While the elders continued their discussion, unaware of anything else around them, two figures emerged quietly from the shaded path below the ridge. A tall, strong man and a smaller, sharp-eyed woman moved with practiced ease, blending with the shadows. Their eyes never left the young disciples and elders, but they made no sound, no indication of their presence.
"They've grown well," the man murmured, his voice low, meant only for the woman beside him. "Look at him—YunKai Tao. His stance, his focus… the energy is already flowing through him, though he doesn't yet fully understand it."
The woman nodded, adjusting the strap of the basket she carried. "And Luo Tang… just like his father. Mischievous, energetic, impatient… but resilient. Strong enough to endure the elders' tests, and clever enough to find his own path."
The man's gaze swept over the children at the training ground. "They've worked hard… far harder than I expected. The tanks, the Dorgons, the water—they've learned endurance, teamwork, and patience. But now it's time for the next lesson."
"They don't know we're here," she whispered, a small smile touching her lips. "It's better this way. Let them grow under the eyes of the elders. Our guidance is theirs when needed, but the true awakening must come from within."
The man's strong hands rested on his knees as he leaned slightly forward, observing Tao lifting a small bucket with precise control. "See how he controls his breathing… the alignment of his body. The Qi is stirring in him. Soon, he'll sense his first acupoint. And when that happens, everything changes."
The woman watched Luo Tang, who was laughing with Liang Yin, splashing water playfully while still managing to carry the weight of his tank steadily. "That boy… he learns through action, through chaos even. It frustrates him to be contained, yet he channels it. His energy will guide him, but only if he learns discipline and patience. Just like we taught him at home, only amplified here."
The man nodded slowly. "Yes… every ounce of frustration, every moment of laughter, every playful misstep—they are all part of the current. They do not yet know it, but these small ripples will strengthen the river within."
"She is right," the woman said softly. "And YunKai Tao… his steadiness balances Luo Tang's chaos. Together, they will push each other. The Dorgons, the tanks, even the central giant… these challenges will teach them more than we could at home. Our guidance is in the background now. Let the elders shape them further."
The man's eyes softened as he observed the children working in teams, carrying buckets, sharing laughs, helping one another steady the tanks. "It's remarkable," he whispered, almost to himself. "They've grown so quickly. In just months, the timing of each task has decreased dramatically. Soon, they will not just carry water—they will feel it. The acupoints will respond. The rivers will awaken inside them."
The woman's lips curved in a quiet smile. "And they will not be aware of us. They will believe the elders alone have guided them. But when the time comes, we will be there if needed. For now… watch and let them surprise us."
The man shifted slightly, remaining hidden behind a small ridge. "Yes… and their laughter. Even now, see how it flows through the group? That energy is part of the current. Play, joy, frustration—they are all threads weaving into their growth. We could never have planned this, but the results are undeniable."
The two of them stood silently, watching the moonlight glint off the empty Dorgons below, seeing the children's movements, their coordination, their subtle gestures, the first sparks of awareness in their eyes. They whispered back and forth, careful not to disturb a single leaf or draw attention, discussing the progress of their children and the other young disciples, marveling at how the Iron Path had taken the lessons from home and amplified them tenfold.
Finally, after several minutes, the uncle leaned close to his wife and said softly, "Let the elders continue. Soon, the first acupoints will awaken. And when they do… we'll know every drop of sweat, every laugh, every struggle was worth it."
The shadows deepened across the hill as the children's laughter and footsteps echoed faintly below. The couple lingered quietly, their eyes fixed on the young disciples, speaking only to each other, voices low and private, as if sharing secrets with the night itself.
"They are beginning to sense it," the man murmured, his voice calm, steady, like the flow of a slow river. "The energy… the blood moving through them. But they do not yet understand the magnitude of what they are touching. There are one hundred and eight acupoints in the human body," he continued, tracing a mental map with his finger, as though showing her the invisible lines of power. "Each point is a door, and opening even one is no small feat. Most masters spend decades, sometimes lifetimes, unlocking them. And yet, the children feel… only the first faint echoes."
The woman tilted her head thoughtfully, her sharp eyes catching the glint of moonlight on a distant rock. "Yes. They sense, not open. They do not yet have the mastery, nor could any human at their age. But the elders have provided them with tools—the elixir, the disciplined training, the emptied tanks, the mirrored challenges of Dorgons and hills. These are not to open the acupoints, but to forge the body, the blood, the energy into a vessel ready to contain it one day. That is the true art—they are learning to feel the currents, to recognize the river, without ever touching the gates fully."
He nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he watched YunKai Tao adjust his stance while holding a tank, the slight tremor in his muscles betraying the effort even as his focus sharpened. "Through the elixir, their blood moves differently. It warms, it pulses, and their veins hum with energy. Their muscles and bones are pushed, forged within the limits of a normal human body, tempered by pain, yet steady. The tanks, the Dorgons… all of it is preparation, training them to endure, to sense, to refine before the first acupoint truly awakens."
"And it is remarkable," she whispered, a note of awe threading her voice. "Even now, they can feel the river inside—the flow of energy, the rhythm of blood, the subtle strength that ordinary humans do not perceive. This is why the elders' liquid is so important. It opens awareness, not power. It does not cheat them into strength; it teaches them to listen to what their body is already capable of, to respect its boundaries while expanding them."
The man's lips curved into a small, wry smile. "And yet, they think they are simply filling water, carrying tanks, racing one another. They do not know the elixir has connected them to their inner pulse, their hidden potential. Each drop reinforces their resilience, sharpens reflexes, and prepares the rivers of their bodies for what will come. Only later, much later, will they begin to feel the acupoints respond to intention, to breath, to their own command."
"They are human," the woman said softly, almost to herself. "No matter the training, the elixir, or the guidance, they have limits. But these months… this year… it is enough. Soon, very soon, their first channels will shimmer, their first points will whisper. The rivers will awaken fully, and they will understand the true lesson behind the tanks, the hills, and the Dorgons. Until then, let them feel, let them play, let them forge themselves quietly, without knowing they are on the edge of something extraordinary."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Even the elders are unaware of the full effect. Tong Chen, Yan Zhi Lan, Xiao Ling, Liang Shan—they see strength, patience, and endurance, but they do not see the subtle energy weaving through the children's blood. Not yet. That is our quiet miracle. Our children, guided but unknowing, stepping toward the first awakening of the acupoints, just by feeling their own rivers."
The woman's eyes softened as she watched Luo Tang splash water playfully toward Liang Yin, the small joke moment masking a deeper truth. "Even their laughter is part of it," she said. "Qi flows not only through discipline and effort but also through joy, awareness, and subtle harmony. Every spill, every stumble, every shared cup of elixir, every synchronized breath—it all shapes the river inside."
"Yes," he agreed. "The tanks may empty. The rivers may seem hidden. The acupoints may remain closed. But the children are learning to listen. And listening is the first step to mastery."
The woman took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the moonlight and the distant flicker of the village lanterns. "By the time the first acupoints awaken, their blood and energy will be strong, their senses sharp, their minds steady. They will be ready—not just to sense, but to direct, to guide, to flow. But that is a moment for the future. For now… let them feel, let them carry, let them awaken their inner river."
The man reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "Let them flow. Let them grow. The river is inside them, waiting. And when the time comes, it will surge."
They lingered a moment longer, watching the children below—their hands on the tanks, their muscles straining, their laughter mingling with effort. Each drop carried more than water now; it carried potential, awareness, and the quiet promise of rivers waiting to awaken.
"Soon," she said, her voice almost a whisper, "the first acupoints will speak."
"And when they do," he replied, "they will know that all the work, all the struggle, all the laughter… it was always flowing inside them."
With that, the couple melted back into the shadows, silent witnesses to the children's journey, unseen by elders or disciples alike, carrying the hope, pride, and quiet certainty that the rivers were awakening—and that the first currents of the acupoints would emerge in their own time.
But what the children were feeling, what the elders had quietly guided them toward, was more profound than any of them could yet comprehend. The elixir, the relentless labor of the tanks, the Dorgons, the hills—they had all been instruments, not ends. Each drop of sweat, each aching limb, each moment of frustration and laughter had forged their bodies to the edge of what a human vessel could endure. The sense of flow, the warmth in their hands, the pulse in their veins—it was not the awakening of acupoints yet, but a subtle, almost imperceptible breakthrough: a movement beyond ordinary human limitations.
"Foundation Establishment," the man murmured quietly, almost to himself, as if naming it gave it shape. "This is the beginning. Not cultivation, not mastery—but the first leap from normal to forged. The rivers inside them stir differently now, reshaping their blood, their muscles, their very bones to endure what most mortals cannot."
His partner's eyes shone in the moonlight. "Yes. They are only starting to awaken their inner rivers. It is nothing but the threshold—the door to something far greater. Soon, their hearts, minds, and bodies will align, and the real journey of cultivation will begin. But for now, they must remain unaware of the magnitude of what they have started."
