The blade wasn't sharp.
It wasn't meant to be.
But when it cracked across Fang Xi's ribs during morning sparring, something inside him shifted.
Pain exploded under the skin — clean, precise, almost surgical.
He stumbled half a step, lips tightening.
No bone fracture. No organ damage. But… deeper than it should've been.
He looked up. His opponent, Xue Min, bowed with faint apology. "Senior Brother Fang, forgive me. I lost my balance."
The onlookers whispered.
"That's the guy who passed the Beast Duty…"
"I heard he crippled someone already."
"Why doesn't he use a sword?"
Fang Xi offered a calm nod, bowed in return, and stepped back.
But inwardly, he smiled.
A test. Not by Xue Min. He's not smart enough. Someone else is watching.
Beneath the Pain
He returned to his stone room without complaint.
Jiang Ping followed with concern. "You should see the medicine hall."
Fang Xi waved him off. "It's shallow. I need focus, not ointments."
When Ping left, Fang Xi sat shirtless on the cold floor, blood seeping through the cloth. He dipped two fingers into the wound and drew a slow Qi-sensing diagram on his chest.
He activated Mirror Vein Insight, not to analyze his attacker — but himself.
He watched the way pain altered his breathing, how his Qi moved to protect, repair, harden.
Every wound sings a truth. Every scar is a lesson.
He entered deep meditation, forcing the pain into a sharpening whetstone.
A Hidden Visitor
That night, as he cultivated beneath the flickering candle, a shadow entered his room without sound.
Fang Xi didn't flinch.
"I heard you bled today," came a woman's voice.
Cool. Refined. Detached.
He looked up.
She stood beside his window — tall, slender, her robe lined with dark violet. A Senior Inner Disciple, likely Core soon. Her eyes were silver-gray.
No… not silver. Pale Qi-light. She's already at late Foundation, maybe early Core.
He stood, bowing slightly. "Then the sect truly is well informed."
She studied him. "Xue Min doesn't strike like that. He was ordered."
"I assumed as much."
"Why didn't you retaliate?"
Fang Xi's expression didn't change. "Because the one who gave the order wasn't present."
She smiled faintly. "Clever. You may call me Lu Qingyan."
He didn't speak.
She walked to his desk and picked up his diagram.
"Mirror Vein Insight," she murmured. "Rare. And dangerous if misused."
"You recognize it?"
She let it drop. "I invented it."
Silence.
Then she said, "The Inner Sect is shifting. A purge is coming. Weak disciples will be weeded out. And factions will turn on each other."
She stepped to the door, then paused.
"Stay alive, Fang Xi. I may need you soon."
And then she was gone.
Reflection and Resolve
Fang Xi didn't sleep that night.
Instead, he sat before the faint glow of his spirit flame, blood crusted on his ribs, pain slowly fading.
Lu Qingyan… a future core elder, maybe more. And she noticed me.
That wound wasn't punishment. It was a calling card.
He looked to the stone wall where he'd carved small symbols:
🞅 7th Thread – stable
⍟ Ink Faction – accepted
🜁 Han Mu – ruined
🜏 Liu Yimei – dead
❖ Lu Qingyan – interested
The path ahead is starting to take shape.