The wind screamed through Xuandao Sect like a wounded beast.
It howled between black-tiled roofs, made wooden shutters slam.
Frost coated every cracked tile, spreading in crooked, spidery lines that split with every gust.
The courtyard was a swamp of half-frozen mud, rutted with footprints that hardened overnight and turned into jagged traps by morning.
Boots sank.
Sandals stuck.
Wei Lian went barefoot.
He walked through it in silence.
Blood oozed from old cuts on his soles.
Frozen mud crusted the wounds instantly.
He didn't look down.
His breath fogged in front of him.
He watched it swirl.
Vanish.
The bell clanged overhead, a cracked, ugly sound.
It echoed off crumbling walls, shaking ice loose in tiny avalanches.
Disciples stumbled out of their barracks.
Eyes puffy.
Faces bruised.
Some limped.
Others had bandages wrapped around ribs, shoulders, arms in slings.
Jin Xiu walked last.
His black eye was turning yellow at the edges.
He didn't sneer today.
He didn't even speak.
Han Zi was there, but he wouldn't meet anyone's gaze.
His breath whistled through broken teeth.
He kept spitting blood in the dirt.
They spread out without being told.
They knew.
Elder Mu waited for them like a crow on a corpse.
Thin arms folded.
Eyes cold.
He said nothing at first.
Just let the wind cut them.
They shivered.
Not just from cold.
From what was coming.
Mu finally rasped:
"Drills."
No one groaned.
Not anymore.
Not after the last beating for hesitation.
They dropped into stance.
Some too slow.
Mu barked once.
"Again."
Wei Lian moved before the word finished.
He didn't look at Mu.
Didn't look at the others.
He felt the frost bite his feet.
Mud hard as stone.
Blood cracked at his heels.
He inhaled.
Cold filled his lungs.
Burned.
Made him cough blood once.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.
Breath.
Anchor.
Sink.
Channel.
Infuse.
Qi crawled under his skin like thorns.
Fought him.
He forced it.
He punched.
Air cracked like brittle wood.
Mud sprayed.
Blood flicked in red arcs.
He didn't flinch.
He reset his stance.
Again.
He heard them.
"He's insane."
"He doesn't stop."
"He's not even human."
Jin Xiu's voice, lower.
Dark.
"He'll kill us all in the trial if they let him."
Wei Lian didn't blink.
Let them talk.
He felt every line of the strike in his bones.
Every tendon screaming.
He didn't hide the pain.
He used it.
Fed it to the ember in his dantian.
Inside, it burned at 2nd layer.
Hot.
Hungry.
Demanding.
And beneath it—
The crack.
It pulsed.
Wider than before.
Ready.
Almost.
He forced himself to focus.
Anchor.
Qi pooled in his belly.
Thick.
Vicious.
Sink.
He crushed it down his spine.
Forced it into the path of his arm.
Channel.
It bucked.
Leaked.
He strangled it.
Infuse.
His fist shuddered with power.
He punched.
The crack of air was real.
Sharp.
Blood welled from split knuckles.
Steam rose from it in the cold.
He didn't smile.
Didn't curse.
He did it again.
And again.
Disciples dropped around him.
Fell to knees.
Vomited into the mud.
Cried.
Begged.
Some left.
They didn't come back the next day.
Mu walked among them.
Slow.
Heavy.
Boots crunching ice.
He stopped behind Han Zi.
"Your stance is garbage."
He slammed his foot into the boy's back.
Han Zi collapsed face-first into frozen mud, screaming.
Mu didn't blink.
He turned.
Walked past Jin Xiu.
"Better."
He watched Jin Xiu's punch.
"But you're leaking Qi at the elbow. Again. Idiot."
Jin Xiu seethed but obeyed.
When Mu passed Wei Lian, he paused.
Longer than with the others.
Wei Lian felt it.
But he didn't look up.
Didn't speak.
He deliberately loosened his shoulder.
Let Qi leak at the wrist.
He punched.
Solid.
Real.
But flawed.
Mu watched.
Eyes narrowed.
"Again."
Wei Lian obeyed.
Mu didn't praise.
Didn't curse.
Just moved on.
Wei Lian watched him go in his peripheral vision.
Good.
Don't look at me too hard.
He knew the truth.
He felt it in his bones every night.
When the courtyard emptied, he stayed.
They limped away, sobbing quietly.
Jin Xiu glared once.
But didn't speak.
Wei Lian stayed.
Alone.
The wind howled louder at dusk.
It tore at his robe.
Made the banners above the gate whip and fray.
He dropped back into stance.
Breath.
Anchor.
Sink.
Channel.
Infuse.
Qi didn't fight as hard now.
It knew him.
Feared him.
He punched.
The air cracked.
He exhaled steam.
Blood ran freely from his fists, turning mud black.
He didn't stop.
Again.
And again.
Until his arms went numb.
Until his breath came in ragged gasps
Until he couldn't see straight.
He collapsed onto his knees in the mud.
He breathed.
Slow.
Controlled.
He felt the ember in his dantian burn.
2nd layer.
For now.
The crack pulsed.
Hot.
Wide.
Hungry.
Almost.
He dragged himself to his feet.
He walked to the black creek.
Stepped in without flinching.
Water numbed him instantly.
He sat down, submerged to his ribs.
The cold stole his breath.
Blood spiraled away in the dark water
He watched it.
Eyes half-lidded.
Breathing.
Inside, he felt it.
The crack growing.
Ready to split.
Ready to make him stronger.
But not tonight.
Tomorrow.
He let the cold claim him for a while longer.
Because tomorrow wasn't for rest.
It was for breaking himself until nothing was left but power.