Morning at the Fourth Sacred Waterfall arrived with the peculiar luminescence unique to boundary regions—light that seemed to originate from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously, as though reality itself hadn't quite decided which realm's laws should hold sway.

  For ordinary cultivators, this ambient spiritual energy provided an excellent environment for morning meditation. For a dragon in human form still mastering the nuances of physical limitations, it provided an excellent demonstration of the concept of "too bright."

  Xiaolong squinted against the borderline-painful radiance, discovering yet another aspect of mortality she hadn't properly considered: light sensitivity.

  In her true form, she could stare directly into the birth of stars without discomfort. Now, the gentle morning illumination felt like tiny needles stabbing directly into her brain through her eyeballs.

  "Did you sleep well?" Li Feng asked, already alert and preparing a simple breakfast. He moved with the easy competence of someone who had spent years living in wilderness conditions, efficiently managing his modest resources.

  "Sleep," Xiaolong replied, the word emerging as more accusation than answer.

  She had experienced what humans called "rest" before, but only as an occasional indulgence, never as a necessity. Her first required sleep had been restless and confusing, filled with strange half-formed dreams that mixed draconic memories with new human sensations.

  Li Feng glanced up from the small cooking fire, his expression showing momentary concern. "Was the ground too hard? I have a spare meditation mat that might help tonight."

  How could she explain that the discomfort wasn't physical but existential? That surrendering consciousness to biological necessity felt like dying in miniature? That the vulnerability of unconsciousness was anathema to draconic nature?

  "I am unaccustomed to sleeping outdoors," she said instead, which wasn't technically a lie.

  "You'll adapt," Li Feng assured her, stirring something in a small pot that produced a surprisingly appetizing aroma. "The body learns new conditions quickly when given no alternative."

  His matter-of-fact acceptance of adaptation struck Xiaolong as both naive and profound. Humans lived their entire lives adapting to circumstances beyond their control, while dragons altered circumstances to suit their preferences.

  There was something almost admirable in the resilience this difference required.

  "Here," Li Feng said, offering her a bowl of steaming congee topped with preserved vegetables and a sprinkle of medicinal herbs. "This will help restore your energy. The spiritual density at boundary sites can drain unprepared cultivators."

  Xiaolong accepted the bowl carefully, mindful of her strength. Yesterday she had accidentally crushed a drinking cup, learning through unfortunate experience that human artifacts required gentler handling than she was accustomed to providing.

  The food was simple but unexpectedly satisfying. She found herself observing Li Feng's eating habits—the efficient way he consumed exactly what he needed, without waste or excess. Even in this mundane activity, his principles were evident.

  "You've never explained," she said after finishing her meal, "why you specifically seek the Waterfall Convergence Realm. Most cultivators pursue whatever breakthrough comes naturally to their talent and resources."

  Li Feng set his empty bowl aside, his expression growing more serious. "You have a talent for asking questions that cut to essential matters."

  He was silent for a moment, his gaze turning toward the waterfall. "There are those who seek cultivation advancement for power, status, or longevity. Valid pursuits, perhaps, but not my path."

  "What is your path, then?" she asked, genuinely curious about his motivations.

  "Protection," he answered simply. "My village sits at the convergence of three rivers—a place of agricultural prosperity, but also of frequent flooding. The Azure Waters Sect has traditionally provided flood control through cultivation techniques, but as spiritual pollution increases and resources grow scarcer, they've withdrawn much of their protection from smaller settlements."

  His hands moved almost unconsciously, tracing water patterns in the air as he spoke. "My family has fished those rivers for generations. When I was seven, a great flood nearly claimed our boat—and me with it. An elder from the sect saved us, using water control techniques I couldn't comprehend at the time."

  Xiaolong listened with unexpected interest.

  Human motivations typically seemed trivial from a draconic perspective—their brief lives and limited concerns hardly worth noting—yet Li Feng spoke of local floods with the same gravity a dragon might discuss cosmic calamities.

  "So you joined the sect to learn flood control?" she prompted when he fell silent.

  "Not immediately." A small, self-deprecating smile touched his lips. "First I developed an obsessive fascination with water techniques. I would practice for hours with buckets from the well, trying to replicate what I'd seen. My family thought I'd gone river-mad."

  "What changed?"

