Blossoming Path

Sweat dripped down my temple as I lunged forward, my palm alight with the faint red glow of the Heavenly Flame Mantra. The heat wasn’t intense enough to burn, but it was enough to make the air shimmer faintly around my hand. I poured everything I had into the strike, aiming squarely for Feng Wu’s chest.

And just like the first time we sparred, he sidestepped effortlessly.

Before I could recover, he pivoted and delivered a light tap to my back with his palm. A reminder that he could have ended the match there if he wanted to. I stumbled forward, catching myself before hitting the ground, and spun around to face him again. My frustration bubbled to the surface.

"You're kidding me," I muttered, breathing hard. "This is just like last time. Are you even trying?"

Feng Wu smiled, his posture relaxed as if this was all just a warm-up for him. "Oh, I’m trying, Kai. It’s impressive you’re even standing, let alone sparring, Kai. Not many people could take the kind of beating you did from Wei Long and be back to training days later. It’s alright to be a step behind.”

His words stung, not because they were untrue, but because they were entirely accurate. I could feel it in every exchange. But it wasn’t just that.

During our first spar, if it could really be called that—the gap between us had been insurmountable; his speed and finesse had made my every move feel clumsy and telegraphed. But now, even though my power, speed, and technique had undeniably improved, something else had changed.

Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I lunged again, this time feinting left before spinning into a sweeping strike with my glowing palm. Feng Wu leaned back effortlessly, evading the arc of my attack with a movement so smooth it was almost insulting. As I pressed forward, trying to follow up, I noticed it.

He was moving before I attacked.

"That’s not possible," I muttered under my breath. He wasn't clairvoyant.

I briefly wondered if it was the growing pains of learning a new martial art style. Initiating the offense, channeling my qi into my palms—it was difficult. Especially when Elder Ming forbade me from using my main techniques until I digested the Heavenly Flame Mantra. Even with my added options for offense, using a new martial art would have its drawbacks.

But to test this, I threw another punch, this time aiming low. He stepped aside again, his body already positioned to counter with a swift kick that stopped just short of my knee.

Frustration boiled over as I dropped to the ground, my back hitting the packed dirt with a soft thud. My chest heaved as I stared up at the cloudy sky, trying to swallow my irritation. "Alright, I give. How? How are you doing this? You weren’t this strong last time we fought, but somehow, you’ve gotten even stronger, faster than I did. Did you take a pill? Found enlightenment? Achieved mind-body unification?"

Feng Wu crouched beside me, his expression thoughtful. "That would be nice, but no. I’ve just been working on something new,"

"Something new?"

He nodded. "You’re not the only one who’s been training hard, Kai. While you’ve been here in Gentle Wind Village, I’ve taken a break from missions to hone my Memory Palace."

I sat up, intrigued despite my irritation. "Memory Palace? What does that have to do with dodging my attacks like you’re reading my mind?"

"It’s not mind-reading," he corrected, crossing his arms. "But I’ve adapted the Memory Palace into something… more practical for combat. I completed a quest recently, which granted me a skill: Combat Anticipation Array."

"Combat… Anticipation Array?" I repeated, the name rolling awkwardly off my tongue.

He nodded again, his expression turning serious. "The skill uses the principles of the Memory Palace. By visualizing combat scenarios and storing them in my mind, I’ve built a library of movements and counterattacks. During a fight, my mind reflexively draws on that library to predict the most likely attack based on my opponent’s stance, rhythm, and intent. It’s not clairvoyance," he added quickly, seeing my skeptical look. "It’s just experience, applied faster than I could consciously process."

I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around the implications. "So, you’re saying it’s like… simulating the fight in your head while it’s happening?"

"Exactly," Feng Wu said, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "It’s not perfect, of course. It’s limited by my own knowledge and how much I’ve trained. But it’s sped up my reaction time immensely. I've gotten ahead of Lan Sheng in our spars, and he can't figure it out. It’s been frustrating him to no end."

The way he described it reminded me of my Refinement Simulation Technique, which allowed me to visualize alchemical processes in real-time and adjust on the fly. The concept was different, but the core idea was the same: using mental visualization as a tool to anticipate and adapt.

And before this, I already took his advice, learning how to visualize opponents and using them to practice within the confines of my mind. But what he was describing was combining those two together.

"The Memory Palace…" I murmured, more to myself than to him. "It’s not just a storage method. It’s the foundation for so much more."

Feng Wu raised an eyebrow. "Figured that out, did you? The Memory Palace isn’t the end goal. It’s what you can do with it that matters. For me, it’s Combat Anticipation. For you… well, who knows? But I wouldn’t be surprised if there are dozens of techniques that can stem from it."

My mind raced with possibilities. If Feng Wu could develop something like Combat Anticipation Array from the Memory Palace, what else could I create? Could I adapt the Refinement Simulation Technique into something that applied to combat? Or even further refine my alchemical processes with new insights?

