and nodded. "Fine, fine. Another time, Shen Yu."
Shen Yu muttered something about traitors.
The training continued, filled with Shen Yu's reckless attempts, Xiao Rong's laughter, Yu Zhen's quiet commentary, and Ling Wei's patient corrections. The courtyard slowly warmed with sunlight—and the sound of four disciples arguing, laughing, teasing, and learning together.