The morning sun found Lin Yun in the courtyard, already wrestling with calligraphy. It wasn't going well. Sunlight streamed through the old tree, dappling the stone tiles, but his focus was a mess. Servants bustled around, the air thick with the scent of steamed buns and spiced tea, but he barely noticed.
He stared at the character in front of him, a simple word, but his brushstrokes were uneven, hesitant. "Seriously? I used to ace art class. What's my problem?"
Xiao sat across from him, legs folded neatly, observing his struggles with a critical eye. A stack of her own calligraphy lay beside her, each character a study in elegant precision.
"That one's crooked," she pointed out, her voice calm. "You're rushing. Your wrist is too tight."
Lin Yun sighed, glancing at the offending character. "It's readable, isn't it? What's the big deal?"
Xiao shook her head, her expression firm. "Calligraphy reflects your state of mind. If you're rushed and tense, the character becomes unstable." She leaned forward, tapping the table lightly. "Relax. Slow down. Breathe."
He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up. "You're tougher than any teacher I ever had."
"I have high standards," she replied without a hint of apology. "Especially when you keep skipping the basics."
Despite himself, Lin Yun cracked a smile. He dipped his brush again, focusing on his breathing, and made another attempt. The line was steadier this time, less shaky. Still not perfect, but an improvement.
Xiao nodded approvingly. "Better. Keep that pace." As she read, she said aloud, "The wanderer seeks a path, though two worlds pull at his heart. Only by embracing both can he find his true way."
Lin Yun focused on the paper, but his thoughts drifted. "Two worlds… yeah, that's about right. I wonder if Wu Lan even remembers me. If Yang…" He pushed the thought away, focusing on the character in front of him. "I like listening to you read," he admitted quietly. "It helps me focus."
A faint blush colored Xiao's cheeks. "That's not a proper reason to practice calligraphy."
"It works for me," he said with a shrug.
She didn't argue, simply opened her book and began to read, her voice clear and steady, pausing slightly at unfamiliar words. Lin Yun followed along, matching the sounds to the characters he wrote.
Each word felt like a tenuous connection, a bridge between his memories of Earth and his new life as Lin Yun. "I need to learn this language, understand this world. It's the only way I'm going to survive."
To an outside observer, it was a simple scene: a brother and sister practicing calligraphy in the peaceful morning light. But for Lin Yun, it was something more profound. With every stroke of the brush, he was solidifying his new identity, building a foundation for his future.
Lin Yun clapped his hands together, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Alright, that's enough for today," he announced. "I think I deserve a break… and so do you."
Xiao raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"
Lin Yun shrugged, trying to appear casual. "I thought I'd try my hand at something… new. I've been experimenting in the kitchen."
He led her to a small table set up near the courtyard, where he had prepared a dish. On the table were several ""Meat Slices"". They resembled small loaves of bread that had been sliced in half horizontally, but the cuts weren't perfectly circular, giving them a slightly uneven, rustic appearance. The bread was filled with seasoned ground meat, chopped vegetables, and a simple sauce.
Xiao examined the dish with curiosity. "What is this supposed to be?"
Lin Yun feigned nonchalance. "Just something I came up with. I call it… 'Meaty bun'. Try it."
Xiao took a bite, her expression thoughtful. "It's… interesting. The flavors are… unusual."
Lin Yun watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. "Good unusual or bad unusual?"
Xiao chewed slowly, then smiled. "Good unusual. It's… comforting, somehow. What inspired you to make this?"
Lin Yun hesitated, searching for a plausible explanation. "I saw a traveling merchant making something similar in the village a while back. I just adapted it to what we have available."
Xiao nodded, accepting his explanation, but a hint of skepticism remained in her eyes. "I see... well, it's very good. You should make it again sometime."
As they ate, Lin Yun felt a mix of satisfaction and guilt. He enjoyed sharing something from his past life with Xiao, but he also knew he couldn't reveal too much about his origins. "This is nice, but I need to be careful. I can't just start introducing Earth food all the time. People will start asking questions."
He watched Xiao eat, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. "At least she likes it. And maybe, just maybe, I can share a little piece of my old life with her, without giving away too much."
That night, the courtyard was silent.
The household had settled into sleep, the only sounds the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. Lin Yun sat alone in his room, a single candle casting long shadows across the walls. He practiced calligraphy, his fingers cramping, his hands stained with ink. He reread passages until his eyes ached.
He almost whispered, "Xiao, can you help me?" then stopped himself, determined to master this alone.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the strange sensation he felt when the cube-like energy manifested to protect him from bandits. He tries to replicate the feeling, to bring that power to the surface, but only a faint warmth stirs within him. He can't seem to grasp it, to solidify it into a tangible form. "It's like trying to catch smoke. How did I even do it in the first place?" Frustrated, he sighs and returns to his calligraphy practice, knowing he needs to understand this power better.
