I walked along the quiet path back home, Elder Ming’s words still echoing in my mind. The village was beginning to settle down as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. The warmth of the earlier spar had faded, and now I found myself in a strange state of calm, more thoughtful than triumphant. I’d won the fight, but the lesson felt deeper than the victory.
As I neared the house, I saw someone moving near the greenhouse. It was Li Wei, working steadily by himself, carefully installing one of the new glass panes. His hands moved with an almost unnatural precision, the glass sliding into place without so much as a scratch. For a moment, I stood there and watched him.
"Where’s your father?" I called out, stepping closer. "I thought you two were working together on this."
Li Wei glanced over his shoulder, nodding slightly before turning back to work. "He’s at the shop. Doesn’t know much about working with glass, so I’m handling this part. Figured it was better this way."
I watched as he continued with the next pane. His hands were steady, and there was a quiet confidence in the way he handled the fragile material. I couldn’t help but notice how motivated he looked, more focused than I’d seen him before. There was no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing.
"Have you worked with it before?" I asked, folding my arms and leaning against the wooden frame of the greenhouse.
Li Wei shook his head, never pausing in his work. "Nope. First time. But I’ve learned enough about it from studying. Plus, with the Heavenly Interface, it’s helping me get familiar pretty fast."
The Heavenly Interface. Of course. That system had a way of speeding up progress in ways that still surprised me sometimes. But watching him now, it wasn’t just the Interface at work. There was something in the way he handled the glass—careful but not cautious, like he knew exactly where to apply force and when to let it be.
"Looks like you’re doing pretty well," I said, genuinely impressed.
Li Wei let out a chuckle, stepping back from the pane he’d just finished installing. "Thanks. It’s coming along, but it’s not without its hiccups." He nodded toward a shattered pane resting against the wall, shards of glass glinting in the fading light. "That one broke earlier. But it was expected, so I ordered extra just in case."
I raised an eyebrow at that, my lips twitching into a small smile. "So you planned for it to break?"
"Well, yeah. Glass is fragile. It’s bound to happen when you’re still learning how to handle it. Better to plan for failure than to pretend it won’t happen at all."
I couldn’t help but shake my head, inwardly bemoaning how audacious he was. Ordering extra glass knowing he’d break some? And on my tab? But I supposed it made sense. The boy was clever, no denying that.
"You’ve got some nerve," I muttered, half-joking, half-impressed. "But I guess it’s smart."
Li Wei shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Failure’s part of the process, right? As long as you learn from it, it’s not really a failure."
I watched him for a moment, admiring how easily he shrugged off the broken glass as just another step in the learning process. There was something refreshing about it, how he didn’t seem weighed down by mistakes the way I often was. It wasn’t just the glasswork. It was his whole approach. Failure wasn’t an obstacle for him, it was a tool. He used it, learned from it, and kept moving forward.
"You're right," I said, nodding thoughtfully. "You’re doing good work, Li Wei. Really."
"Thanks," he replied, his tone casual, as though my compliment hadn’t surprised him in the slightest.
It made me think about how I reacted to failure. For all the pride I felt in my victories, I realized how much more sharply I felt my losses. How I conditioned myself to expect success, and when it didn’t come, it grated at me far more than it should. But watching him, I saw another way. He expected setbacks, even planned for them, but they didn’t slow him down. If anything, they spurred him on. R̃
And maybe that’s what I needed to do too.
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“You might be right,” I admitted, a little reluctantly. “I’ll write to them tonight. If nothing else, they could give us some advice.”
Li Wei gave me a small smile. “Better safe than sorry.”
As he returned to working on the greenhouse, I lingered for a moment, watching him handle the glass with careful precision. The evening breeze rustled through the trees, and the sound of his tools tapping against the frame echoed softly. Everything seemed so calm, but I couldn’t shake the tension that had been steadily building in my chest.
I had been so focused on my progress, on pushing myself harder, faster, that I hadn’t taken the time to stop and really think about what I was chasing. Success? Strength? Respect? It all felt important, yet now, standing here in the fading light, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
The truth was, I had conditioned myself to only accept one outcome: victory. Anything less felt like failure, and that ate at me, lingered far longer than it should. Watching Li Wei shrug off his mistakes, I realized how different we were. He embraced failure, saw it as part of the process. Me? I avoided it like the plague, and when it happened, I let it consume me.
It’s not the outcome that matters. it’s the effort.
I exhaled slowly, letting the thought sink in. Maybe Elder Ming was right—maybe it wasn’t about proving myself, about showing the world what I could do. Maybe it was about something deeper.
But I wasn’t there yet. Not completely.
I turned away from the greenhouse and began walking back to the shop, the quiet settling in around me like a thick fog. I needed to push forward, to keep going. The people of this village depended on me. And as much as I hated to admit it, asking for help, writing to the Verdant Lotus Sect, was probably the smartest thing I could do right now.
I guided Tianyi back into the shop, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was around. Once inside, the house felt oddly quiet. The earlier rush of adrenaline from the sparring match and the conversation with Li Wei began to fade, leaving me with the weight of my growing concerns.
Her wings fluttered faintly, brushing the doorway as she stepped inside.
"I’m sorry, Kai," she said quietly. "I didn’t mean to reveal myself like that."
I shook my head, sighing softly. "It’s alright. Just... for now, try not to leave the house unless you absolutely have to. There are people here, bad people, who would hurt you if they found out what you really are."
She nodded, her wings folding neatly behind her. "I’ll stay inside, but what are you going to do, Kai? About them?"
I let out a slow breath, the weight of it all pressing down on me. "I have to speed up my progress. What I’ve achieved so far... it’s not enough. If these Narrow Stone Peak cultivators are staying longer than expected, I need to be ready for whatever comes next."
With that, I moved toward the back of the shop, pulling open the wooden door that led to my alchemical workstation. The scent of herbs and fresh soil filled the air, a sharp contrast to the tension lingering in the village. On the table before me were the hybrid plants I’d been cultivating. Their vibrant leaves shimmered faintly.
I don’t know how long we have before things go sideways, but I can’t afford to wait and find out. If I’m not ready when they make their move, the village won’t stand a chance.
Tianyi followed me in, watching curiously as I set up my tools.
I nodded. "They’re ready. These hybrid plants will be the foundation for my next batch of pills. If I can refine them properly, they’ll enhance my qi reserves even further." I glanced at her, offering a small, determined smile. "It’s time to take the next step."
The exhaustion from the day’s events still tugged at me, but there was a fire burning inside me now. I pulled my hair into a messy bun, securing it out of my face as I prepared for a long night of work. I couldn’t afford to be complacent. Not anymore.