The winter air bit deep, crisp and unforgiving. A thin layer of frost coated the training grounds, and each breath curled into the air like ghostly tendrils. Despite the frigid conditions, the Silver Lotus Sect bustled with activity.
For the first time in years, winter was not a season of suffering. The disciples were warm, well-fed, and rested—thanks to Ryl Trading's generous supplies.
In the school area, young disciples huddled around low tables, scratching characters onto paper with frozen fingers. Shen Guang, one of the older students, helped guide the younger ones through their lessons, occasionally glancing at the Ryl Trading workers who had brought parchment and ink from the city.
"You're lucky," one of the traders joked "back home, we don't give ink to kids until they stop eating it."
Near the food storage, Liu Ren, a stocky disciple assigned to oversee the supplies, meticulously counted sacks of rice and dried meat. "We haven't had stores this full in years" he muttered.
"It feels like a cheat." A nearby Ryl Trading merchant, Gan Xiu, grinned and slapped him on the back. "That's what a good trade deal does—makes life easier."
Meanwhile, in the weapon maintenance area, Tao Shen, the blacksmith's apprentice, worked tirelessly to keep the weapons from becoming brittle in the cold. "Damn frost cracks the steel." he muttered, rubbing his hands together. A Ryl Trading artisan, Wei Han, inspected a blade before nodding approvingly.
"Try heating the hilts before practice—it keeps the Qi circulation steady."
Nearby, Jian Bo, the eldest sect member, stood with arms crossed, listening to Meyu explain trade principles. "So you're saying supply and demand dictate pricing? Sounds like a fancy way of saying 'charge people more when they're desperate.'"
Meyu sighed dramatically. "It's called 'market value,' Uncle Bo. You can't just give things away for free—unless you enjoy watching the sect starve."
Jian Bo rubbed his chin. "Still feels underhanded."
Meyu grinned. "That's why you're learning. One day, you might even enjoy making a profit."
Jian Bo snorted. "Unlikely."
Wei Han, still inspecting weapons, chuckled. "Better start now. She's relentless."
While all of this was happening, sparring never took a day off with Layla squaring off against her father in the training yard. Her breath steady despite the chill thanks to the Lotus Veil Breathing. The occasional flicker of Qi Rot intertwined with Gale energy swirled around her like darkened wind thanks to the weeks of training with her father.
"Again!" Lin Wuye commanded, stepping into a stance.
She lunged, the air twisting unnaturally as her Qi surged. Their weapons clashed, and a shockwave rippled outward. Layla felt her strength increasing, her control tightening, but—
CRACK.
The wooden staff in her hands shattered upon impact, splintering into fragments.
Silence.
Jiang whistled. "That's a new one."
Bao snorted. "Didn't even last five minutes."
Layla sighed and was visibly upset looking at the broken weapon. "I need something sturdier."
Meyu, who had been watching this unfold, sighed dramatically and reached into a silk-wrapped package. "Lucky for you, I anticipated your incompetence." She held up a custom-forged weapon made from blackened steel infused with a core to withstand Qi bursts.
Layla raised a brow. "How much?"
Meyu grinned. "For you? A very fair, life-destroying amount."
Jiang muttered "Why does doing business with you feel like making a deal with the underworld?"
Meyu waved a hand dismissively. "Oh please, dear Meilin gets this one for free."
Layla narrowed her eyes. "Really?"
Meyu smirked. "Of course. The catch is—every time you break it, you owe me a favour."
Layla's stomach dropped. "Define favour."
"Oh, you'll know when the time comes." Meyu's grin widened like a predator setting a trap.
Lin Wuye just took a sip of tea and let them argue.
The sparring sessions continued, and Lin Wuye called forth his wife to train with the disciples. Most had never seen her fight, assuming she was only the sect's matriarch.
Then she moved.
A sharp whirl of wind surrounded her as she seamlessly executed Step 2—Rushing Wind. Her strikes were swift, controlled, and precise.
Jiang blinked. "Wait, we just got schooled by a mom."