He reflected on Wu Lan and the shop, a sharp pang of longing twisting in his gut. "Do they even know what happened to me? Do they think I'm dead?" He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand. "I can't afford to dwell on the past. I have to focus on the present, on surviving."
Deep inside, a faint warmth flickered, a subtle energy that felt both familiar and alien. It was like an ember hidden beneath a layer of ash, waiting to be stoked into flame.
He didn't tell anyone about it. Not yet.
The next day, training took place beyond the village walls, past the rice fields where dragonflies skimmed the water's surface like tiny blue gems.
Here, away from prying eyes, Lin Yun could focus on honing his skills, blending the knowledge of his past life with the strange new reality of qi.
Guard Chen stood nearby, arms crossed, his presence as solid and unyielding as the mountains rising in the distance. Master Baby leaned against a gnarled old tree, casually tossing pebbles at its trunk – each one striking with a sharp "tap" that echoed through the quiet field.
"Widen your stance," Chen instructed, his voice gruff but patient. "Your weight needs to be balanced, like a rock in a stream young master."
Lin Yun adjusted his footing, grounding himself, feeling the cool earth beneath his bare feet. The soil was soft and damp from morning dew, and he could sense a faint flow of energy moving through it.
"Lower," Chen continued, his gaze never leaving Lin Yun's form.
Lin Yun bent his knees, settling into a deeper stance until he felt the burn in his thighs. He began to move through the basic forms – punch, step, turn, block – each movement precise and controlled. His style was unorthodox, a strange mix of boxing stances he'd practiced on Earth and the fluid, circular motions of the Lin family's martial arts.
Master Baby flicked another pebble at the tree, the sound sharp against the morning quiet. "Don't hesitate," he drawled, his voice lazy but his eyes sharp. "Move before your body asks permission. Think less, feel more."
Lin Yun lunged forward, striking a thick oak tree with a palm strike. The bark shuddered, a faint tremor running through the wood as his hand made contact. As Lin Yun fell into the sequence, Master Baby called out, "Now, show me the Stone Breaking Fist!"
Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. His muscles burned with effort, but the movements felt strangely natural – as if his body remembered something his mind had forgotten. As he threw the final strike of the form, he briefly visualized a concrete wall from his old gym, adding a layer of familiarity to the technique that made his hit land harder.
Some days, they sparred until he collapsed, exhausted and bruised, into the soft dirt. He'd return home battered and sore, only to be met with Xiao's sharp scolding and her quiet, efficient care as she cleaned his wounds with warm water and healing herbs, always slipping extra steamed buns onto his plate.
Two months passed in this way, a steady cycle of training, exhaustion, and slow, visible progress.
Subtle changes began to show.
A branch would tremble when he struck a tree. Hairline cracks appeared in the flat stones where he practiced his stances. The world seemed to respond to his movements – not with grand displays of power, but in small, unmistakable ways.
One morning, a light breeze followed his punch, swirling around his fist and scattering dry leaves in its wake.
Chen raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing. After the session ended, he turned to Master Baby and spoke quietly. "His progress is… unexpected. Discipline will be key if he's to master this."
Master Baby simply smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Discipline is a cage, Chen. He needs room to breathe."
By then, Lin Yun could read simple signs posted in the village square, write the name "Lin Yun" with a steady hand, react instinctively when Chen threw sudden strikes during drills, and even sense the faint presence of qi in the air around him. After one particularly long session, he examined his hands – calluses had formed across his knuckles and fingertips, and his muscles were more defined than before. "Is this from the training alone? Or is my past life somehow making my body stronger than it should be?"
One afternoon, laughter shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the courtyard.
Heavy footsteps approached, and Lin Yun felt a familiar tension in his gut. Xiao stiffened beside him, her hand instinctively reaching for the sword at her hip.
"Lin Jian," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Lin Jian strode into the courtyard, his expression radiating arrogance and contempt. A tall, silent figure shadowed him, his eyes sharp and watchful.
"Lin Yun," Lin Jian drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Still hiding at home, I see?" Lin Jian sneers, "Still clinging to those Earth-style moves, Yun? You'll never be a true qi warrior with those parlor tricks."
Lin Yun set down his brush, his jaw tightening.
Xiao stepped forward, her eyes flashing with anger. "Leave him alone, Lin Jian." As Lin Jian raises his hand towards Xiao, she whispers, "Brother, no!" before Lin Yun intervenes.
Lin Jian laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound. "Always so protective, little sister. It's touching."
He raised his hand, as if to strike Xiao.
Lin Yun moved without thinking. During the takedown, Lin Yun instinctively uses a jujitsu move he saw on TV, further surprising Lin Jian and the silent companion.