Below, the children moved with tired precision, carrying the last buckets to their tanks. Luo Tang laughed, nearly tipping his water as he jogged toward the Dorgon. Liang Yin shot him a playful glare, but a hint of admiration softened her scolding. Ye Chen, Wu Chen, and Chen Li exchanged tired smiles, each sensing, vaguely, that something within their bodies had shifted—something far larger than any muscle ache or prideful satisfaction.
"It feels… different," YunKai Tao whispered to Ye Chen, voice low so the others couldn't hear. "Like… I can feel my bones working… my blood moving faster… stronger… but not in pain."
Ye Chen nodded slowly. "I feel it too… it's like my arms aren't just arms anymore. They're… channels. My heart is pumping differently. Everything inside me feels… awake."
Luo Tang, overhearing them, grinned widely. "I thought I was just running faster today, but… my legs—they're like… spring-loaded or something. I didn't even think I was moving this fast!"
Yeotu from Team 3 leaned against the stone, smirking. "You all sound like old masters already. But I swear, even I feel… lighter. Like my body is… not just mine anymore. Like it's been reforged."
Meanwhile, the elders watched silently from the ridge. Tong Chen's stern gaze softened. "They are at the threshold," he murmured. "The Foundation Establishment stage. The vessels are ready. Soon, awareness will deepen, and true acupoint sensing will begin. But the danger is in arrogance—this is only the beginning. Many will falter if they push too quickly, or if desire outweighs discipline."
Xiao Ling's voice floated gently across the night. "Do not mistake this breakthrough for mastery. The rivers are awakened in form, not yet in command. The children can feel the currents—the warmth, the pulse—but they cannot yet guide them fully. Patience and precision will teach them to direct these flows, just as flowing water must be channeled or it will erode the banks."
Yan Zhi Lan added, her gaze distant yet full of quiet approval. "The children have stepped beyond ordinary limits. Their bodies have reached the peak of what a natural human vessel can endure. Their muscles, bones, and blood have been refined. This is the Foundation Establishment—a new baseline from which cultivation begins. From this point onward, every lesson, every tank, every mountain climb, every drop of water they carry is a tool to awaken, sense, and guide the acupoints. This is the first chapter of true cultivation."
On the slope, the children continued their work, unaware of the deeper magnitude of their progress. Yet even as they laughed, teased, and urged each other onward, subtle signs of transformation flickered through their motions. Their reflexes were sharper, their endurance greater, their coordination near flawless. And somewhere deep within, the first currents of Qi, stirred by months of disciplined training and the elixir, pulsed quietly, waiting for the next step.
Luo Tang paused mid-run, catching his breath, and looked at Liang Yin. "Do you feel it? Like… my legs aren't just legs anymore?"
Liang Yin laughed softly, brushing water from her hands. "Yes! I feel it too! But… it's weird. It's not like anything we've felt before. It's… alive."
Ye Chen, watching them, closed her eyes for a moment. "Alive… yes. That's it. The tanks, the water, the climbing… all of it… it's flowing inside me now. My blood, my breath… everything."
Wu Chen nodded. "I think… I understand a little. We're not just moving water. We're moving ourselves. Our bodies, our energy… it's all part of the river now."
Tong Chen's voice cut through the quiet night, carrying across the hill. "Good. Feel it. Respect it. The river has awakened, but it obeys only discipline and awareness. You have passed the first threshold—the Foundation Establishment—but mastery, true cultivation, comes only when the rivers obey your mind as much as your body."
Xiao Ling approached, her presence calm and radiant under the moonlight. "Tomorrow, your training will change. The tanks will remain, but now you will focus not only on speed and strength, but on sensing. Every movement, every breath, every heartbeat is a guide. You are learning to feel your acupoints, though they remain closed. For now, the goal is awareness, control, and alignment. You are no longer ordinary children—you are vessels, awakened to the flow of your inner river."
Yeotu stretched his arms, a wide grin spreading across his face. "So… we're still humans… but… humans with rivers inside?"
Luo Tang laughed, shaking his head. "I like that. I'm a river!" He splashed a little water from his bucket, and Liang Yin laughed as she dodged it. "We're rivers in training, yes—but rivers with mischief too."
Yan Rui clapped her hands. "Play, practice, and awareness… we can do this. We're ready for the next step."
The elders exchanged quiet nods. They knew what the children could not yet see: that this breakthrough—the Foundation Establishment stage—was a rare threshold. From here, the true journey of cultivation would begin, one step at a time. The rivers inside would grow stronger, deeper, and eventually, powerful enough to awaken the first acupoints and guide each child to mastery beyond ordinary human limits.
The moon rose higher, casting silver light across the empty Dorgons, the stone peak, and the village beyond. The rivers inside each child pulsed, steady and alive, awaiting the next challenge, the next lesson, the next spark to awaken their inner power.