  "Another flood came when I was twelve. Worse than before. No sect members arrived to help." His expression darkened with old pain. "I tried to use what little I'd taught myself. Managed to redirect some of the flow from our home, but not enough to save the neighbor's youngest daughter."

  Xiaolong felt an unfamiliar twist in her chest.

  Dragons rarely experienced empathy; it was unnecessary in a society where strength determined everything and weakness was culled naturally. Yet something about the simple human tragedy in his voice resonated unexpectedly.

  "After that, I knew my path. I walked to the sect's mountain and refused to leave until they either accepted me as a disciple or threw me from the peak." The corner of his mouth curled upward. "They chose the former, though I spent my first three years carrying water and cleaning for 'real' disciples."

  "Yet you eventually achieved Elder Disciple status," she observed. "Quite an advancement."

  "Water finds its level, given time and persistence." He shrugged as though his achievement were unremarkable. "Now I seek the Waterfall Convergence breakthrough not for myself, but for what it will allow me to do for my village and others like it. With that level of water mastery, I could protect the entire river basin during flood season."

  She found herself momentarily speechless. In dragon society, power was acquired for its own sake or for elevating one's position in the hierarchy. The concept of pursuing advancement specifically to benefit others, particularly those of no strategic value, was alien to draconic thinking.

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  "You seek power... to give it away," she said slowly, testing the concept aloud.

  Li Feng looked puzzled by her phrasing. "Not give away—share. Water doesn't diminish when it nourishes many fields instead of one."

  This philosophy was so fundamentally contrary to dragon nature that Xiaolong felt a brief vertigo, as though reality itself had shifted orientation.

  Dragons accumulated—power, knowledge, territory, years. The idea of deliberately channeling one's capabilities to benefit lesser beings would be considered either insanity or weakness in dragon society.

  Yet she couldn't deny the quiet dignity in Li Feng's purpose. There was something almost... beautiful in its simplicity.

  "An admirable goal," she said finally, surprising herself with her sincerity.

  Li Feng studied her face for a moment, as though searching for mockery or condescension. Finding none, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. Though I suspect our definitions of 'admirable' may differ considerably."

  The perceptiveness of this observation startled her. "What makes you say that?"

  "Yesterday, when you created that ice dragon," he began, watching her reaction carefully, "your expression wasn't embarrassment at loss of control, but annoyance at revealing too much. Like a master musician accidentally playing beyond a beginner's capability."

  Xiaolong felt a flicker of alarm. This human was far more observant than she had anticipated. "I told you my training was unconventional."

  "So you did." Li Feng rose smoothly, gathering their breakfast implements. "Which brings me back to our first encounter. I've never seen combat techniques like those you used when you manifested in the mist. They resembled no cultivation style I've encountered in my studies."

  "Perhaps you need to study more broadly," Xiaolong suggested, attempting to deflect his growing suspicion.

  "Perhaps." Li Feng's expression remained thoughtful rather than confrontational. "Or perhaps you might eventually honor your agreement to explain the nature of your unusual spiritual essence."

  Before Xiaolong could formulate a response that wasn't an outright lie, Li Feng continued. "But not today. Today I must complete my communion with this waterfall before we depart. Three more days of meditation should suffice."

  "Then I shall continue practicing the exercises you showed me yesterday," Xiaolong offered, relieved at the temporary reprieve.

  Li Feng nodded approvingly. "Good. Focus particularly on feeling the water's natural tendencies before directing it. Your technical execution is exceptional, but you still fight the element rather than harmonizing with it."

  With that, he moved to the stone dais beneath the waterfall, assuming the lotus position with practiced ease. Within moments, his breathing had stabilized, and his spiritual essence began to harmonize with the waterfall's unique energy.

  Xiaolong watched him disappear into deep meditation, envying the simplicity of his practice. Dragons never truly meditated—their consciousness was too vast, too complex for such singular focus.

  Even her current limited form contained multitudes compared to human awareness.

  She spent the morning alternating between water circulation exercises and careful observation of Li Feng's technique. By midday, she had achieved marginally better results with the "partnership" approach he advocated, though it still felt counterintuitive to her draconic instincts.

  As the sun reached its zenith, Xiaolong noticed something unusual—dark clouds gathering with unnatural speed along the mountain ridges.

  Not ordinary weather patterns, but the distinctive formation of a spiritual storm, where ambient energy from the boundary region crystallized around natural weather systems to create potentially dangerous conditions.

