The next morning found Lin Feng walking along a winding mountain road, the young runaway—whose name turned out to be Wei Qing—trailing behind him like an obedient shadow.
"Are you sure this path leads to people?" Wei Qing asked, squinting up at the rugged slope.
Lin Feng nodded absently, adjusting his sleeves. "People, yes. Friendly people… perhaps not. But you'll learn that in this world, even enemies can offer better company than silence."
Wei Qing frowned, not quite sure how to respond to that. "You talk like a teacher."
"I prefer 'enlightened wanderer,'" Lin Feng replied with a grin. "It sounds more mysterious. And mysterious people rarely get questioned."
The road curved, revealing a mist-covered ridge ahead. Faint structures jutted out from the cliffs—stone pavilions, weather-worn banners, and the faint sound of steel striking steel.
Wei Qing's eyes widened. "That's—"
"The Whispering Blades Sect," Lin Feng finished, his tone soft but amused. "A small mountain sect known for subtle sword arts and loud egos."
Wei Qing blinked. "Loud egos?"
"Mm." Lin Feng nodded sagely. "They practice silence in technique, but never in personality."
He started forward before Wei Qing could ask more. The mountain air grew thinner, the sound of blades clearer. As they approached the sect's gate, two disciples stood guard, their robes marked with the insignia of a crescent blade.
One of them, tall and thin with a perpetual smirk, eyed Lin Feng lazily. "Visitors? This path isn't for travelers. State your purpose."
Lin Feng clasped his hands politely. "We seek rest, food, and perhaps a few words of wisdom from those who whisper to their swords."
The guard frowned, clearly not expecting the poetic phrasing. His companion, a stockier youth, snorted. "No one enters without invitation."
Lin Feng tilted his head. "Ah, but invitations are for guests. What about wanderers who bring stories—and coin?"
At the mention of coin, the thin disciple hesitated. Wei Qing watched in confusion as Lin Feng smiled, producing a single silver ingot and flicking it into the air. The disciple caught it automatically, eyes darting between the silver and the stranger's calm face.
Lin Feng's voice softened. "Hospitality, after all, reflects the sharpness of a sect's character."
It wasn't a threat. It wasn't even a request. It was simply… a statement. One that carried enough composure to make refusal feel awkward.
Moments later, they were escorted through the gate.
---
The Whispering Blades Sect was modest in size but impressive in aura. The training grounds stretched along the cliffs, where dozens of disciples practiced in unison—swords cutting through the morning mist with eerie precision.
Wei Qing stared in awe. Lin Feng, however, looked almost bored.
"Notice how they breathe?" he murmured to Wei Qing.
"They… breathe?"
Lin Feng nodded, eyes following the synchronized sword forms. "Too uniform. Every strike is identical, every motion rehearsed. Effective, yes—but predictable. True mastery is born from chaos, not repetition."
Wei Qing tilted his head, frowning. "That sounds confusing."
"Good," Lin Feng said lightly. "Confusion is where understanding begins."
They were soon led to a small courtyard where a man in simple gray robes sat pouring tea. His eyes were sharp, his hair silver-streaked, and his presence carried the calm weight of someone used to command.
"The Sect Leader," their escort whispered before retreating.
Lin Feng bowed politely. "Lin Feng, traveler. My companion and I seek a night's shelter and a few honest words. The road has been… educational."
The leader gestured for them to sit. "Whispering Blades welcomes all who walk with sincerity." He smiled faintly. "But sincerity is rare these days. What brings you to my mountain?"
Lin Feng returned the smile. "Curiosity. And perhaps the faint hope that wisdom might be hiding somewhere beneath the clatter of steel."
A quiet laugh escaped the elder. "You speak boldly for a traveler."
"Boldness is easier when one has nothing to lose," Lin Feng said, sipping tea as if they were old friends.
The leader studied him a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "You speak like a man who has seen too much. Very well. You may rest here tonight. But in our sect, every guest must prove their worth."
Wei Qing froze. "Prove—? How?"
The elder's gaze softened, amused. "A simple test. If you can walk through our training grounds without being struck by a blade, you may stay."
Lin Feng set down his cup, smiling faintly. "Ah. Hospitality with conditions. How refreshing."
---
They were led to a wide, circular courtyard filled with disciples practicing blade techniques. The elder raised a hand, and all movement ceased.
"This traveler will walk through the grounds," the leader announced. "Treat him as wind—test him, but do not aim to kill."
Lin Feng smiled. "I appreciate the clarification."
Wei Qing whispered, "You're really going to do this?"
Lin Feng stretched his shoulders lazily. "I could refuse. But that would be boring."
As he stepped forward, the first disciple moved. A blur of silver flashed toward him—swift, controlled, precise. Lin Feng tilted his head slightly, and the blade passed harmlessly through the sleeve of his robe.
He sighed softly. "Predictable."
Another came from behind. Lin Feng shifted his weight just enough that the strike missed by a hair's breadth. His movements weren't fast—they were simply right. As if the world itself adjusted to keep him untouched.
Gasps rippled through the onlookers.
A third disciple lunged, determined to land at least a scratch. Lin Feng smiled, sidestepped, and with a flick of his sleeve, sent a loose petal drifting into the disciple's face. The man stumbled, halted mid-swing, blinking in confusion.
Lin Feng looked at the Sect Leader. "I believe I've met your expectations?"
The courtyard fell silent. Then, slowly, the elder began to clap.
"Remarkable control," he said. "You move as though you already know the outcome."
Lin Feng smiled modestly. "Perhaps I just prefer walking paths where I've already stepped before."
The Sect Leader chuckled. "Clever. Very well—stay as long as you wish."
Wei Qing exhaled in relief. Lin Feng, however, merely adjusted his sleeves and smiled faintly. "Ah, I was hoping for a little more chaos. But tranquility has its charm."
---
That evening, as lanterns flickered across the mountain, Lin Feng stood overlooking the valley. The Whispering Blades Sect buzzed with whispers—rumors of the mysterious traveler who dodged every strike without lifting a weapon.
Wei Qing joined him quietly. "You made it look easy."
Lin Feng smirked. "It was easy. The challenge was pretending it wasn't."
Wei Qing laughed. "You're strange."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Lin Feng said. He looked toward the distant mist where faint threads of movement shimmered in the night. His smile softened. "Tomorrow, the real test begins."
---