Ren had taken no more than ten steps from the river when he felt it.
Attention.
Not the casual curiosity of wandering cultivators — this was focused, deliberate, and layered.Someone was measuring him.
The echo responded immediately.
Not flaring.
Not retreating.
It tightened.
Ren slowed his pace without stopping, letting his breathing steady.If this was a test, reacting too fast would be the same as failing.
A shadow crossed his path.
"Hold."
Ren stopped.
The elder from the Red Hollow Pavilion stood behind him now, close enough that Ren could feel the pressure of his cultivation without looking.
Middle realm.Stable.Experienced.
Dangerous.
Ren turned slowly and bowed — not deeply, but respectfully.
"Senior."
The elder studied him in silence, eyes sharp and cold, as if trying to peel layers off Ren one by one.
"You disrupted my disciple's flow," the elder said calmly.
Ren met his gaze.
"I corrected it," he replied just as calmly.
A murmur rose nearby.
That was not the answer the elder expected.
"Corrected?" the elder repeated.
Ren nodded.
"He was testing dominance, not talent. That weakens future growth."
The elder's eyes narrowed.
"Bold words for a passerby."
Ren didn't lower his gaze.
"They're still true."
The pressure increased.
Not violent.
Crushing.
Ren felt it press against his chest — against the echo.
The echo stirred.
Once.
Then… held.
Ren's knees trembled, but he didn't kneel.
He focused on one thing only:
Control.
The elder waited.
Seconds stretched.
A low-realm cultivator nearby dropped to one knee under the pressure, gasping.
Ren remained standing.
The echo hummed — not resisting, not pushing back.
Enduring.
The elder's brow furrowed slightly.
Interesting.
"Where did you learn to stand like that?" the elder asked.
Ren exhaled slowly.
"In a place where kneeling didn't keep you alive."
Silence.
The elder withdrew his pressure abruptly.
The air relaxed.
Several cultivators stumbled, shocked.
The elder stepped back half a pace.
"Name," he said again.
"Ren."
"No sect?"
"No."
"No clan?"
"No."
The elder studied him anew.
"Then why are you walking the world?"
Ren hesitated.
This answer mattered.
"To understand what's moving," he said finally."And to be ready when it reaches me."
The elder laughed softly.
"Arrogant."
Maybe.
But his eyes gleamed.
"Or honest."
He turned away.
"You may pass."
Ren bowed once more.
"Thank you, Senior."
As Ren walked away, the elder spoke again:
"If you survive the road ahead, boy… come find Red Hollow Pavilion."
Ren didn't turn.
"I don't plan on surviving by kneeling," he replied.
A few sharp intakes of breath echoed behind him.
The elder laughed — genuinely this time.
"Good."
Ren left the river junction behind.
Only when the sounds of cultivators faded did he allow himself to breathe freely again.
His hands were shaking.
The echo pulsed gently — not triumphant.
Satisfied.
Ren leaned against a tree, closing his eyes.
That hadn't been a fight.
It had been a measure.
And he had passed without revealing what he truly carried.
Far behind him, the elder of Red Hollow Pavilion watched Ren disappear into the trees.
And spoke softly to himself:
"That one… will break something important one day."
The road stretched onward.
And Ren walked it with steadier steps than before.