The familiar hum of the Heavenly Interface echoed faintly in my mind, and a notification blinked in the corner of my vision.

Quest: Beyond the Memory Palace

- Successfully evade or counter 10 different attacks by predicting their trajectories using a simulated visual map in real time. (0/10)

- Land 5 precise hits on a moving opponent using openings simulated beforehand. (0/5)

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

- Use the Refinement Simulation technique on an alchemical reaction mid-combat to create an advantage. (0/1)

A grin spread across my face as I stood, brushing the dirt off my robes. "Looks like I’ve got my next challenge."

Feng Wu’s smirk mirrored my own. "Good. Because if you don’t close this gap soon, Han Wei and Li Na will leave you in the dust. They're training just as hard as you are."

We made our way back to the shop, the chilly air cooling the sweat on my skin as we passed through the snow-laden clearing. My eyes drifted toward the distant hill where Tianyi and Windy were sparring—or at least, something resembling sparring. Windy coiled and darted like a striking whip, his white scales gleaming against the snowy backdrop, while Tianyi flitted with an almost playful air, her movements fluid and precise. They were locked in a strange, mesmerizing dance, as if testing each other’s limits without real intent to harm.

I shook my head, a smirk tugging at my lips. Even my spirit beasts were training harder than I was. Perhaps I'd enlist their help to complete this quest.

Inside the shop, the warmth of the hearth greeted us, its gentle crackle a welcome contrast to the biting cold outside. I busied myself with the teapot, setting it on the counter as Feng Wu shrugged off his outer cloak and leaned casually against the wall.

Placing the finished leaves into the teapot, I poured the boiling water over them and brought the tea to the table. Feng Wu took a cup without hesitation, sipping thoughtfully as he sank into the chair across from me.

"So," I said, leaning back in my seat, "what’s the word from the Verdant Lotus Sect?"

Feng Wu set his cup down, his expression shifting to something more serious. "They’ve agreed to the partnership. The sect will be sending resources and personnel to reinforce the village and set up accommodations for cultivators. It’s a big step forward."

I smirked, already picturing the reactions when the sect members arrived. "They’re going to be in for a surprise. Li Wei’s been working on the expansion since yesterday. He’s already laid out the foundation for it."

Feng Wu raised an eyebrow. "Li Wei? You mean the boy who made your greenhouse?”

"The master carpenter," I corrected, my tone exaggerated and mock-haughty. "Kid’s a genius. Second only to myself, of course."

Feng Wu chuckled. "Second only to you? I didn’t realize carpentry was part of your skillset."

I waved him off. "That’s not the point. The point is, this village is full of talent. Take Wang Jun, for example. He’s probably the second-best blacksmith our age in the province!"

"Second-best? Out of how many?" Feng Wu asked, his voice laced with amusement. "Let me guess: you know exactly two blacksmiths, and the other is better."

“Don’t nitpick the details!” I shot back, though I couldn’t stop the grin creeping across my face. I wonder how Tao Ren was doing. "The Verdant Lotus Sect is lucky to invest in Gentle Wind Village. We’ve got talent, ambition, and drive. They won’t regret it."

Feng Wu lifted his cup in a mock toast. "Here’s hoping you’re right. But regardless, we won't let Gentle Wind bear all the costs associated with expansion. The Azure Silk Trading Company has many connections. And I'll be helping to escort them here."

As he drained the last of his tea, setting the cup down with a satisfied sigh. He leaned back in his chair, his relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the thoughts swirling in my mind.

As I watched him, something unspoken pressed against the back of my throat. It was easy to joke with Feng Wu, to trade jabs and talk about training like it was just another part of life. But the truth was, I owed him more than I could ever repay.

“I just realized,” I said, breaking the companionable silence. “I haven’t properly thanked you, one to one.”

Feng Wu raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “For what?”

I shifted in my seat, glancing at the teapot as if it could help me organize my thoughts. “For everything,” I said at last. “Coming here when the village was in danger. Standing by my side when Wei Long attacked. Staying here, training with me, teaching me. I wouldn’t have made it through any of this without you. Or if you hadn't recruited me for the Gauntlet.”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was an odd puzzle he hadn’t quite solved yet. “You don’t owe me anything, Kai.”

“I do,” I insisted, my voice firm. “You’ve done so much for me, for this village. It’s a debt I’ll probably never be able to pay back in my lifetime.”

Feng Wu stood slowly, slinging his cloak over one shoulder. His expression softened, a rare flicker of seriousness crossing his usually laid-back face. “Kai, if you spend your life trying to repay everyone who’s ever helped you, you’ll never have time to walk your own path.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words.

“It’s not about paying it back,” he continued, pulling the cloak around his shoulders. “It’s about paying it forward. Take what you’ve gained and use it to help someone else. Build something that lasts. That’s how you honor the people who’ve stood by you.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air, settling over me like the gentle warmth of the shop’s hearth. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, I just nodded.

