"That was just the warm-up," Elder Wei said, his voice flat as he tossed a small jade bottle toward the boy. "In the path of cultivation, resting is a luxury. Being injured is a state of being."
"What? We're continuing? But I'm bleeding!" Hanyuan cried out, clutching his stinging back.
"Take that pill and shut your mouth," Elder Wei grunted. "Tomorrow, you fight a Brown Bear. It has more power than the wolves but less speed. If your spear isn't faster than his paw, you deserve to be his lunch."
Hanyuan uncorked the bottle. A round, forest-green pill rolled into his palm, emitting a sharp, bitter herbal scent that stung his nostrils. He swallowed it in one gulp. It didn't feel like food; it felt like a liquid spark that dissolved on his tongue and rushed straight toward his spine. A cool, soothing sensation washed over the claw wounds, and the throbbing pain began to dull instantly.
Elder Wei applied a few quick bandages over the robe. "That pill was refined from Century-Life Grass. It cost more than most city workers make in a year. Sleep. It will heal by dawn."
They found a small, dry cave nearby as the sun dipped behind the canopy. Using the fresh wolf furs, Elder Wei made two crude beds while the forest outside grew dark and filled with the cries of nocturnal predators. For dinner, they shared simple beef jerky and a handful of wild berries. Despite the danger outside, the exhaustion of the battle pulled Hanyuan into a heavy sleep.
The next morning, Hanyuan woke up and stretched, feeling his skin pull at the bandages. He unwrapped them with a look of pure astonishment. Where there had been deep, jagged gasps, there was now only smooth, pale skin. "What a miraculous pill..." he whispered, touching his back.
"Enough daydreaming," Elder Wei called from the cave entrance. "The bear is nearby."
After a five-minute trek, they broke into a clearing bathed in the morning light. A massive Brown Bear, easily three times the size of Hanyuan, lay sprawled across a flat rock, enjoying the warmth.
Hanyuan didn't hide. He stepped out onto the grass, his silver spear held low. The bear's head snapped up, a low rumble vibrating the ground. Its eyes, small and filled with a feral territorialism locked onto the small boy in the white robes.
The bear lunged with a speed that belied its massive frame. Its paw, larger than Hanyuan's head, swiped downward. Hanyuan braced and brought his spear shaft up to block.
CLANG!
The sound of wood and metal striking the bear's claw rang out like a hammer on an anvil. Hanyuan was blasted back three steps, his boots leaving furrows in the dirt. His arms went numb, and the spear trembled in his hands from the sheer raw force of the impact.
"So heavy!" Hanyuan gasped.
Another paw came whistling through the air, terrifyingly fast. Hanyuan dived to the left, the wind of the swipe ruffling his hair. He countered with a thrust, the silver tip flashing as it slashed at the bear's thick leg. A shallow red mark appeared, but the beast hardly seemed to notice. It was like stabbing a boulder.
He rotated his spear, using the blunt end to push off the bear's shoulder as he leaped away from a crushing hug. Cold sweat trickled down his neck. Strength alone wouldn't work. He needed to be precise.
Hanyuan circled the beast, watching its heavy breathing. Now!
Sou! Sou!
The spear blurred, two rapid-fire stabs striking the bear's chest. The silver tip went through the fur, but hit the dense muscle beneath and only bit an inch deep.
The bear let out a deafening roar, its anger finally boiling over. It dropped onto all fours and charged like a landslide. Hanyuan turned and ran, his mind racing. To his left, a stunted spirit tree grew with low-hanging branches.
He didn't hesitate. He channeled every bit of training into his legs, leaping high and grabbing a branch. He swung himself up, three meters into the air, just as the bear slammed into the trunk, shaking the entire tree.
The bear looked up, baring its fangs. But Hanyuan was already coming back down.
Using the momentum of the fall, he flipped in mid-air and gripped his spear with both hands, aiming every ounce of his body weight and his will into a single point.
CRACK!
The silver spear tip hit the center of the bear's forehead. The point shattered the skull like a cracked egg. The massive beast let out a final, shuddering breath and collapsed lifelessly into the grass, pinned to the earth by the boy's weapon.
Hanyuan stood on the bear's head, his chest heaving, his hands white from gripping the shaft.
"Well done," Elder Wei said, emerging from the tree line with his arms crossed. "You used your environment. You didn't just fight like a brute; you fought like a cultivator.
