The evening air carried the sweet scent of earth as He Renxiao made his way along the stone path to the Joyful Virtue Pavilion. Lanterns swayed gently from the eaves, casting light guiding his steps. He was still feeling a little under the weather—though he wasn't sure why. He hadn't actually been sick after all.
He paused at the base of the pavilion steps, allowing himself a moment to gather strength.
"You're actually attending?" came a voice from behind him. "I thought surely you'd use your illness as an excuse to escape Shizun's lecture on the five elemental formations."
He Renxiao turned to find Li Yuan approaching, arms folded inside the sleeves of his blue robes. Though they shared a father, Li Yuan had inherited their sire's handsome features and commanding presence, while He Renxiao favored his mother's more delicate appearance.. a fact that had never failed to displease Sect Leader Li.
"And give you the satisfaction of calling me weak? I think not," He Renxiao replied evenly, though there was no true bite in his words. "So I guess you heard.."
Li Yuan's mouth curled up at one corner. "Stubborn as ever. Shuyi said you should rest another day."
"Shuyi worries too much."
"Perhaps because you give him reason to."
They climbed the steps together in a familiar silence. Their relationship had always been complicated—bound by blood yet separated by status. Li Yuan was the legitimate son, the acknowledged heir, raised in the sect leader's residence amid luxury and respect. He Renxiao had been the secret shame, hidden away until circumstances had forced his existence into the light.
He remembered clearly the day Lan Qiang had found him, though he had been only seven years old at the time. His mother and his brother had died just before, an attack on the brothel by robbers he was sure—that escalated and caused the whole place to be rid of..
He had been sitting in an alley behind the brothel, alone, when a tall figure had appeared before him. Even at nineteen, Lan Qiang had carried himself with the dignity of one twice his age, his eyes holding a wisdom that seemed ancient.
Something had flickered across Lan Qiang's face then—recognition, perhaps, or suspicion. He had studied He Renxiao's features intently..
His mother had never spoken of his father except to say that he was a powerful man who could not acknowledge them. It wasn't until later that he learned the truth—just that nine months after his mother left the sect, He Renxiao had been born, carrying the unmistakable eyes of the Li bloodline.
Lan Qiang had taken him directly to Azure Cloud Sect, presenting him to a thunderous Sect Leader He as his illegitimate son. The scandal had nearly destroyed his father's recent betrothal, but Lan Qiang had been immovable. "The boy has spiritual potential," he had declared. "I will take him as my disciple."
The memory faded as they reached the pavilion entrance. Inside, the familiar scene of evening lessons awaited. Jing Peishi was already seated, his straight posture reflecting his senior status among the disciples. Nan Feng sat cross-legged nearby, hastily tucking away what appeared to be a half-eaten rice cake.
Mo Shuyi occupied his usual place to the right of the central seat reserved for their shizun, calmly arranging scrolls and writing implements. When Mo Shuyi spotted He Renxiao, his eyebrows rose slightly and he frowned. "I believed we agreed you would rest another day."
"I feel fine," He Renxiao replied, taking his place on the cushion beside Nan Feng and not making eye contact with the older male.
Nan Feng immediately pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "No fever, at least. But you're still too pale."
He Renxiao gently removed her hand, still feeling awfully uncomfortable with touch. "I've been pale my entire life, Shimei."
"Not this pale," she insisted, but was interrupted by the arrival of Lan Qiang.
Their shizun entered with his customary grace, seeming to glide rather than walk across the polished wooden floor.
Though now in his twenties, Lan Qiang remained as striking as he had been when He Renxiao first met him—tall and imposing. His dark eyes missed nothing, immediately falling on He Renxiao.
"I see you've decided my spell worked too well," he remarked dryly, settling onto his cushion. "Or perhaps not well enough, as you clearly remain delirious enough to believe yourself recovered after a single night."
The other disciples poorly concealed their amusement as He Renxiao bowed his head quietly out of embarrassment.
"This disciple felt well enough to attend, Shizun."
Lan Qiang studied him for a moment longer before sighing. "Very well. But you will remain after the others have left so I may check your meridians. That fever disrupted your qi flow more than you realize."
He Renxiao nodded his acceptance, knowing better than to argue. Lan Qiang had always been particularly attentive to his health—a fact that had once caused resentment among some of the other disciples.
He remembered his first winter at the Azure Cloud sect, when a severe cold had nearly developed into pneumonia. Lan Qiang had canceled three days of lessons to personally tend to him, mixing medicines and monitoring his breathing through the night.
Li Yuan had been furious at the special treatment, confronting He Renxiao once he had recovered.
"You think because he found you personally, you're special?" a twelve-year-old Li Yuan had demanded.
"He only watches you so closely because you're weak. A burden he's obligated to bear." The words had cut deeply, but as years passed, He Renxiao came to understand that Lan Qiang's concern stemmed from something more complex than mere obligation.