“Pay it forward,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

I chuckled despite myself, standing to follow him to the door. The cold air nipped at my skin as he stepped out into the snow-covered clearing, his figure sharp against the white landscape. He glanced back, his face softening into something almost contemplative.

“You’ve got good people here, Kai. Don’t forget to lean on them when you need to. And don’t let me hear you’re slacking off.”

“I won’t,” I said, the corner of my mouth tugging upward. “And Feng Wu?”

“Yes?”

“Have a safe trip.”

He smiled and raised a hand in farewell, his steps crunching through the snow as he walked away. I watched him disappear into the horizon, his figure fading into the quiet expanse of white.

The cold bit into my skin, and for a moment, I stood there, watching the snow fall softly around me.

The sunlight filtered through the clouds as I stepped into the garden, its warmth softening the lingering chill of the morning. The greenhouse stood proudly before me, its structure finally restored to its former glory. Inside, the plants were thriving once more, their vibrant energy filling the air with a subtle hum of life.

And just near the edge of the garden, a tiny golden shoot poked through the soil—a bamboo sprout, its delicate form almost imperceptible but unmistakably there.

I smiled, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Progress. Small, but real.

Off in the distance, Tianyi and Windy’s sparring continued, their figures darting and weaving in the snow-covered hills. Everyone was growing stronger. Recovering. Moving forward.

“Kai?” Lan-Yin’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling my attention back to the house. She stood in the doorway, her expression faintly troubled. “I… I think something’s wrong.”

"What is it? What’s wrong?"

She waved me off, brushing a hand through her hair. "It’s nothing serious. I’ve just been feeling… nauseous. A little dizzy. It’s probably nothing. But it's getting hard to ignore."

Still, I ushered her inside, sitting her down at the table and brewing a fresh pot of tea. As she listed her symptoms, I couldn’t help but fall into diagnostic mode, mentally running through the possibilities.

Dizziness. Fatigue. Nausea.

"Alright," I said, pulling a chair closer to her. "Let’s break this down. When did it start?"

She furrowed her brow, resting her chin on her hand. "A few days ago, maybe? I didn’t think much of it at first. Just figured I was tired."

"And the nausea?" I pressed, leaning forward slightly. "Does it come and go, or is it constant?"

"It’s not constant," she replied. "Mostly in the mornings. Sometimes it fades by midday, but other times it sticks around. It’s annoying, but not unbearable."

Morning nausea. I filed that away. "Any other symptoms? Dizziness, you said. What about appetite? Any changes?"

Lan-Yin shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. "I’ve been hungrier than usual, but I thought it was just from training harder. Wang Jun keeps saying I need to eat more anyway, so I didn’t think it was strange."

I nodded, suppressing a small smile at the mention of Wang Jun. "What about fatigue? Do you feel more tired than usual?"

She tilted her head, considering. "I guess? But again, I thought that was just training. Elder Ming has been working me harder lately, and I’ve been pushing myself to catch up."

Fatigue. Hunger. Dizziness. Nausea. My mind sifted through possibilities, but something about her symptoms pulled at a distant memory. When was it? It was years ago, when Xiao Bao's mom had...

"Lan-Yin," I began cautiously, setting the pot down with deliberate care. "Have you… noticed any other changes lately? Anything different in the past few months?"

She looked at me, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of the question. "What kind of changes?" she asked, her tone tinged with suspicion.

I rubbed the back of my neck, choosing my words carefully. "You mentioned feeling hungrier and more tired, but… have you had any other symptoms? Anything unusual?"

Lan-Yin’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharpening. "Kai, if you have something to say, just say it."

I hesitated, my thoughts spinning. Could I really say it out loud? What if I was wrong? But the more I considered her symptoms, the clearer the answer became.

My voice dropped to a murmur, almost as if I were speaking to myself. "This reminds me of Xiao Bao’s mom… when she was—" I stopped myself short, glancing at her uncertainly.

Her eyes widened, her expression shifting rapidly from confusion to realization, then disbelief. "Kai Liu," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "What. Are. You. Suggesting?"

I swallowed hard, my hands raised defensively. "I—I’m not saying anything for sure, it’s just… your symptoms—they’re common for… pregnancy."

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she just stared at me, utterly speechless. Then, her voice rose sharply. "You think I’m what?!"

The teapot rattled slightly on the table as I winced. "It’s just a theory!" I said quickly, trying to backpedal. "I mean, I could be wrong, but—"

I opened my mouth to respond but immediately shut it, realizing there was no winning this. Meanwhile, she buried her face in her hands, letting out a muffled sound of disbelief.

The silence that followed was thick and awkward. I sat frozen, my mind running through the consequences of this revelation. And one thought loomed above the rest.

How am I going to tell Wang Jun?