The Five Fists of Narrow Stone Peak stood in a line, each one towering and built like a stone wall, their expressions unreadable. My eyes scanned the group, and Wei Long’s sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Gu Bei," he called, stepping forward with an air of authority. The name echoed in my mind. Gu Bei stepped out of line, his movements deliberate yet restrained. His gaze met mine, and I could see the wariness there. He wasn’t one of the men who had attacked me in Crescent Bay City. No, he’d been passed out drunk, missing the brawl entirely.
I tempered my anger, keeping my breathing steady. This wasn’t about personal grudges. Not today. I had to stay calm.
The man before me was a giant, easily a head taller than me, and built like an ox. His shaved head gleamed in the afternoon light, and as I studied him more closely, I noticed a burn mark trailing from his neck to his shoulder, a discolored patch of skin that stood out against his otherwise rough-hewn exterior.
I gestured toward the line of the Five Fists behind him. "You all look... strikingly similar. Are you related?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, half curiosity, half an attempt to gauge the dynamic between them.
Gu Bei shook his head, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "No. Not brothers, not by blood. Just... brothers in training."
I nodded slowly, taking in the way they stood together. Their appearance was almost uncanny. Same shaved heads, same muscular frames, but now that I looked closer, I could see the subtle differences. Gu Bei with his burn scar, another missing a tooth, one with a nose that looked like it had been kicked in by a horse, and the last bearing a scar that ran from his ear down his jawline. Despite their similarities, each of them bore the marks of their past struggles, small details that set them apart from each other.
I don't recall them having those when I first encountered them. Perhaps they've been through much since our last meeting.
Wei Long’s voice broke through my observations. "Since this is a demonstration, you will be given the first three moves, Kai." His tone was smooth, diplomatic, but there was an edge to it. "If it becomes too heated, I will step in. This is a demonstration first and foremost. Safety is paramount."
I nodded, my mind already working through possible openings. Gu Bei’s presence loomed over me like a mountain, but I couldn’t let his size intimidate me. I had trained too hard for that.
The ground beneath my feet felt solid, familiar. My fists clenched at my sides, and I could feel the quiet hum of qi stirring within me, waiting to be called upon.
I shifted into my stance, keeping my posture loose, my palms open and facing up. It was a position of readiness, a stance that would let me adapt, stay fluid.
To my surprise, I felt calm. Not cocky, just... reassured.
Gu Bei stood across from me, his arms hanging loose at his sides, but I could sense the coiled strength in him. But size wasn’t everything.
"Begin!"
I moved first, closing the distance between us in three quick strides. My first strike shot toward his torso, a feint, testing his defense. Gu Bei’s arm came up to block, solid as a brick wall. No surprise there.
But the next two hits were the real ones.
I twisted my hips, throwing a sharp hook to his ribs. My fist connected with a satisfying thud, and I followed it immediately with a palm strike to his chest, sinking the blow into his sternum. Gu Bei staggered back, his eyes widening, clearly not expecting the speed or precision of my attack.
And in that moment, I realized how far I’d come.
He was strong, there was no denying that. But he was slow. His size and power were impressive, but they didn’t intimidate me anymore. Not after everything I’d been through.
I saw it clearly now—something that had eluded me when fighting opponents who either overwhelmed me with superior skill or were too familiar. It wasn’t about how many techniques I had or how strong my punches were.
It was about knowing when to use them.
A surge of clarity washes over you.
Your Mind has advanced to Qi Initiation Realm - Rank 2
Gu Bei’s next strike came, a heavy, wide punch aimed straight at my head. It was powerful but predictable. I sidestepped, my body moving with a fluid grace I had honed through endless training, and I flowed into the first principle of the Bamboo Reprisal Counter, deflecting his blow with my forearm, redirecting his energy away from me. RÀ
He grunted in frustration as he overextended, his fist passing harmlessly by. He followed up with a swing of his other arm, but I stepped into his guard, using Rooted Banyan Stance to brace myself as I blocked the strike with ease.
