Morning at Riverstone Regional Academy broke gently, but there was a subtle difference this day. The sun rose pale and cautious, slipping over the rooftops and courtyards, yet the usual light chatter of students seemed quieter, more measured. Even the wind through the trees carried a tense hush, like it was listening for something unseen.
Lin Wei adjusted the sleeves of his robe, standing just beyond the outer training grounds. He observed without moving, noting the small details—the way Zhao Ming avoided eye contact with certain students, the careful sidesteps of upper disciples as they passed, and the nervous tremor in the footsteps of newcomers trying to impress.
Ever since returning from the Whispering Ravine, the currents of Riverstone Regional Academy had shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly—but Lin Wei could feel it. The system, silent after confirming his previous mission, had stirred only once briefly at dawn, nudging him to prepare.
"Early again, huh?" Chen Yu's voice cut through the quiet as he approached, a playful grin on his face. His wooden practice spear rested against his shoulder, catching the light. "Most people are still catching the last moments of sleep. You're trying to scare them awake?"
Lin Wei offered a faint smile. "Early mornings are easier for focus. Fewer distractions, fewer eyes on you."
Chen Yu chuckled, stepping closer. "Or maybe you just enjoy standing out. Don't tell me you've become fond of attention."
"Not at all," Lin Wei replied lightly, though his eyes were scanning the grounds. Something felt off. "But discipline requires consistency. Even when no one is watching."
Chen Yu raised an eyebrow. "I suppose. Or maybe it's just your way of preparing for trouble."
Lin Wei said nothing. Some truths weren't meant to be spoken aloud.
The morning's sparring exercises were already underway. Lin Wei's pairings were rotated quickly, and each bout seemed to carry extra weight today. There was an almost imperceptible tension in the air—students aware that evaluations and rankings were imminent, some motivated by ambition, others by fear.
When he faced Zhao Ming, Lin Wei's movements were precise but careful. Each step, pivot, and redirection of Zhao Ming's crude attacks was deliberate, controlled, and smooth. He relied entirely on timing, balance, and his understanding of Qi flow, turning each of Zhao Ming's powerful but unrefined strikes against him without a single wasted motion.
The clash of their movements was intense but silent compared to the raw power on display. Lin Wei's focus was absolute, every adjustment made in an instant, every breath measured. Even as Zhao Ming lunged with force, Lin Wei's body moved like water—yielding, guiding, and exploiting the smallest openings.
The spar ended with Lin Wei standing unscathed, his calm posture unshaken while Zhao Ming gasped for breath, sweat soaking his robes. Instructor Han's sharp gaze swept the field and landed on Lin Wei, his expression approving.
"Impressive precision," Instructor Han said, his voice firm but carrying a rare note of admiration. "Technique and control like that… it shows real potential. Keep refining this focus, and you'll surpass many who rely solely on strength."
A few outer disciples, who had been observing closely, exchanged glances that bordered on unease. The quiet whispers that followed were almost imperceptible:
"He didn't even use his real strength…"
"Is it possible he's hiding something?"
"Even Instructor Han looked surprised at his restraint."
Lin Wei ignored the murmurs. They were noise, irrelevant unless they became action.
Chen Yu caught up to him after the exercise, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You're calm… almost unnaturally calm. You're holding back, but I can see the calculation in your eyes."
"I am observing," Lin Wei replied evenly. "Understanding how others expend their power reveals more than overpowering them ever could."
Chen Yu shook his head, a mixture of admiration and disbelief in his gaze. "You're changing, Lin Wei. More precise, more measured. Like you're always keeping a part of yourself hidden. I can't tell if it's patience or something else entirely."
Lin Wei didn't answer.
By midday, the academy's quiet tension was palpable. Groups of students gathered in corners, exchanging hushed information about rankings and recommendations. Even the usually indifferent inner disciples were speaking more cautiously, avoiding direct eye contact with those who had gained attention recently. Lin Wei walked through the inner paths without slowing, yet fragments of conversations reached him.
"…Outer Court placements will be finalized soon."
"Chen family pushing early… like they're afraid someone will steal ground."
"Lin Wei… did you hear? He survived the Crimson Lotus Grove and the Whispering Ravine without so much as a scratch. Impossible."
