The next morning, Lin Xuan's small courtyard stirred to life. The timid girl practiced her sword, each stroke steadier than the day before. The lanky boy's blade whistled clumsily but with growing precision. Wu Ming lay sprawled on the steps, groaning about sore legs while eating two buns at once.
Then came the messenger.
A disciple in crimson armbands tossed a scroll at the gate with a smirk. "Lin Xuan. Orders from the steward. You and your circle are reassigned to menial duties — triple quota, effective immediately."
Wu Ming spluttered. "Triple? We already sweat buckets hauling firewood! Do they want us to build a new mountain?"
Lin Xuan read the scroll in silence. The faint curve of his lips gave nothing away. So Meng Zhao pulls strings already. As expected.
He folded the scroll neatly and tucked it aside. "Then we complete the quota."
By midday, the group hauled stones up the mountain path, sweat running like rivers. Other disciples watched from the shade, whispers sharp with envy.
"They punish him already.""Better he breaks now than later.""Or maybe he thrives even on this…"
The timid girl's arms shook, but she pressed on. The lanky boy bit back curses and carried twice his load. Wu Ming, red-faced, puffed like a dying bellows. "Senior Brother, I think… my soul is trying to flee my body."
Lin Xuan carried his burden as if it were air. Calm. Measured. Quiet.
The more others watched, the more unsettled they became. Even punishment becomes a stage when he refuses to bend.
That evening, as the group collapsed in exhaustion, Lin Xuan sat cross-legged in meditation. His spear lay across his knees, catching moonlight.
He let his qi flow, moving through techniques he had seen: Crane Step, Stone Palm, Gale Slash. He moved them slowly, one after the other. Yet as his body traced them, something strange occurred.
The Crane's lift flowed naturally into the Gale's sweep. The grounding of Stone Palm steadied the momentum into a spear thrust.
His breath slowed. They… connect.
The System stirred.
[Observation: Host's pattern efficiency is increasing.][Notice: Partial compatibility detected between separate techniques.][Locked Module: Fusion Expansion. Progress required.]
Lin Xuan's eyes opened. So the System has layers yet unopened. And it hints… at blending, not just copying.
He said nothing aloud. But his gaze deepened. One day, these fragments will weave into something greater. Something mine.
The timid girl limped into the courtyard, hands scraped but eyes bright. "Senior Brother. We finished today. Tomorrow, we will carry more."
The lanky boy nodded, silent but resolute.
Wu Ming groaned from the ground. "I will carry… one log less tomorrow. But my loyalty remains infinite."
Lin Xuan allowed himself the faintest smile. "Then train harder. Quotas break men who lack foundation."
For a heartbeat, the three looked at him not just as a protector, but as an anchor. The seed of a circle… rooting deeper.
From the high pavilion, Meng Zhao listened to reports.
"They endure punishment without complaint.""Others watch and begin to admire.""His circle does not break — it strengthens."
Meng Zhao's hand tightened on his cup. "Then we will make admiration his noose. Spread word that he trains them in secret. Let the elders believe he raises a faction too soon."
His smile was sharp as glass. "And when the weight of suspicion crushes him, I'll be waiting beneath the rubble."
As night fell, Lin Xuan looked once more at his spear, still warm from his practice.
[System Notice: Fusion potential 3%. Threshold far from unlock.]
His lips curved faintly. Three percent is enough. It means the path exists. And one step is always enough to begin.