He grabbed Lin Jian's wrist, stopping him cold. A wave of energy surged through him, a strange and unfamiliar power that made the air crackle.
"Don't you f—n dare! touch her," Lin Yun said, his voice low and dangerous.
Lin Jian struggled, his eyes widening in surprise.
In a blink of and eye Lin Yun didn't hesitate. He used a swift, fluid motion, a technique he had learned from countless hours of watching MMA fights, to sweep Lin Jian's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
The courtyard fell silent, the only sound Lin Jian's gasping breaths.
High above the training room, Master Baby reclined on the roof, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He watches Lin Yun and Lin Jian's confrontation with amusement, occasionally chuckling to himself.
As Lin Jian storms off, Master Baby shakes his head, muttering, "That boy's got a temper hotter than a dragon's breath. Not good for the skin, not good at all." He then glances at Lin Yun with a knowing smile, as if anticipating his potential.
Silence descended on the courtyard once more.
Master Baby approached, nodding slowly. "Better control," he commented, his eyes twinkling.
Chen spoke quietly, his gaze fixed on Lin Yun. "The young master has changed."
Lin Yun looked down at his ink-stained hands, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. Lin Yun touches his forehead, a puzzled expression on his face, as if sensing a lingering presence. He glances up at the roof, feeling a strange sensation of being watched. "What was that? Where did that power come from? And why does Master Baby always look like he knows something I don't?"
He had a long road ahead, a difficult path to navigate. But for the first time since waking up in this world, he felt a flicker of confidence, a sense that he might actually be able to make it.
As the afternoon light faded, Lin Yun remained in the courtyard, seeking solace in the familiar rhythm of his breathing.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the flow of qi within his body, drawing in the faint energy from the air, exhaling the tension and doubt that still lingered. He didn't rush, didn't force it, simply allowed the energy to flow, following the ancient methods he had learned. He focuses and can now see the golden mark on his forehead—a series of intricate, swirling patterns that seem to shift and glow faintly. As his senses sharpen, Lin Yun hears a faint echo of traffic from his past life, momentarily disorienting him. "What the hell was that? It's like… a memory, but not mine."
The golden mark on his chest no longer burned, but pulsed with a gentle warmth, a quiet heartbeat that resonated deep within his soul. Lin Yun didn't know what it meant, what its purpose was, but he knew one thing for certain: it was extraordinary.
From the doorway, Mei Lian watched him silently, her expression a mixture of pride and concern. She didn't interrupt his meditation, sensing that he needed this time to himself. For the first time in years, she felt that her son was standing on the threshold of something vast and unknown. Mei Lian frowns slightly, sensing a "foreign energy" around Lin Yun that she can't quite place.
As dusk settled over the courtyard, Lin Yun finally opened his eyes.
The world seemed sharper, more vibrant.
He could hear the distant sounds of the village with greater clarity, the rustling of leaves, the murmur of voices, the barking of dogs. His body felt lighter, more agile, as if he had shed a layer of dead weight.
He rose slowly, stretching his limbs, feeling the energy coursing through his veins.
"This is only the beginning," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
That night, trouble came calling.
The wooden gate creaked open, the sound jarring in the stillness of the night. Three figures strode into the courtyard, their silhouettes elongated by the flickering lantern light. The three figures wore robes emblazoned with a stylized, snarling golden dragon, its eyes seeming to follow Lin Yun's movements. Their clothes bore the emblem of the Lin main branch.
At their head stood Lin Jian, his face twisted with a mixture of anger and resentment.
His gaze locked onto Lin Yun, cold and hard. "So it's true," he sneered. "You actually managed to awaken."
Lin Yun met his gaze unflinchingly. He didn't step back, didn't flinch. "I did," he replied, his voice steady.
Lin Jian's expression darkened. "Then you should remember your place."
He unleashed a wave of spiritual pressure, a subtle but unmistakable attempt at intimidation. It pressed against Lin Yun's chest, a heavy weight that threatened to suffocate him.
But then, something shifted.
The golden mark on his chest flared to life, a surge of energy that pushed back against Lin Jian's pressure, negating its effect.
Lin Jian stiffened, his face contorting in a mask of fury. "You don't belong here, Yun," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "You're a cripple, a disgrace to the Lin family. And whatever that thing is inside you… the elders will want answers." Lin Jian sneers, "The clan trial will test your strength, yes, but more importantly, it will judge your worth. Some… rumors… suggest your dantian is still broken, and that your father's position as patriarch is… vulnerable. The elders will want to ensure the Lin bloodline remains strong."
Lin Yun met his cousin's hateful gaze without flinching. "Bring it on. I've dealt with worse." He kept his voice steady, projecting an air of confidence he didn't entirely feel. "Then let them come."
