Morning sunlight spilled over the Whispering Blades mountain, washing the training grounds in a pale golden hue. The clang of steel echoed rhythmically, but amid all that motion, Lin Feng stood still — sipping tea as if the world were in no hurry to exist.
Wei Qing yawned beside him. "You do realize they're all staring at you again, right?"
Lin Feng didn't look up. "Let them. Curiosity is a cheap currency — and I've learned to accept payment in silence."
Wei Qing frowned, glancing around. Disciples whispered behind their sleeves, eyes darting toward the mysterious guest who'd walked through a storm of blades unscathed the day before. Even the sect's instructors seemed to be watching, murmuring among themselves.
From the upper terrace, the Sect Leader, Elder Jian Mu, descended with quiet steps, his expression unreadable.
"Traveler Lin Feng," he greeted. "Your composure is admirable. But I must confess — my disciples are… unsettled. They claim your movements were unnatural."
Lin Feng arched an eyebrow. "Unnatural is such an unkind word. I prefer 'efficient.'"
A faint smile touched Jian Mu's lips. "Then perhaps you would indulge us in a second test — one not of motion, but of mind."
"Mind?" Lin Feng echoed, setting down his teacup. "That sounds considerably less tiring."
The elder gestured toward a hall at the back of the courtyard. "Follow me."
---
The hall was simple — stone walls, incense drifting lazily, and at the center, a small formation etched into the floor, glowing faintly with spiritual light.
Wei Qing hesitated at the threshold. "What's this?"
"The Trial of Balance," the elder said. "A spiritual illusion — one meant to test the clarity of one's will. You enter, face what you must, and emerge only if your mind remains still."
Wei Qing paled. "So… a mental trap?"
Lin Feng chuckled softly. "A mirror, rather than a trap. One that shows what we often refuse to see."
Jian Mu inclined his head. "You speak as if you've walked through such mirrors before."
Lin Feng smiled faintly. "Once or twice. I broke most of them."
The elder's eyes narrowed with mild amusement. "Then this one may survive… or not. Enter when ready."
---
Lin Feng stepped into the circle. The symbols flared to life — a pulse of light rippled through the air, and in an instant, the hall vanished.
He stood in a vast field of ash.
The wind was cold, and from the distance came the faint hum of something old and familiar.
Before him lay shattered mountains, rivers of light frozen mid-flow — a scene that twisted between dream and memory.
He inhaled slowly. "Ah. So this is the shape of my mind today."
Voices whispered around him.
"You failed."
"You could not protect them."
"You stood above all, and yet you lost everything."
He sighed. "They do enjoy their dramatics."
The illusion darkened. Shapes began to form — silhouettes of kneeling figures, hundreds of them, bound by faint threads of light.
At their center stood a younger version of himself — regal, distant, eyes filled with the quiet weight of eternity. The Celestial Sovereign.
Lin Feng regarded his past self for a long time.
"You're still as dramatic as ever," he muttered.
The younger version turned, gaze sharp as blades. "You speak lightly of what you abandoned."
"Abandoned?" Lin Feng asked calmly. "No. I simply decided to live again — without the crown this time."
The illusion wavered. The voices around him grew softer, uncertain. The Celestial Sovereign stepped closer, expression unreadable. "You fear weakness."
Lin Feng smiled faintly. "Of course I do. Only fools don't. But fear isn't the enemy. Attachment to it is."
The field trembled. The younger self's form began to blur.
"You cannot outrun your past," the echo hissed.
"Who said I was running?" Lin Feng replied softly. "I'm just walking slower this time — to enjoy the view."
With that, the ash scattered like dust in the wind.
The scene collapsed into light, and Lin Feng found himself back in the hall — calm, breathing evenly, not a trace of exhaustion on his face.
---
Wei Qing was the first to rush forward. "You—! You were gone for hours! Are you okay?"
Lin Feng blinked. "Hours? Hm. Felt like a short nap."
Jian Mu studied him carefully. "What did you see inside?"
Lin Feng considered for a moment, then smiled. "An old man arguing with his reflection."
The elder frowned. "You jest."
"Partly," Lin Feng admitted, his tone thoughtful. "But your formation is fascinating. It doesn't just reveal fear — it measures acceptance. A good tool, though… your energy channels on the northern rune are slightly misaligned."
That earned him a few stunned looks.
The elder raised an eyebrow. "You can read formation structures?"
Lin Feng shrugged modestly. "A passing hobby. I once dabbled in stone carving, and things got… complicated."
Wei Qing muttered under his breath, "You mean you just dismantled a spiritual array with your eyes."
"Semantics," Lin Feng said with a straight face.
---
Later that evening, Jian Mu invited him back to the tea pavilion. The air was quiet; the scent of plum blossoms drifted from the courtyard.
"You're not ordinary," the elder said at last. "Few can walk through the Trial without so much as a tremor. You seem to carry… great weight lightly."
Lin Feng smiled faintly. "The secret to balance, Elder, is realizing that most things aren't worth the effort of tipping over."
The elder chuckled. "And yet, you intrigue me. Tell me—what path do you follow? Sword? Qi? Mind?"
Lin Feng looked out toward the mist-covered mountains, eyes half-lidded.
"None. Or perhaps all. I simply walk forward. Sometimes the heavens move with me; sometimes they get out of the way."
The elder studied him a long time, then laughed quietly. "You truly are a strange man."
"I prefer charmingly unconventional," Lin Feng corrected.
Wei Qing rolled his eyes. "You prefer attention."
Lin Feng smiled. "That too."
---
When night fell, Lin Feng stood alone beneath the plum trees. The moonlight brushed across his features — calm, unreadable, yet no longer distant.
He could sense something faint, an echo in the mountain's energy — a ripple that didn't belong to this place. Someone had been watching the trial. Someone familiar.
He sighed softly. "Still chasing ghosts, are we?"
The mountain breeze answered with silence.