There was guilt there—guilt for bringing a brothel child into a world that judged him harshly, guilt for exposing him to a father who viewed him as little more than an embarrassment. Guilt for what would happen in the near future.
"Tonight," Lan Qiang announced, drawing He Renxiao back to the present, "we will discuss the interaction between the Five Elements and the formation of protective arrays." He unrolled a scroll containing intricate diagrams.
"Jing Peishi, explain the principle of mutual generation."
Jing Peishi straightened, always eager to demonstrate his knowledge. "Wood generates Fire, Fire generates Earth, Earth generates Metal, Metal generates Water, and Water returns to generate Wood. When creating a protective array, one must arrange the elements in this sequence to promote the flow of spiritual energy."
"And the principle of mutual restraint?" Lan Qiang turned his gaze to Li Yuan. "Wood restrains Earth, Earth restrains Water, Water restrains Fire, Fire restrains Metal, and Metal restrains Wood," Li Yuan recited confidently. "This principle is employed when designing arrays meant to suppress or contain specific types of spiritual energy."
He Renxiao watched the interaction with mild envy. Though he excelled in practical application of array formations, the theoretical foundations had always been more difficult for him to grasp. His early education had been minimal—learning to read and write from his mother between her appointments with clients. By the time he arrived at the Azure Cloud Sect, he had been years behind his peers in scholarly knowledge.
"Li Meiling," Lan Qiang called, seemingly sensing his wandering attention, "demonstrate the hand position for activating a Water-dominant protective array."
He raised his hands, fingers forming the complex configuration with practiced precision. This, at least, was something his body remembered perfectly, throughout his years of being a cultivation disciple and then after the downfall of the sect, a military general—the former best, that is, his fingers flowed through the positions like water itself, each movement precise and fluid.
A satisfied expression crossed Lan Qiang's face. "Good. You may have missed morning lessons, but your muscle memory remains intact."
The approval warmed him more than he cared to admit. Such moments still felt like rare treasures to be carefully preserved. He missed it, since he couldn't experience it anymore.
The lesson continued as evening deepened outside. Lanterns burned lower, casting longer shadows across the pavilion floor. He Renxiao felt fatigue creeping through him but stubbornly fought against it, maintaining his posture and attention through sheer force of will.
He nearly missed when Lan Qiang asked the disciples to pair off for practical application. Nan Feng immediately turned to him with a smile. "Partners?"
Before he could respond, Mo Shuyi intervened. "Nan Feng, you will work with Jing Peishi. Li Yuan will partner with me. He Renxiao will observe for tonight."
Nan Feng looked ready to protest, but a slight shake of the head from Mo Shuyi silenced her. He Renxiao felt a flash of irritation—they were treating him like the sickly child he had once been, not the capable cultivator he had become. They had done this in his past like too, before..
"I can participate," he said quietly but firmly, seeming like a huffy puppy more than anything.
Lan Qiang regarded him with knowing eyes. "You can, but you should not. Your spiritual energy is still recovering. Pushing yourself now risks disrupting your meridians further." His tone softened almost imperceptibly. "There is no shame in resting when needed, Li Meiling."
But there was shame—at least to He Renxiao. Every concession to weakness felt like confirming what his father had always believed (or what he believed he did): that he was inadequate, unworthy of the Li name. The brothel child who should never have been acknowledged. The stain on the sect leader's reputation. Also, he hadn't actually been sick!
He remembered clearly the day he had overheard his father speaking to the sect elders when he was nine years old. "The boy is weak-constituted.. I acknowledge my blood runs in his veins, but he will never be fit to lead.." And even if he wasn't exactly the most accepting or presant—he still cared for the puppy like boy..
That night, He Renxiao had made a vow to himself never to show weakness again. He had trained until his hands bled, studied until his eyes could no longer focus. Every illness, every limitation, he fought against with single-minded determination. And yet here he was, sidelined once more by his treacherous body.
He watched in silence as his sect siblings paired off, forming the protective arrays with varying degrees of success. Nan Feng's energetic approach contrasted sharply with Jing Peishi's methodical precision. Li Yuan and Yin Shuyi moved in perfect coordination.
"Your fundamentals have improved," Lan Qiang commented to Nan Feng, "but you're still rushing the transition between Earth and Metal. The energy must settle before redirecting."
"Yes, Shizun," she replied, adjusting her stance with a determined expression. As the practice continued, He Renxiao felt an unexpected touch on his sleeve. Looking down, he found Lan Qiang had silently moved to sit beside him.
"Your mind is troubled," his shizun observed quietly, keeping his voice low enough that the others wouldn't hear.
He Renxiao didn't respond immediately, watching Li Yuan execute a perfect transition between elements. He didn't want to reveal anything he knew from where he was now so.. All he replied with was: "I dislike being a spectator."