He remembered every word, filing it away carefully.
As Lin Wei walked along the stone bridge separating the outer and inner grounds, he noticed a group of upper disciples watching the courtyard below, their expressions unreadable.
"Seems the rankings are stirring more than just whispers this time," a familiar voice said beside him. It was Chen Yu, leaning casually against the railing, his usual playful grin replaced by a subtle seriousness.
Lin Wei glanced at him. "Something feels off today. I can sense… ambition, yes—but also fear. And fear leads people to take reckless actions."
Chen Yu's eyes followed his gaze toward the distant crowd. "You're right. Some are already making moves, testing boundaries, seeing how far they can push others."
Lin Wei's fingers brushed the railing as he studied the students below. "Observation is key. Knowing who is desperate or impatient allows one to predict their next move."
"Sounds like you've been practicing this a lot," Chen Yu said, shaking his head. "You're changing, Lin Wei. More calculated… almost untouchable."
Lin Wei allowed a faint smile. "Calculation is different from arrogance. And untouchable is never the goal. Adaptability is."
Chen Yu laughed softly, the tension easing slightly. "I'll admit, it's impressive. But don't let it isolate you. People fear what they don't understand—and curiosity often turns to hostility."
Lin Wei nodded, letting the words settle without replying immediately.
The afternoon brought lectures, mostly focused on theoretical discussions about refining Qi efficiently, stabilizing the body during breakthroughs, and the dangers of pushing too fast. Lin Wei listened carefully, absorbing not just the words but the subtle signals: the slight hesitations of instructors, the fleeting glances of disciples toward certain favored students.
Afterward, Lin Wei found a quiet chamber near the academy's eastern edge. The air was still, the ancient stone patterns etched along the walls pulsing faintly with the residual energy of countless cultivators who had trained there before.
He sat cross-legged and opened his interface silently.
[Host Status Update Available]
Name: Lin Wei
Age: 16
Cultivation: Qi Refining Stage (Early → Approaching Middle)
Qi Quality: High Purity
Acquired Techniques: Life Essence Extraction (Incomplete — Sealed)
System Evolution: Partial
[Warning: Technique cannot be used until Middle Qi Refining Stage is reached]
The knowledge settled quietly in his mind, not an urge, not a temptation. Power waited patiently—dormant, yet undeniably present.
Lin Wei closed his eyes and allowed his awareness to stretch outward, taking in the chamber's ambient energy, the subtle flow of residual Qi. The technique would remain untouched for now, but its presence brought a sense of calm assurance.
Later, as the afternoon sun slanted over the academy, Lin Wei returned to the herb pavilion to check on the medicinal plants he had been cultivating. Mu Xueyi was already there, arranging her collection with careful hands.
"You've been quiet today," she said, looking up. "Even for you."
Lin Wei held her gaze calmly. "I've been monitoring… not just the exercises, but the undercurrents. The subtle shifts in behavior, the minor hesitations. They tell me more than words ever could."
Her brow lifted in surprise, but she didn't comment further. Instead, she stepped closer. "Be careful," she murmured, her voice almost lost to the wind. "Some people act in shadows. Their intentions aren't always visible until it's too late."
Lin Wei's lips curled faintly. "I'm aware. Shadows can be seen if you know where to look."
She gave a small nod, lingering for a moment before turning back to her herbs. Lin Wei watched her for a heartbeat, then withdrew into the quiet corridors of the academy.
That night, Lin Wei returned to his quarters, the moon spilling pale silver light across the floor. From his storage space, he withdrew the Celestial Frost Fox Egg. It rested quietly in his palms, smooth and warm.
No cracks. No movement.
But when he allowed his Qi to brush gently against it, a soft pulse answered. The connection was subtle, growing slowly, deliberately, patient in its own right.
[Bond Stability: Increasing]
[Growth State: Dormant]
Still waiting, he thought.
And then, just as he began to relax, a sudden ripple of disturbance swept through the air—a pressure he had never felt before, something sharp, focused, and… deliberately watching.
Lin Wei froze.
From the direction of the outer courtyard, a shadow detached itself from the walls. Silent. Swift. Intent.
Something—or someone—was coming.
And it was heading straight for him.