"Outer disciples, line up."
The voice cut cleanly through the training ground.
Yan Xuan stepped into place with the others, posture relaxed, gaze neutral. The instructor—a lean man with sharp eyes and a scar running along his jaw—walked slowly in front of the line, hands clasped behind his back.
"My name is Instructor Han," he said. "I oversee outer disciple assessment."
A murmur ran through the group.
Instructor Han stopped in front of a broad-shouldered disciple and tapped his chest lightly with two fingers.
"You," he said. "What realm?"
The disciple straightened proudly. "Late-stage Body Tempering, Instructor."
Han nodded. "And how long did it take you to get there?"
"Three months."
"Fast," Han said calmly. Then he turned his head slightly. "How many injuries?"
The disciple hesitated. "Two… minor."
Han moved on without comment.
He stopped in front of Yan Xuan.
"And you?" Han asked.
Yan Xuan met his gaze. "Early Body Tempering."
A few quiet scoffs came from behind.
Han raised an eyebrow. "How long?"
Yan Xuan answered truthfully. "Several weeks."
"That slow?" someone muttered.
Han did not stop walking. "And injuries?"
"None," Yan Xuan replied.
That earned silence.
Han turned back. "Why?"
Yan Xuan did not answer immediately.
"Speak," Han said.
"I don't force progress," Yan Xuan said. "If the body isn't ready, advancement creates debt."
Han stared at him for a long moment.
"Debt," he repeated softly.
He smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it.
"Remember those words," Han said. "You'll see how expensive they are."
Later, during paired sparring, Yan Xuan was assigned a partner.
A lean disciple with quick eyes stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.
"Name's Zhou Kai," the disciple said with a grin. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."
Yan Xuan inclined his head. "I appreciate that."
Zhou Kai laughed. "Relax, it's just sparring."
The signal was given.
Zhou Kai moved first, Qi flaring visibly as he stepped in with a sharp palm strike.
Yan Xuan shifted.
Not backward.
Sideways.
Zhou Kai's strike passed inches from Yan Xuan's chest, momentum carrying him off balance. Yan Xuan tapped Zhou Kai's shoulder lightly and stepped away.
"Again," Zhou Kai said, frowning.
This time, Zhou Kai attacked faster, Qi surging harder.
Yan Xuan stepped in.
One short movement. A precise twist of the wrist. Zhou Kai's arm locked painfully as his own Qi surged against misaligned joints.
Zhou Kai gasped and stumbled back.
"Stop," Instructor Han said sharply.
Zhou Kai shook his arm, face pale. "He didn't even use Qi!"
Han looked at Yan Xuan. "Did you?"
Yan Xuan answered calmly. "No."
"How did you stop him?"
Yan Xuan thought for a moment. "He committed too early."
Han stared.
Then he laughed quietly.
"Commitment," Han said, turning to the group, "is not courage. It's exposure."
He looked back at Yan Xuan.
"You fight like someone who doesn't believe in second chances," Han said.
Yan Xuan met his gaze. "I don't rely on them."
Han nodded slowly.
That evening, back at the dormitory, voices followed Yan Xuan as he entered.
"That's him," someone whispered."The one from sparring.""He didn't even circulate Qi."
Zhou Kai sat on his bed, flexing his arm. When he saw Yan Xuan, he hesitated.
"…You were holding back," Zhou Kai said.
"Yes," Yan Xuan replied.
Zhou Kai grimaced. "Why?"
Yan Xuan answered honestly. "Because breaking you would attract attention."
Zhou Kai stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
"Cold," Zhou Kai said. "But fair."
He looked at Yan Xuan more seriously. "You're not average, are you?"
Yan Xuan did not answer.
He sat down and closed his eyes.
Qi settled.
Around him, conversations continued—about talent, speed, ambition.
Yan Xuan listened without engaging.
Instructor Han's words echoed quietly in his mind.
Debt.
Yan Xuan understood it clearly now.
Everyone here was borrowing power from the future.
He was the only one paying upfront.
And when payment came due—
He would be the last one still standing.