"There are lessons to be learned in observation as well as participation." Lan Qiang followed his gaze to where Li Yuan was demonstrating the array. "You see his form as perfect, yet notice how his left wrist tenses unnecessarily. It creates a subtle disruption in the flow."
He Renxiao looked more closely and realized Lan Qiang was right. There was a barely perceptible hitch in Li Yuan's movements—something he had never noticed before.
"Each of you has strengths and weaknesses," Lan Qiang continued. "Jing Peishi's precision comes at the cost of adaptability. Nan Feng's creativity sometimes undermines her structure. Mo Shuyi's perfectionism can limit his innovation." His eyes shifted to He Renxiao. "And you push yourself beyond reasonable limits, refusing to acknowledge that rest is also part of cultivation."
"I've rested enough in my life," He Renxiao said quietly. The thought had an underlying message—though, of course they wouldn't understand it.
Lan Qiang's expression softened with understanding. "I remember finding you in that alley. You were ill then too—half-starved and feverish. Yet when I offered my hand, you stood on your own before taking it."
He Renxiao hadn't realized his shizun remembered that detail. Years had passed since then—He Renxiao suspected about 8, at least in this time period. Not even He Renxiao himself remembered that, though for him that was over 20 years ago.
"I didn't want to appear helpless."
"You were nine years old and alone in the world. You had every right to be helpless."
Lan Qiang sighed.
"But even then, your pride was formidable." A memory surfaced—one He Renxiao rarely allowed himself to revisit. His mother, coughing blood into a handkerchief but still insisting on braiding his hair for the new year celebration.
"We must always present our best face to the world," she had told him, her fingers trembling but determined. "They will try to make you feel small, Renxiao. Never let them see that they succeed."
His mother had been beautiful and proud until the end. Perhaps that was why He Renxiao fought so hard against any sign of weakness—it was the only inheritance she had been able to give him.
"The lesson is concluding," Lan Qiang said, rising smoothly to his feet. "Remember to practice the sequence before our next meeting. Coordination between partners is essential for these protective formations to reach their full potential."
The disciples bowed respectfully. "Yes, Shizun," they said in unison.
As they prepared to leave, Nan Feng approached He Renxiao. "Will you join us for evening meal?"
The gesture touched him, though he was careful not to show it. "Perhaps. I must speak with Shizun first."
Nan Feng nodded, hesitating as if wanting to say more, before following Jing Peishi and Li Yuan out of the pavilion. Mo Shuyi lingered, arranging scrolls with deliberate slowness. Almost like he was scared to leave the two alone. That was funny since Mo Shui never paid such close attention before, even in their past life as the first and only 'tyrannical ruler' of both cultivation realms.
"You need not stay, Shuyi," Lan Qiang said. "I will ensure He Renxiao is safe." Mo Shuyi bowed. "As Shizun wishes." He cast one last concerned glance at He Renxiao before departing, his footsteps fading into the night. That look made He Renxiao extremely uncomfortable and sent a shiver down his spine.
When they were alone, Lan Qiang gestured for He Renxiao to sit opposite him. "Remove your outer robe and extend your arm."
He complied, exposing his wrist for Lan Qiang to check his pulse. His shizun's fingers were cool against his skin, pressing with practiced precision to assess the flow of qi through his meridians.
"Your heart meridian is still blocked," Lan Qiang observed after a moment. "The fever has receded, but its effects linger." He reached into his sleeve and produced a small packet. "Brew this tonight and drink it before sleep. It will help clear the remaining heat from your system."
He Renxiao accepted the medicine with a respectful nod. "Thank you, Shizun."
Lan Qiang regarded him thoughtfully. "The heart meridian governs more than physical health, Renxiao. Its blockage can reflect emotional burdens as well."
He tensed slightly. These conversations—the ones where Lan Qiang attempted to address the wounds that went deeper than flesh—always made him uncomfortable.
Lan Qiang frowned, but after a moment he lifted his gaze to meet He Renxiao's own. "Will you tell me what burdens you now that we are alone?"
"I am not burdened, Shizun."
"No?" Lan Qiang raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you still flinch when your father enters a room? Why do you push yourself to exhaustion rather than accept help from your sect siblings? Why, after several years, do you still hold yourself apart as if expecting to be cast out at any moment?"
The questions struck too close to truths He Renxiao preferred not to examine. "My past does not define me."
"No, but it shapes you—as does your resistance to it." Lan Qiang's voice was gentle. "Your mother did right by you to give you that milk name.. 'Ren'—endurance, perseverance. 'Xiao'—filial, respectful. You honor her memory through your strength, but perhaps it is time to honor yourself through acceptance as well. Make He Renxiao your own name."
He Renxiao looked away, unable to meet his shizun's penetrating gaze. Outside, the night had fully descended, stars emerging like scattered gems across the velvet sky. Somewhere in the distance, a night bird called—three melancholy notes that hung in the air before fading. It was only a matter of time before things went south.