The night air crackled with tension, the silence broken only by the distant chirping of crickets.
Lin Jian stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed, as if trying to see into his very soul. Then, he turned away, his shoulders rigid with anger. "Enjoy this while you can, Yun," he snarled. "The clan trial is approaching. And you're going to fail." Lin Jian sneers, "The elders are questioning whether your 'awakening' is genuine, or just some trick you learned from… elsewhere."
With that, he turned and stalked out of the courtyard, his two companions following close behind. The wooden gate creaked shut behind them, leaving Lin Yun alone beneath the cold, indifferent gaze of the stars.
He stood there for a long time, his mind racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. "The clan trial… what am I even supposed to do? I can barely control my qi, and I don't even know what that thing inside me is." He glanced down at his chest, feeling the faint thrum of energy emanating from the golden mark. "Is that what Lin Jian was talking about? Is that why the elders are so interested in me?"
A shiver ran down his spine, a sense of unease settling deep in his bones. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that his life had just crossed an invisible line. There was no going back to the quiet, uneventful existence he had known before.
The village was no longer enough.
And the path ahead… the path ahead was going to be fraught with danger, intrigue, and challenges he couldn't even begin to imagine.
But for the first time since waking up in this strange new world, he felt a surge of something akin to… excitement. Fear, yes, but also a thrill, a sense of anticipation.
"Okay, bring it on. I may not know what I'm doing, but I'm not going down without a fight. Time to figure out what this world is all about. And maybe, just maybe, find a way to honor Yang's memory."
Lin Yun was about to head to bed when he noticed movement outside his room. His father, Lord Lin Wei, was standing quietly in the doorway, his hands folded behind his back, his expression a mix of sternness and concern. The soft lamplight cast long shadows, highlighting the sharp angles of his face.
"You've returned later than expected," Lord Lin Wei said calmly, though there was an unmistakable edge of worry in his voice. "Master Baby told me you were ambushed in the Misty Swamp before heading back to the village. Is that true?"
Lin Yun hesitated, then forced a casual smile. "Ah… yes, Father. There were… a few surprises. I, uh… ate one of those glowing plants there," he said, shrugging. He didn't know the plant's real name, but the lie sounded believable.
The moment the words left his mouth, Lord Lin Wei's eyes widened, a sharp flash of shock crossing his face. "You… ate a glowing plant?" His voice was low, dangerous, like the sudden snap of a whip. He took a step closer, hands tightening behind his back. "Do you have any idea what you just did, Yun? Those plants are rare and highly unstable. They can enhance qi… or destroy it completely if taken unprepared."
Lin Yun's smile faltered slightly, but he kept his tone light. "I… didn't know the name. I just… ate it. It didn't hurt me, though."
Lord Lin Wei's gaze bore into him, sharp as a blade. "You always have a way of throwing caution to the wind. That you survived is… remarkable. But this is no small matter. You must never be careless with such things again."
Lin Yun lowered his gaze, trying to appear modest. "It was Master Baby's guidance that helped. He taught me a lot about controlling my qi in unfamiliar environments."
"Good," his father said, his expression softening slightly. Then, with a subtle gesture, he handed Lin Yun a small pill and a smooth, dark stone. "Take this pill. It will advance your cultivation by two levels. The stone will help you refine and stabilize your qi while you train in your room."
Lin Yun's eyes widened as he accepted them, holding each carefully. "Thank you, Father. I'll use them carefully."
His father's gaze hardened once more, concern and authority mingling. "There's more at play than just cultivation. Some members of the family… they may be conspiring against me. I want you always alert, always cautious. Trust no one blindly—even those who claim loyalty."
Lin Yun nodded, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the room. "I understand. I'll be careful."
Lord Lin Wei's eyes flicked toward the hallway, then back to his son. "Your adventure in the Misty Swamp wasn't just a test of your strength. It was a glimpse of the challenges awaiting you. Trust Master Baby's judgment—but never forget your own instincts. The path ahead will be dangerous, and sometimes the threats will come from the ones closest to us."
Lin Yun smiled faintly, placing the pill and stone carefully on his bedside table. "I'll remember, Father. Thank you."
His father gave a small nod, his expression both proud and wary. "Rest well tonight. Tomorrow, your training resumes. And Yun…"
"Yes, Father?"
"Keep your eyes open. The family, the clan, and even your own qi—everything is connected. Don't be caught off guard."
Lin Yun watched his father's silhouette retreat into the corridor. Once alone, he leaned against the doorframe, taking a deep breath. The golden mark on his forehead pulsed faintly, as if sensing the energy and warnings from the conversation. A soft smile touched his lips. He had a long road ahead—but he felt ready, for the first time, to face it.