After having dinner at Fugaku's house, Wen Lan dragged his exhausted body back home and fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.
Early the next morning, a shrill alarm rang out.
Wen Lan groggily opened his eyes—it was already 3:30 a.m.
He crawled out of bed, feeling soreness all over his body, as if every single cell, joint, and muscle were resisting him.
Staggering into the bathroom, he splashed cold water onto his face, trying to wake his numb nerves.
The eyes in the mirror were bloodshot, as though all vitality had been forcibly drained from him.
He took a deep breath.
He knew very well that training was still waiting for him today—
he couldn't stop.
Once he stopped, everything so far would be wasted.
Grabbing the sports jacket beside his bed, he quickly put it on.
The moment he stepped outside, the night wind carrying a chilly breath rushed toward him, clearing his mind slightly.
The streets were nearly empty, with only dim yellow streetlights standing quietly along the road.
He started running toward the agreed meeting point, with only one thought in mind:
Just hold on a little longer.
When he arrived, Might Duy and Might Guy were already drenched in sweat.
Might Guy looked surprised when he saw Wen Lan arrive on time.
Given yesterday's training volume, he should've been so sore today that he couldn't even move.
Might Duy, however, flashed his bright white teeth and gave Wen Lan a thumbs-up.
"Not bad, kid! You actually made it on time!"
"Thank you for yesterday, Senior Duy. Please continue training me today."
Wen Lan bowed slightly.
"Hahaha—! I haven't seen a kid this hardworking in a long time."
Might Duy laughed loudly, hands on his hips.
"Everyone believes ninjutsu determines a shinobi's strength, but in truth, the foundation is the body itself!
I've always believed that even without ninjutsu, I can still protect Konoha in my own way!"
Hearing this, Wen Lan fell silent for a moment.
Some people would rather be a hero for an instant than a coward for a lifetime.
Might Duy was exactly that kind of man.
"Alright! Training continues—five laps again today!"
"Yes, Senior Duy!"
The three began running once more.
This time, however, Wen Lan was already extremely tired after just half a lap.
But gradually, as the distance increased, he strangely began to feel lighter, as if his body was being reshaped little by little, with the night wind blowing away his exhaustion bit by bit.
Might Duy noticed immediately—and stopped.
"Alright. You rest now."
He looked at Wen Lan seriously.
Wen Lan stared at him in surprise.
"Senior Duy, I feel great right now. I can keep running!"
"No—you can't."
Might Guy spoke to Wen Lan for the first time.
"Your current state is only temporary excitement. Don't push yourself!
You're squeezing out your potential—one misstep and you'll damage your foundation!"
Might Guy's words made Duy nod in approval.
He then said to Wen Lan,
"You rest now. When the fatigue comes back, that's when you continue running!
We train the body to break limits, not to overdraft it!
Overtraining only leads to losses."
Wen Lan finally understood.
The human body was like a game's mana bar.
If your mana is empty but you're still casting skills— then you're burning HP.
Wen Lan sat cross-legged on the grass and closed his eyes, feeling the subtle changes within his body.
The night breeze gently brushed past him, cooling the heat inside and calming his thoughts.
Might Guy leaned closer to Duy and whispered, "Father… you seem to value him highly."
Might Duy looked at his son and replied, "The Uchiha are a clan of ninjutsu and dōjutsu, yet he's willing to train his body. In that way, he's somewhat like you.
But I know you chose taijutsu because of me—you want to prove that even taijutsu alone can produce a jōnin.
He's different.
He chose taijutsu because he wants to surpass his own bloodline.
The Sharingan is powerful, but without a strong body, every shinobi has weaknesses."
Might Guy slowly nodded.
He was finally beginning to truly acknowledge Wen Lan.
At first, he thought Wen Lan was just humoring his father— after all, even he knew how insane their training methods were.
But now he saw no pretense in Wen Lan's eyes— only pure obsession, a belief driven by the desire to break free of his own shackles.
That belief was the true force that pushed someone forward endlessly.
Just like how he trained to prove that a shinobi who only used taijutsu could still become strong—for his father.
Sitting cross-legged, fatigue soon washed over Wen Lan again.
He opened his eyes, exhaustion clearly visible.
Might Duy nodded.
"Kid, continue."
Wen Lan slowly stood up, took a deep breath, felt the faint soreness in his body, clenched his teeth, and resumed running with the other two.
Over the next three days, rumors spread throughout the village.
People said that an Uchiha clan member was running laps around the village every day with two lunatics.
It became casual gossip after meals.
Yet Wen Lan never stopped.
Sometimes Inuzuka Hana would run over to bring Wen Lan water, but Might Duy sternly stopped her, telling her this was training.
So angry was Hana that she had Akamaru's three brothers bark outside Might Duy's house all night.
Unfortunately for her, the thick-skinned father and son treated it as a lullaby and slept soundly.
Wen Lan's body gradually adapted to the intense training.
By the evening of the fifth day, his steps were no longer unsteady— he could even keep pace with the Might father and son.
Under the setting sun, the three figures stretched long at the village entrance.
Their clothes were soaked in sweat, yet there was an indescribable heroic aura about them.
Hana stood in the distance watching, both distressed and relieved.
Wen Lan turned back and smiled at her, then showed a determined look—as if telling her that all of this was worth it.
After returning to the Uchiha compound, Wen Lan didn't go home.
Still reeking of sweat, he went straight to the clan head's house—he'd made a habit of freeloading dinner there before going home.
He arrived just as dinner was being served.
Without hesitation, he greeted Fugaku, Mikoto, and Itachi, then plopped down at the table and skillfully grabbed a piece of grilled meat and stuffed it into his mouth.
Seeing Wen Lan drenched in sweat yet looking satisfied, Fugaku shook his head.
"The Third came by today."
Wen Lan paused mid-chew and looked up.
"What'd he give?"
"Two ninjutsu, a chakra-metal blade, and eighty million ryō as compensation for the clan grounds."
Wen Lan didn't care much about the first parts.
But when he heard the last number, he clicked his tongue and looked at Fugaku with disdain.
"That money was obviously meant for me—and you just moved your lips and turned it into clan property."
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