Hanyuan looked down at his kills, the realization hitting him. In two days, he had survived the wolves and conquered the bear. His foundation was stable.
I'm ready, he thought, his obsidian eyes flashing. Next time I see Xueling, she won't be looking down at me anymore.
The following day, Hanyuan walked through the main gates of the Bai Clan manor alongside Elder Wei. His silver spear was tucked away in its linen wrap.
As soon as he entered the inner courtyard, he saw his parents. Lin Ruo looked as if she hadn't slept a wink, her hands wringing her silk handkerchief, while Bai Feng stood tall, though his eyes scanned his son for missing limbs.
"Father! Mother!" Hanyuan hurried over, the words tumbling out of him. "I did it! I killed three wolves! And then there was this massive Brown Bear... Father, its hide was like iron! My spear just bounced off at first, so I had to jump from a tree and use my whole weight..."
As Hanyuan recounted the gritty details—the blood, the pincer attacks, and his leap on the tree—his mother's face went through various shades of pale. "Three wolves? At ten years old?" she whispered, clutching her chest.
Bai Feng, however, let out a thunderous laugh, clapping Hanyuan on his shoulder. "That's my blood! Most kids in the city wouldn't dare face a wild cat, let alone a mountain bear. But don't let it go to your head. Experience is earned in blood, and today you've earned your first drop."
That night, Hanyuan barely reached his bed before his eyes closed. His body felt heavy, but inside, his spirit felt like a coiled spring.
The morning sun hadn't even burned off the mist when Hanyuan arrived at the training grounds. He was eager, his fingers twitching to feel the familiar grain of his spear. However, his practice was interrupted by a loud, pitiful wailing.
"Grandfather, stop! Please! I'll never do it again!"
Hanyuan turned to see a scene that was both tragic and hilarious. Elder Ling, usually a dignified and stroked-goatee type of man, was currently chasing his grandson, Minghan, around a training pillar with a willow switch in his hand.
"You little thief!" Elder Ling bellowed, his face as red as an Apple."I went to my cabinet this morning to enjoy a drop of that Spirit Wine, and what do I find? An empty flask and you face-down on the rug smelling like a distillery! That wine was a gift! You're ten! What are you doing drinking your grandfather's liquid gold?"
Hanyuan's expression turned odd. The wine stolen from Yanfeng, which Elder Ling then confiscated, has now been finished by Minghan? It was a cycle of theft that had ended in a very hungover and now very bruised Minghan.
Deciding to stay far away from the 'Spirit Wine War,' Hanyuan picked up a weighted wooden spear and moved to a secluded corner. Stab. Retract. Stab. Retract.
Some older disciples walked past, shaking their heads. "Doesn't he get bored?" one whispered. "He's been doing that same thrust since he could walk. If he spent half that time learning the Frost-Leaf Step or the Phoenix Wing Palm, he'd actually be dangerous."
Hanyuan ignored them. He didn't find it boring. Every thrust felt slightly different—the air resistance, the weight on his toes, the way his muscles rippled. To him, the spear was becoming more than a limb; it was becoming a partner.
By noon, Hanyuan walked over to the shade where several youths were resting. Minghan was there, looking like he'd been through a beehive. His eyes were mere slits in his swollen, pig-like face, and he was gingerly touching the bumps on his head.
"Rough morning, Minghan?" Hanyuan teased, sitting down.
"It... it was good wine," Minghan wheezed, though he looked like he regretted every drop.
"Where is Xueling?" another youth asked, looking around the grounds. "She's usually here by now to tell us how our Qi is thinner than water or how her clothes cost more than our houses."
A boy from a branch family spoke up, his voice hushed. "I saw her leaving with Elder Zhang early this morning. Apparently, the Elder took her to the clan's hidden Frozen Grotto. He's personally overseeing her transition into the Qi Refining realm."
"The Frozen Grotto?" Minghan groaned, his voice filled with envy. "The Qi density there is three times higher than here. And with a Mortal Core master guiding her... she might actually reach the 1st Layer before the Gathering."
"I'm so envious," the other youth sighed. "With Elder Zhang's help, my strength would rise like a kite in a gale. Hanyuan, aren't you worried? If she breaks through before you, she'll make your life a living nightmare during the competition."