  For a being in her true form, such a storm would be merely an interesting spectacle. For her current limited manifestation—and especially for Li Feng in his deep meditative state—it represented genuine danger.

  She approached the waterfall, careful not to disrupt the stone dais with her excessive weight. "Li Feng," she called, pitching her voice to carry through his meditative trance. "A spiritual storm approaches. We should seek shelter."

  For several heartbeats, he showed no response, his consciousness too deeply merged with the waterfall's essence. Then his eyes opened slowly, taking a moment to refocus on physical reality.

  "Spiritual storm?" He glanced skyward, his expression shifting to concern as he registered the rapidly darkening clouds. "Unusual for this season. The boundary must be particularly thin today."

  He rose fluidly, gathering his meditation mat. "There's a cave system about half a li from here that should provide adequate shelter. We need to move quickly—these storms can escalate from benign to lethal in minutes."

  Xiaolong nodded, helping gather their limited supplies with careful restraint of her strength. Within moments, they were moving swiftly along a narrow trail that skirted the edge of the waterfall basin.

  The first fat raindrops began to fall as they reached the cave entrance—except "raindrops" was a misnomer for the glutinous globs of spiritual-energy-infused water that sizzled slightly where they struck stone.

  "Inside, quickly," Li Feng urged, ushering Xiaolong through the narrow opening.

  The cave proved larger than its entrance suggested, extending back into a spacious chamber with a high ceiling. Ancient cultivation glyphs covered the walls, suggesting it had been used as a meditation retreat in centuries past.

  "These sigils will help stabilize the spiritual fluctuations," Li Feng explained, running his fingers over one particularly complex pattern. "Early sect members carved them as protection against boundary disturbances."

  No sooner had they settled their supplies than the storm erupted in full force. Wind howled through the mountain passes with voices that sounded disturbingly sentient, while rain lashed the stone with enough force to carve new patterns in bare rock.

  Occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the cave entrance, casting stark shadows across the ancient glyphs.

  "We're fortunate you noticed the storm's approach," Li Feng said, arranging their supplies away from the cave mouth where rain might reach. "Boundary storms can destabilize a cultivator's core if they strike during deep meditation."

  "The energy patterns were distinctive," Xiaolong replied, careful not to reveal too much specialist knowledge. "I've encountered similar phenomena in other border regions."

  "You've traveled extensively, then?" Li Feng asked, seizing the opportunity to learn more about his mysterious companion.

  Xiaolong considered how to answer without falsehood.

  "I have seen many realms," she said finally. A dragon's understanding of "realms" encompassed dimensional planes humans could scarcely conceive of, but Li Feng would naturally interpret the statement within human cultivation context.

  "That explains some of your unusual techniques," he mused, settling cross-legged near the cave wall. "Different regional styles often develop unique approaches to element manipulation."

  A particularly violent thunderclap shook the cave, sending small stone fragments skittering across the floor. The temperature dropped dramatically as boundary energy leaked through the weakened dimensional barriers, creating pockets of intense cold throughout the cave.

  "The storm intensifies," Li Feng observed, his breath becoming visible in the rapidly chilling air. "This could last until morning."

  She nodded, fascinated by the tiny cloud her own breath created. Such minor physical responses had never been noticeable in her true form, where temperature extremes registered as abstract data rather than immediate sensation.

  Another blast of cold air swept through the cave, carrying with it shimmering motes of boundary essence that danced like fireflies before dissipating.

  Xiaolong observed Li Feng's subtle reaction—a momentary tensing of shoulders, quickly suppressed.

  "You're cold," she realized aloud.

  "It's manageable," he replied, though another involuntary shiver belied his words. "Cultivators at my level can regulate body temperature through meridian circulation."

  This was true, but Xiaolong noted the subtle strain in his energy patterns. His earlier deep meditation had depleted his reserves, leaving him more vulnerable to environmental extremes than he would normally be.

  "Yet you choose not to fully regulate," she observed. "Why?"

  "Complete insulation from natural conditions diminishes sensory awareness," he explained. "Cold reminds us of our connection to the physical world. Some discomfort is instructive."

  Again, this philosophy ran counter to draconic instincts.

  Dragons altered their environment to suit their preferences rather than adapting to discomfort for philosophical reasons.

  The concept was simultaneously foolish and compelling.