The morning mist lingered low over the training grounds, curling around the practice dummies and sparse trees like curious fingers. Li Chen moved silently among the disciples, but his gaze kept drifting to Xu Ming, who was already halfway through his morning regimen.
Xu Ming's arms glistened with sweat as he forced a series of precise strikes into a wooden dummy. The chaos breathing techniques Li Chen had painstakingly taught him flowed in harmony with his qi, each exhale synchronized with movement, each inhalation drawing in essence from the world around him. Yet, even as Xu Ming executed the movements flawlessly, his brow remained furrowed.
"Too slow!" Li Chen called from the sidelines, his tone more teasing than angry. "Your pulse isn't responding to the rhythm. You're counting strikes instead of feeling the flow!"
Xu Ming glanced up, lips twitching with frustration. "I am feeling it!" he protested, though the quiver in his hands betrayed him.
Li Chen shook his head, smiling faintly. "Feeling is not enough. Chaos breathing is a conversation. Your body, your qi, your mind—they all speak, and you must listen. Stop trying to dominate the technique. Let it dominate you first."
Xu Ming inhaled sharply, resetting his stance. Sweat ran down his spine, dripping onto the polished wooden surface beneath his feet. Slowly, he exhaled and began the series again—but this time, there was a subtle shift. His strikes flowed smoother, the energy coursing in his body slightly more cohesive, like streams converging into a river.
Li Chen's eyes gleamed with approval. "Better. Now let's see if you can link the second stage. Remember—the Five Elements don't just coexist. They respond to one another. You cannot treat them separately."
Two hours passed, filled with corrections, resets, and encouragement. Occasionally, Xu Ming would falter, exhaustion overtaking him—but Li Chen never allowed frustration to linger. Instead, he would interject a small quip or a subtle demonstration, something lighthearted to break tension.
"You know," Li Chen said casually while demonstrating a complicated pulse redirection, "most cultivators would give up after the third attempt. You're stubborn enough to be a problem someday."
Xu Ming's lips twitched into a smile despite himself. "Better a problem for the world than a coward who hides behind walls," he replied, the humor of their banter softening the strain of training.
Li Chen chuckled, but only for a moment, eyes already scanning Xu Ming's pulse. "And yet, cowardice has its merits," he muttered, almost to himself. "Use it wisely, and it can make you survive what others cannot."
By midday, Xu Ming collapsed onto the grass, panting. His qi felt raw and scattered, but he also felt… something new: subtle shifts in his chaos breathing, small harmonies that he had not recognized before.
Li Chen knelt beside him, placing a hand lightly on Xu Ming's shoulder. "You've reached the point where the chaos physique responds to training rather than instinct alone. Foundation for your next breakthrough is forming."
Xu Ming's eyes widened. "Next… breakthrough?"
"Yes," Li Chen said calmly. "You've integrated the first stage enough to safely push into second. You'll feel resistance, but don't fear it. Your body is not breaking—it's evolving."
A long silence followed as Xu Ming absorbed the words. The excitement and apprehension in his eyes reminded Li Chen of himself when he had first encountered a divine technique. And yet, something else surfaced—a bond. Xu Ming was no longer just a disciple under his guidance; he was a companion, someone whose growth he could witness and influence in a way that demanded trust and patience.
The afternoon passed with lighter training, conversation, and subtle competition. Xu Ming tried to match Li Chen in mock sparring, failing in exaggerated ways, which drew laughter from both.
"You've improved," Li Chen remarked, dodging a deliberately sloppy thrust. "But your footwork is still… questionable. Like a dancing ox."
Xu Ming glared playfully. "Better a dancing ox than a frozen statue!"
The laughter echoed across the grounds, and for a brief moment, the tension of the war, the beasts, and the campaigns outside felt distant.
Yet in the quiet, Li Chen's eyes flickered toward the horizon. There would be new pressures soon. New tests. But for now, the bond between master and disciple, between companion and friend, strengthened—quietly, persistently, and with subtle humor that masked the weight of their shared path.
By nightfall, Xu Ming meditated under Li Chen's guidance, the chaos breathing techniques flowing deeper, the Five Elements responding in harmony. Li Chen watched over him, silent and still, noting every pulse and shift, correcting only when absolutely necessary.
He will surpass expectations, Li Chen thought. Not because I force him, but because he chooses to grow—even in fear, even under restraint.
And as the moonlight bathed the training ground, Li Chen allowed himself a rare, faint smile. This was the quiet before another storm—but this time, he was not alone.