The sun rose lazily over the sect, spilling golden light across the training grounds. Birds chirped loudly, perhaps too loudly for Li Chen's taste. He stirred, muttering under his breath, and realized—yet again—that Xu Ming had beaten him to the training hall.
"Why are you always so early?" Li Chen asked, squinting at the younger cultivator, who was already stretching awkwardly on the stone floor.
Xu Ming looked up, grinning. "You said yesterday that early cultivation improves your qi circulation! I'm just being obedient."
Li Chen pinched the bridge of his nose. "Obedient is one thing. Showing up before dawn to scream at the sun is another."
The younger boy shrugged. "The sun didn't complain, did it?"
Li Chen sighed. It was a familiar feeling—like trying to keep a fire under control while the wind blew in from every direction. Xu Ming had grown considerably over the past year, not just in strength but in confidence. His Chaos Physique, once something to hide, was now something he was learning to channel under Li Chen's guidance. And yet, he was still hopelessly naive about the mundane world—a dangerous combination for someone with sword intent ready to flare at any moment.
Today's training was simple—or as simple as Li Chen could make it: coordination exercises and energy compression techniques. Xu Ming, eager as ever, had taken the first half hour turning the entire courtyard into a mess. Stones flew, qi spiraled in all directions, and several birds chose the safest trees in the vicinity to escape.
"Xu Ming! If you continue like this, you'll break the formation I spent three hours constructing yesterday!" Li Chen shouted.
Xu Ming froze mid-motion, eyes wide. "Three hours?!"
Li Chen didn't even have the energy to reply. He simply glared. Xu Ming, sensing danger, dropped into a half-bow, half-roll combo that somehow managed to both amuse and terrify the onlooking novices.
By the time breakfast arrived, they were both exhausted. Xu Ming devoured his rice bowl with the sort of enthusiasm that made Li Chen worry for his qi flow, while Li Chen sipped tea quietly, observing the young disciple with faint pride.
"You've improved," Li Chen said. "Your control is better. Your strikes are cleaner. Your qi… is more focused. But you still lack patience."
Xu Ming grinned, juice from a pear dripping onto the floor. "Patience is boring! Why cultivate slowly when you can leap forward?!"
Li Chen rolled his eyes. "Because, Xu Ming, when the heavens are watching… patience keeps you alive. And when they're not, it keeps everyone else alive as well."
Xu Ming chewed thoughtfully. "So… patience is heroic?"
"In a way," Li Chen muttered.
By mid-morning, their training had escalated from exercises to sparring practice. Xu Ming was surprisingly good—but not good enough to beat Li Chen, of course. Every clash was a mix of brilliance and chaos. Stone pillars toppled. Qi arcs licked dangerously close to the rooftops. At one point, a passing disciple screamed as a stray qi sword zipped past his head.
"Watch where you're aiming!" Li Chen barked, pinning Xu Ming against a wall with a perfectly timed sword intent press.
Xu Ming, face red but smiling, panted, "I… I was aiming… well… mostly at you! Yeah, that's it!"
Li Chen, for the first time in a long while, allowed himself a small smile. Still the same reckless little storm, he thought. But… perhaps now, he's learning to bend the wind instead of breaking everything in it.
Training ended, and the two sat atop the sect's main wall, overlooking the courtyard. Xu Ming leaned back, arms crossed behind his head, grinning.
"You know," he said casually, "I think one day, I might surpass you."
Li Chen's eyebrow twitched. "That… is ambitious."
"And dangerous," Xu Ming added cheerfully. "But hey, you'd be proud, right?"
Li Chen's lips twitched, almost a smile. "I'd… tolerate it," he said carefully, watching the sun glint off the rooftops.
For a moment, the two simply sat there in silence. The sect was quiet, peaceful, and for the first time in months, the absence of upper-realm scrutiny felt almost tangible.
Xu Ming yawned. "Senior Brother Li… thanks for sticking with me all this time. Even when I mess up everything."
Li Chen glanced at him, expression softening. "You've done enough to make your own mistakes meaningful. And besides…" He paused, briefly meeting Xu Ming's eyes. "…it's more fun when I have someone to chase after."
Xu Ming laughed loudly, startling a flock of birds, and Li Chen shook his head.
For the first time in a long while, Li Chen allowed himself to enjoy the quiet. Training, laughter, and a little chaos—just enough to remind him that even amidst future threats, growth, and danger, there were moments worth holding onto.
And Xu Ming? Well, he still had a lot to learn—but he would. With Li Chen guiding him, that much was certain.
For now, the lower realm felt like a safe playground. And both master and disciple knew: sometimes, a quiet year could be more dangerous—and more enlightening—than a war in the heavens.