The training grounds went quiet when Sect Master Chen Meiyun stepped forward. His presence demanded respect. His simple robes swayed with each step. His piercing gaze moved over the gathered disciples and landed on Wei Long.

  The air seemed to grow heavier, as if the weight of his attention alone could press down on those in his presence. The disciples bowed deeply, their murmurs of respect echoing through the courtyard. Wei Long, still catching his breath from his victories, straightened his posture and bowed as well, though his mind raced.

  he wondered.

  Master Feng stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. “Sect Master, this humble disciple did not expect your presence today.”

  Chen Meiyun’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I was out for a stroll; I happened by and saw young Wei Long’s spars.”

  Wei Long swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He had just secured his place in the core sect disciple’s class, but now the Sect Master himself was watching him. The weight of that attention was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  “Wei Long,” Chen Meiyun said, his tone measured, “you have won two matches today, securing your advancement. Do you plan on forfeiting your third match?”

  Wei Long hesitated. He was exhausted, his muscles screaming for rest, and his mind was still reeling from the intensity of the battles. Yet, something in the Sect Master’s gaze made him pause. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was a test. Wei Long straightened his shoulders and bowed again. "Yes, Sect Master, I will gladly take this opportunity to rest.”

  A murmur rippled through the crowd. Even Master Feng raised an eyebrow, though he said nothing. Chen Meiyun’s smile widened slightly. “Commendable… who wishes to have the opportunity to fight Wei Long and receive the free victory?”

  “I will face him.” A voice said sharply. The crowd parted and Li stepped forward, his expression calm but his eyes sharp with determination. Unlike Ren and Zhao, Li had always been quiet and observant, a disciple who preferred to let his skill speak for itself. He was older than Wei Long by six years. He had been in the outer sect disciple class for longer than most, but his patience and precision made him a formidable opponent.

  Wei Long’s stomach tightened. Li was not just strong—he was calculating. He had watched Wei Long’s previous matches carefully, studying his movements and weaknesses. This would not be a battle of brute force or speed, but of strategy and endurance.

  It was certain that Li would obtain two victories without effort, but the mere fact that he wanted to fight Wei Long and receive the free victory was, unlike him. “Master Feng…Sect Master, if you allow it…I would like to face Wei Long; forgoing my chance of a free victory, is that possible?”

  The training grounds fell silent again as Li’s words hung in the air. Even Sect Master Chen Meiyun raised an eyebrow, his faint smile deepening into something more enigmatic. “You wish to forgo a free victory, Disciple Li?” he asked, “Why?”

  Li stepped forward, his gaze steady as he bowed to the Sect Master. “Respectfully, Sect Master, I do not seek an easy victory. If Wei Long is willing to fight, then I will meet him with honor. A true martial artist does not shy away from challenges, even when they are not required.”

  The crowd murmured, some nodding in approval while others exchanged uneasy glances. Li’s reputation as a disciplined and principled disciple was well known, but his decision to face Wei Long—who had already secured his advancement—was unexpected. Even Ren, still nursing his bruised pride, watched with narrowed eyes, his earlier humiliation momentarily forgotten.

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  Wei Long’s heart pounded in his chest. He had been prepared to rest, to accept the free victory and celebrate his hard-earned advancement. But now, with Li stepping forward, he felt the weight of the Sect Master’s gaze and the expectations of his peers. This was no longer just about securing his place—it was about proving his worth, not just to others but to himself.

  The Sect Master turned to Wei Long, his expression unreadable. “Well, Disciple Wei Long? The choice is yours. You may rest and accept your advancement, or you may face Li in a final match. What will it be?”

  Wei Long hesitated, his mind racing. He was exhausted, his muscles aching, and his breath still uneven from the previous battles. But something in Li’s calm demeanor and the Sect Master’s probing gaze stirred a fire within him. This was a test, not just of his skill, but of his spirit. If he backed down now, what would that say about his resolve?

  “Sect Master, I will face Disciple Li.”

  A ripple of surprise spread through the crowd. Even Master Feng, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, gave a slight nod of approval. The Sect Master’s smile widened, and he gestured for the two disciples to take their positions.

  As Wei Long and Li stepped onto the platform. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and dust. Wei Long’s body ached, his limbs heavy with fatigue, but he forced himself to focus. This was the final test, not just of his skill, but of his resolve.

  Li settled into his stance. Unlike Ren’s aggression or Zhao’s speed, Li’s style was methodical, almost serene. He didn’t waste energy on unnecessary movements, and his gaze never wavered from Wei Long.

  “Begin,” Sect Master Chen Meiyun announced.

  Li moved first; he baited Wei Long into a feint, then retreated, not allowing himself to fully commit to an attack, instead probing Wei Long’s defenses, testing his reactions.

  Wei Long met each strike with a parry, his movements only when needed to. He knew he couldn’t match Li’s endurance, so he focused on conserving his energy, waiting for an opening.

  The crowd watched in silence; the tension was palpable. Even Ren, still nursing his bruised pride, couldn’t look away.

  Li’s strikes grew sharper, more insistent, but Wei Long held his ground. He noticed the subtle patterns in Li’s movements—the slight shift in weight before a thrust, the way his shoulders tensed before a slash. It was a rhythm, one that Wei Long could exploit if he timed it right.

  Then, Li feinted left and struck right, his sword slicing through the air. Wei Long barely dodged, the blade grazing his sleeve. He stumbled back, his breath coming in short gasps, but he didn’t panic. Instead, he focused on Li’s rhythm, counting the beats in his mind.

  One. Pause. Two. Pause. Three.

  On the third strike, Li’s movements slowed ever so slightly, a fraction of a second to reset. It was the opening Wei Long needed.

  As Li lunged forward for another strike, Wei Long sidestepped at the last moment, his wooden sword snapping out to strike Li’s wrist. The impact was precise, targeting the pressure point that controlled grip strength. Li’s sword slipped from his hand, clattering to the ground.

  The courtyard erupted in gasps and murmurs. Li stared at his empty hand, then at Wei Long, his expression a mix of surprise and respect. “Well struck,” he said simply, bowing his head.

  Wei Long bowed in return, his chest heaving with exertion. “Thank you for allowing me to win, Senior Li.”

  The sect master stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “Wei Long,” he said, his voice carrying across the training grounds, “you have proved yourself, not just in skill, but in spirit. Your humility, patience, and determination are qualities that will serve you well on the martial path.”

  Wei Long bowed deeply, his heart swelling with pride and relief. “Thank you, Sect Master.”

  Sect Master Chen Meiyun turned to Master Feng. “Ensure that Wei Long is prepared for the core sect disciple’s class. I will be watching his progress closely.”

  Master Feng nodded, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “As you wish, Sect Master.”

  As the crowd began to disperse, Wei Long felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Li, who offered a small but genuine smile. “You fought well, Wei Long. I look forward to seeing how far you’ll go.”

  Wei Long returned the smile, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Thank you, Senior Li. I still have much to learn.”

  As he left the training grounds, the weight of his wooden sword felt lighter somehow, though his arms trembled with fatigue. The whispers followed him, but they no longer mattered. This was only the beginning of his journey, the first step on a path that would lead him to heights he had barely dared to dream of.

  Tonight, he would rest. Tomorrow, he would begin anew, stronger than before. Wei Long looked up at the sky, where the first stars were beginning to appear. Somewhere out there, his destiny awaited. And he would meet it, sword in hand, ready for whatever challenges came his way.