The return from the Whispering Woods was a somber affair. The success of the harvest was overshadowed by Zhang Fan's failure. He walked at the back of the group, his bandaged hand a stark white flag of surrender, his usual fire banked to sullen embers. The other disciples gave him a wide berth, their earlier camaraderie evaporated.
Li Chen, meanwhile, found himself the subject of furtive glances. He had not sought the spotlight, but it had found him nonetheless. He had displayed a type of competence that was alien to them: quiet, knowledgeable, and devastatingly effective.
Back in the Outer Disciple sector, the group disbanded. Inner Disciple Jun gave Li Chen a long, unreadable look before striding off towards the inner peaks, likely to file his report.
As Li Chen turned towards Courtyard Nine, a voice stopped him.
"Li Chen."
It was Zhang Fan. He stood a few feet away, not looking at Li Chen, but at the ground. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
"...The hand. It's better." The words seemed to be wrenched from him. "The burning is gone."
Li Chen waited. He knew there was more. An apology or thanks wouldn't come; Zhang Fan's pride was still too bruised for that. This was an acknowledgment.
Zhang Fan finally looked up, his eyes a confused storm of resentment and reluctant respect. "How?" he finally asked, the single word containing a multitude of questions. How did you know? How are you, with your Low-Grade Root, so sure of everything?
"The library is open to all," Li Chen replied simply. It wasn't the whole truth, but it was the part Zhang Fan could understand. "Knowledge is a tool. A sharper tool than a reckless fist."
Zhang Fan's jaw tightened. For a moment, it seemed he would snap back. Instead, he gave a sharp, jerky nod. "Hmph." He turned and walked away, the conversation over. But a line of communication, however strained, had been opened.
That night, as Li Chen practiced the "Unmoving Mountain Root Technique," his mind kept returning to the anomalous vibration in the Whispering Woods. It wasn't a natural geological shift. It felt... manufactured. A deliberate dissonance in the mountain's song. It was located near a rock formation that seemed oddly placed, as if it had been assembled rather than grown.
The next day, during his herb garden duties, he found a moment to approach Elder Guo, who was inspecting a blighted Moonblossom.
"Elder," Li Chen began with a bow. "During the harvest, in the Whispering Woods, near the three-fingered rock spire... the earth feels sick."
Elder Guo paused, his gnarled fingers stilling on a wilted petal. He didn't look up. "Sick how?"
"Like a poison in the vein," Li Chen described. "A vibration. It's weak, but it doesn't belong."
The old elder was silent for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was a low murmur. "The mountain has many ailments. Some are natural. Some are not." He finally turned his head, his sharp eyes pinning Li Chen. "You have good senses. But senses without the strength to back them up are a liability. What is your cultivation level?"
"I am perfecting the Skin Tempering stage, Elder."
"Perfecting?" Elder Guo emphasized the word. "Most of your fellows are already forcing their way into tempering their Flesh. They have tingling arms and believe they are mighty. You speak of perfection."
"A strong house needs a strong foundation," Li Chen recited, repeating his core belief.
"A foundation can be buried and forgotten if a landslide comes too early," Elder Guo countered cryptically. "Focus on your own growth. Tend to your garden. Some weeds," he said, his eyes drifting meaningfully towards the upper sectors of the sect, "have deep roots and do not like to be noticed."
It was a clear warning. Stop digging. The "sickness" in the earth was known, and it was dangerous.
The following week, the sect announced a minor competition: a test of endurance and basic swordsmanship. The prize was a week of access to the "Earth Pulse Cave," a place rumored to have rich earth-attribute qi, perfect for someone like Li Chen.
The competition was simple. Disciples would spar, their swords blunted, with the goal of knocking the opponent out of a ring. The true test was to see who could maintain their basic qi circulation the longest under pressure.
Li Chen's first match was against a burly disciple who had already begun Flesh Tempering. The boy charged, his movements powerful but clumsy. Li Chen didn't meet force with force. He used the "Unmoving Mountain Root" stance, his feet seemingly glued to the ground. He deflected, redirected, and absorbed the blows, his perfectly tempered skin shrugging off the impacts that would have bruised others. He moved minimally, conserving his energy while his opponent exhausted his. After a minute of futile attacks, the burly disciple, panting and frustrated, overextended, and Li Chen used his own momentum to gently push him over the line.
It was an underwhelming victory. There were no flashy techniques. But the senior disciples watching took note. His control was unnatural.
His second match was against Bai Lian. She gave him a small, apologetic smile as they entered the ring. Her style was fluid, like a willow in the wind. She used her Wood Root affinity to create subtle, entangling energies, trying to disrupt his footing.
It was a battle of patience versus adaptability. For the first time, Li Chen felt challenged. He couldn't just root himself; he had to adjust his roots to counter her shifting attacks. It was a valuable lesson. In the end, his foundational stability proved superior. He waited for her to expend her energy, then stepped forward, his presence like a sudden mountain, and guided her to the edge of the ring.
"Well fought," she said, her smile still warm, no resentment in her eyes. "You're like trying to push over a peak."
Zhang Fan, watching from the sidelines, had a conflicted expression. He saw the value of Li Chen's method, but the fiery part of him still rebelled against its passivity.
Li Chen's final match was against a disciple from Elder Feng's faction—a sleek, arrogant boy who was already at the peak of Flesh Tempering. This disciple, named Luo, didn't just fight to win; he fought to humiliate. His movements were sharp, his blunted sword striking at nerve clusters and joints, aiming to cause pain.
"The dirt-digger's luck runs out," Luo sneered, launching a flurry of attacks.
Li Chen defended, but for the first time, he was on the back foot. Luo's speed and malicious intent were difficult to purely defend against. A stinging blow landed on his shoulder, another on his thigh. Pain, bright and sharp, flared through his body. This was the "painful moment"—the sting of facing an opponent who operated on a different, more cruel wavelength.
He couldn't win this way. He realized that pure defense had its limits against sheer aggression. Closing his eyes for a split second, he ignored the pain and sunk deeper into the "Unmoving Mountain Root" technique. He stopped trying to block every strike. Instead, he focused on making his body an unyielding part of the ring itself. When Luo's next strike came, aimed at his knee, Li Chen shifted his weight infinitesimally. Luo's sword hit the stone floor with a jarring clang, the vibration numbing his arm. The boy gasped in surprise.
In that moment of shock, Li Chen moved. It wasn't an attack, but a placement. He stepped forward, his shoulder meeting Luo's chest, not with a push, but with the solid, unstoppable weight of a settling boulder. Luo stumbled back, his balance broken, and fell out of the ring.
The victory was met with stunned silence. Luo had been the favorite. He scrambled to his feet, his face a mask of fury and shame. "You... you cheat! You used some hidden trick!"
The presiding elder, one Li Chen didn't recognize, simply said, "Victory goes to Li Chen. He understood the assignment: endurance and stability. You did not."
The prize was his. A week in the Earth Pulse Cave. It was a monumental reward. But as he accepted the token, he saw Elder Feng watching from a high balcony, his expression cold and calculating. And he saw Luo skulking away, shooting a look of pure venom back at him.
He had won a battle, stabilized Zhang Fan's volatile nature, and deepened his connection with Bai Lian. But he had also made a powerful enemy and drawn the attention of a sinister elder. The foundation was holding, but the landslides Elder Guo warned of were now gathering on the horizon.