“Your loyalty is commendable. But the doors of Narrow Stone Peak are always open, should you ever decide to walk a different path.”
With that, he stepped back, signaling for his disciples to fall into line.
“We’ll stay in the area for a few more days,” he announced, his tone as diplomatic as ever. “Should anyone reconsider or wish to discuss the matter further, you’ll know where to find us. Your safety and prosperity, after all, of the utmost importance to us.”
With that, he turned on his heel, his disciples following closely behind, leaving the village square in a disciplined formation. As Wei Long turned, his gaze lingered on me for just a moment longer, his expression unreadable. A chill ran down my spine, but I forced myself to stand tall.
The villagers slowly began to disperse, murmuring amongst themselves, but I caught Lan-Yin and Wang Jun moving toward me, admiration plain on their faces. I could feel the pressure in my chest ease just a little, though not entirely.
But the more I let that thought settle, the more I realized just how far I’d come in such a short time. Gu Bei wasn’t nearly as fast or skilled as Ping Hai, but he was still a cultivator. And here I was, standing victorious. Me—a village boy, barely a year into my training. Yet, despite all that, I had won.
The realization swelled inside me, and with it came a surge of pride, a warmth that spread through my chest. All my training, all the hours spent bruising my hands and legs, had paid off. It hadn’t been for nothing.
A few clapped me on the back, offering their congratulations, but the warmth of their praise didn’t sit as comfortably as I expected. Wasn’t this what I wanted? Their respect, their approval? I had finally earned it, but now it felt... fleeting.
I caught sight of Elder Ming standing at the edge of the square. I made my way over to him, feeling a mixture of pride and exhaustion settle over me.
"You’ve come far, Kai," he said, his voice quiet yet firm.
"Today proved it. All the training, all the effort, it wasn’t for nothing. It’s proof that it mattered."
Elder Ming's brow furrowed slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he turned to face me fully. "Kai," he said quietly, his gaze searching mine, "you don’t need proof that your efforts bore fruit. That’s not what truly matters."
I blinked, not fully understanding his meaning. "But... isn’t that the point of all this? To get stronger, to show that the training worked?"
He shook his head, his expression still calm but laced with something deeper, something that cut through the surface of my words. "It’s not about showing anything to anyone, Kai. Strength, real strength, is found in your effort, not in the results. Whether you became a heaven-defying genius or simply a man with a strong heart... I would be equally pleased."
"But if... if I failed, if I didn’t live up to expectations—"
"Expectations are fleeting," he interrupted gently. "What matters is how you walk your path, not where it leads. If you put your heart into what you do, whether you rise to the heavens or never make it beyond these village walls, that is enough. I would be just as proud of you if you never became a great cultivator, so long as you gave everything you had."
His words sank deep into me, settling like stones in a still pond. I’d been so focused on proving myself, on showing everyone that my training wasn’t wasted, that I hadn’t thought about it like that. I’d conditioned myself to believe that only success mattered, that victory was the only proof of my worth. That’s why every failure felt so sharp, so devastating.
I’d built my entire perception of myself around the outcome. Around winning, around proving myself.
I met his gaze, my mind replaying my losses... I realized now why each defeat had stung so much. I hadn’t accepted them as part of the journey. I’d seen them as failures, as proof that I wasn’t enough.
"Detach from the outcome, Kai. Be pleased that you’re growing, that you’re walking your path earnestly. That’s the real reward."
"You're right," I said softly, the words carrying more weight than I expected. I looked at him with new clarity. "I’ve spent so long tying my success to whether I win or lose... that I forgot why I started in the first place."
That was what Elder Ming did. He tempered me, whether it was pulling me back when I was riding high on a wave of success or lifting me up when I sank into shame after a failure.
As the villagers slowly dispersed, murmuring about the spar and glancing my way with admiration, I stayed rooted in place, Elder Ming’s words lingering like a steady drumbeat in my mind.
I didn’t need to prove myself to anyone. Not even to him. My journey wasn’t measured by how others saw me, but by the quiet satisfaction of knowing I was giving it everything I had.
And for the first time, that was enough.