Lin Yun watched Madam Li quietly for a long moment before asking,
"Why did you think I was captured by the imperial army?"
She let out a small, helpless sigh, fingers tracing the edge of her sleeve.
"When I was searching for you, I heard rumors. The imperial army has been questioning people—asking about strange movements, unfamiliar faces, anything related to cultivators. They're even offering money for information."
Her voice lowered, almost a whisper.
"So I thought… they were after you."
She straightened, forcing a calm smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Don't worry. I'll be more careful before going out again."
Lin Yun nodded once. He didn't offer empty reassurance. The truth was more dangerous than comfort, and both of them knew it.
That night, he returned to his room and sat cross-legged on the bed. Spirit stones were arranged in a neat circle around him, their faint glow casting soft blue light across the wooden floor. He began to absorb their qi, letting the thin energy trickle into his meridians.
But his mind kept drifting back to the cave.
That strike…
If he landed it cleanly, he could kill an ordinary Ninth Layer Qi Refining cultivator in a single blow.
His brows tightened.
But it's unstable.
The Immortal Punch was overwhelming—too overwhelming. Power surged faster than his control could follow. Against beasts, instinct was enough. Against cultivators… it was suicide.
He exhaled slowly.
I don't have a true combat technique.
The old man's methods were incompatible with his body. The demonic beasts' styles relied on bloodlines and brute force. None of them belonged to him.
Worse still, his cultivation refused to advance.
Fourth Layer Qi Refining… still.
No matter how much qi he absorbed, it piled up like water pressing against a sealed gate.
My cultivation technique hasn't even completed the first section. Phantom Step won't improve unless I reach Foundation Establishment. And brute force alone won't carry me past intelligent enemies.
After hours of futile cultivation, Lin Yun opened his eyes.
"I need an opportunity," he murmured. "A trigger."
The next morning, he went to the marketplace, moving carefully, avoiding patrols. He blended into the crowd, listening more than he spoke.
Two imperial guards stood near a street corner, speaking in hushed tones.
"Brother," one muttered, "why are we searching for cultivators? If one of them decides to fight back, we're dead."
The other clicked his tongue.
"Keep your voice down. This isn't even the imperial family's idea. It's a sect order. We're just doing their dirty work."
Lin Yun passed by without slowing.
So the sects are moving openly now.
Whatever he was being dragged into, it wasn't small.
He returned to the inn before dusk, his mind already set.
In the courtyard, Madam Li was practicing simple movements—stretching, breathing, keeping her body active despite the years without qi. The morning light caught the faint lines of tension in her shoulders, the way her hands trembled slightly when she thought no one was watching.
"Madam Li," Lin Yun said after a brief hesitation, "why don't you start training again?"
She laughed softly, a sound tinged with self-mockery.
"Are you teasing me? You know cultivation favors the young. I'm already twenty-four. Even if I restart now, it would take years just to return to my old realm."
"I'm not joking," Lin Yun replied calmly.
She paused, studying his face.
"I can help you live far longer than you imagine," he continued. "Age won't be your limit. Just… start practicing."
Madam Li stared at him, stunned.
Lin Yun's thoughts drifted inward, quiet and certain.
I've noticed it already—how my injuries heal too quickly, how my body always returns to peak condition. Every time I draw vitality from the Mysterious Land, bones realign, flesh regenerates, fatigue disappears. My body is only a vessel… and the Mysterious Land is its source.
"How many surprises are you hiding?" she asked quietly.
"Enough," he said. "Come with me tomorrow. I'll guide you."
They went to the nearby forest at dawn.
The air was cool, mist clinging to the trees like a shroud. Birds called softly overhead.
"This place will do," Lin Yun said, stopping near a small clearing ringed by old pines. "Attack me."
Madam Li raised an eyebrow.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
She didn't hesitate.
Her leg snapped upward in a sharp kick aimed straight for his face.
Lin Yun barely blocked in time, the force rattling his arms.
So fast. So precise.
Even without cultivation, her movements were deadly—honed by years of battlefield command.
"I'll stand still," Lin Yun said quickly. "Treat me like a training dummy. I need to understand your form."
Madam Li studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Don't complain."
Days passed.
Lin Yun was knocked down, thrown aside, and struck again and again.
Bruises bloomed across his ribs and shoulders. Muscles screamed with every movement. Bones ached from repeated impacts.
Madam Li believed he was sacrificing himself to help her regain confidence.
But Lin Yun was learning.
No wasted movement. Every strike targeted a vital point—throat, temple, liver, knee. Her footwork was economical, her balance unshakable even on uneven ground. She truly had been a general.
Slowly, something changed.
He began to anticipate her patterns. To redirect force instead of absorbing it. To measure strength instead of releasing it blindly.
His control over qi sharpened. His movements grew economical.
He wasn't advancing in realm— —but he was advancing in combat.
Madam Li noticed it too.
One evening, after she had knocked him down for the third time in a row, she offered her hand to help him up.
"You're not just taking hits anymore," she said quietly. "You're… learning me."
Lin Yun accepted her hand and stood.
"You were a general," he replied simply. "Your form is worth learning."
She looked away, cheeks faintly pink.
"I haven't heard that title in years."
"You still carry it," he said. "In every move."
She smiled—small, genuine, the first real one he'd seen in days.
"Thank you… for letting me remember."
Then one morning, Madam Li didn't arrive.
The forest clearing was empty.
Lin Yun waited.
An hour passed.
Then another.
His unease deepened with every passing minute.
She wouldn't miss training without telling me.
He stood abruptly.
"No…"
A cold weight settled in his chest—sharp, unfamiliar.
"I need to find her."
And for the first time since arriving in Stoneheart City, Lin Yun felt something close to fear—not for himself, but for the fragile bond he had begun to form in this merciless world.
The forest waited, silent and watchful.