Lin waited until the following morning before trying again.
Not because he lacked the urge. That had not diminished at all. If anything, it had sharpened overnight, coiled tight beneath his skin like a held breath. But the Sword God's warning lingered too clearly in his mind for him to ignore it.
Speed would kill him.
He woke sore but intact. The hypersensitivity from the first attempt had dulled over the evening, settling into a faint awareness rather than raw irritation. The blanket brushing his arms no longer felt abrasive. Just present.
Qi still hovered at the edge of his senses, faint but unmistakable.
"You will try today," the Sword God said as Lin sat on the mat. "But only once."
Lin nodded. "For how long should I continue?"
"As long as you can stop," the Sword God replied.
That answer made him uneasy, but he accepted it.
He did not use the full method. Instead, he followed the Sword God's revised instruction, restricting his focus to a narrow band of skin along his forearm. He did not invite the qi. He acknowledged it, letting his awareness brush against the ambient flow without aligning fully.
The response came immediately.
Warmth gathered along the chosen area, thin but eager, pressing closer than it should have. Lin tightened his breathing, keeping the rhythm slow and shallow, refusing to deepen the resonance.
The pressure rose.
He stopped.
This time, the qi dispersed without snapping back violently. There was discomfort, a lingering ache beneath the skin, but no spasm. No loss of control.
Lin opened his eyes, surprised.
"That," the Sword God said, "was an improvement."
Lin flexed his fingers slowly. His arm felt tired, but steady.
"I did not feel like I was fighting it," he said.
"You were fighting it a little, but mostly," the Sword God replied. "You were redirecting it. That distinction matters."
The realization brought a quiet spark of satisfaction. Small. Contained. But real.
He did not try again that day.
Instead, Lin went out to work.
Jade Reach felt no different at first. The streets remained crowded, the air heavy with voices and movement. But as the morning wore on, something shifted. Notices appeared along major crossings, thin sheets of paper pressed flat against stone walls with fresh paste. People gathered around them, murmuring softly.
Lin paused near one such crowd.
"…the governor herself is sponsoring it…"
"…open participation, they say…"
"…no sect backing required…"
He edged closer and read the notice.
A tournament.
Organized by the Governor of Jade Reach. Open to all residents. Cultivators and non cultivators alike, with divisions between ranks and restrictions enforced. Prizes to be announced. Registration closing in three weeks.
Lin frowned.
"Interesting," the Sword God said, hovering invisibly above him.
Lin folded the paper's contents into memory and moved on, but his thoughts stayed with it. A tournament was visibility. Attention. Risk.
Opportunity.
He worked the rest of the day hauling goods near the inner canals, careful not to overexert himself. His recovery felt slightly better than it had the day before. Not dramatically so, but enough that he noticed it. His breathing steadied faster. The lingering ache faded more quickly.
That night, he tried again.
Once.
The warmth returned, controlled and thin. He guided it along the surface of his skin for several breaths, then dispersed it deliberately. The sensation faded without backlash.
He smiled despite himself.
"This is still dangerous," the Sword God said warningly.
"I know," Lin replied. "But it is not killing me."
"That is progress," the Sword God conceded with a sigh. "However, do not confuse it with safety."
"I will not."
Over the next several days, Lin settled into a rhythm. One attempt per day. Short. Controlled. Always ending before fatigue settled in. The Qi still responded too readily, but it no longer flooded him. It hesitated, if only slightly, when he disrupted the pattern.
His skin did not harden.
But it adapted.
Minor scrapes from work healed faster. The cold bothered him less. The constant sense of fragility that had clung to him since Qingshui loosened its grip.
Hope crept in quietly.
The tournament notices spread quickly. People speculated openly. Some scoffed at the idea of non cultivators participating. Others whispered about hidden motives and political games. Lin listened and said nothing.
One evening, as he sat resting after cultivation, he asked, "Do you think I should join?"
The Sword God's expression turned serious, his earlier playfulness gone.
"There are tangible rewards," he said. "Each round you win grants pills or materials. Nothing miraculous, but enough to support Skin and Bone Tempering. Better nourishment for qi. Faster recovery. Fewer mistakes from exhaustion."
Lin nodded. He understood the value of even small aids.
"If you advance far enough in the Body Tempering division," the Sword God continued, "you are offered entry into a sect. Not a prestigious one, most likely, but a foothold. Techniques. If you're lucky we join one that has the Realm 4 cultivation manual. Since like I mentioned I do not possess that knowledge and cannot help you with it."
"And the cost?"
"The cost is exposure," the Sword God said. "You will need a false name. No ties to Qingshui. No stories that invite questions. You will be watched by officials, by other cultivators, and by anyone who profits from promising talent."
He paused, then added, "Some will want to recruit you. Others may want to control you. A few may simply want to see what breaks."
Lin looked down at his hands.
"And if I lose early," he asked.
"Then you leave with pills and experience," the Sword God replied. "You continue cultivating with better tools than you have now. That alone is a gain."
Silence stretched between them.
"I will not decide for you," the Sword God said at last. "You understand the rewards. You understand the risks. Whether you step into that ring is your choice."
Lin closed his eyes briefly, weighing it.
When he opened them again, there was no answer yet.
Lin lay back on the mat, staring at the ceiling. His body ached in a familiar way now, no longer frightening.
He was not strong.
But he was improving.
Outside, Jade Reach buzzed with speculation, unaware of how closely one man listened.
Somewhere above it all, the Governor of Jade Reach prepared to gather eyes and ambition into one place.