Bao nodded. "I don't know if I should be impressed or embarrassed."
Amidst the chaos, Zhu Fen, the youngest disciple, stepped forward.
He took a slow breath.
Then, with perfect footwork, he executed Step 1—Whispering Breeze.
Jiang and Bao stared at him.
Lin Wuye nodded in approval. "He's the youngest in sect history to achieve this."
Yuxe Wuye, however, stepped forward, adjusting Zhu Fen's stance slightly. "You did well, but your breathing is uneven. Try again, and this time, let the motion flow naturally."
Jiang folded his arms. "I refuse to accept this."
Bao sighed dramatically. "We're getting old, Jiang. The kid's already surpassing us."
Bao patted Zhu Fen's shoulder. "Congrats, kid. Now, let me teach you the most important lesson."
Jiang raised a brow. "Are you actually going to teach him something useful for once?"
Zhu Fen looked up. "What is it?"
Bao smiled. "Always look cool when you fight."
Lin Wuye, watching, smiled. "If she had trained more consistently, she would have reached Step 3 by now."
Yuxe Wuye arched a brow at him. "Are you saying I've been lazy?"
Lin Wuye took a deliberate sip of his tea, clearly choosing his next words carefully. "I'm saying that had you dedicated more time to training—"
Yuxe cut him off, her smile deceptively sweet. "So you're saying I've been lazy."
Bao and Jiang exchanged looks, stepping a few paces back as if avoiding an impending disaster.
Lin Wuye cleared his throat. "I would never use such a word, my dear wife."
Yuxe tapped a finger against her chin and smiled, dangerously. "I see. Then tonight, perhaps you should make dinner."
Lin Wuye froze. "That seems… unnecessary."
She simply hummed, turning her attention back to Zhu Fen. Lin Wuye, defeated, sighed in defeat knowing he has to eat roasted potato tonight.
Jiang whispered to Bao like two girls gossiping about their love life "Master Wuye might be strong, but against his wife? No chance."
Meanwhile, Meyu was "forced" into training alongside the youngest disciples. Layla had personally insisted, much to Meyu's despair. What started as a simple warm-up quickly turned into chaos.
Meyu, with zero martial arts experience but absurd raw strength, accidentally obliterated two training dummies with a single punch.
Jiang and Bao stared.
"I—what?" Jiang sputtered.
Bao looked at the broken remains. "Those dummies are reinforced."
Lin Wuye rubbed his forehead. "This is beyond natural."
The younger disciples, witnessing this, thought it was a fluke. Several challenged her to sparring matches.
She wiped the floor with them.
No technique. No footwork. Just pure brute force.
She shrugged after launching another disciple several feet back. "Atlas made me carry crates twice this size for hours."
Lin Wuye observed her carefully. "If you trained properly, you could become truly formidable."
Meyu dramatically placed a hand over her heart. "And yet, I choose wealth."
Lin Wuye sighed. "Of course you do."
Bao, feeling slightly competitive, challenged her to an arm-wrestling match.
She won. Instantly.
Bao stared at his hand in betrayal. "I—WHAT?!"
Meyu smirked. "Looks like you're not the strongest, Bao."
Jiang, barely holding in his laughter, patted Bao's shoulder. "Maybe we should start selling your humility."
Jiang cracked his knuckles and smirked. "Alright, let me show you how it's done."
Meyu arched a brow. "Oh? You want to lose that badly?"
A group quickly gathered around as Jiang and Meyu sat across from each other, placing their elbows firmly on the trunk of a thick training tree. Disciples whispered among themselves, some placing bets, others just watching in disbelief.
"This won't take long." Jiang said confidently.
"Agreed." Meyu replied with a shark-like grin.
Lin Wuye raised a hand. "Begin."
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then, everything happened.
The air tensed as neither moved an inch, their locked hands trembling slightly. The bark under their elbows splintered. A thick trunk should not be reacting this way to an arm wrestle.
Jiang's smirk faltered as he realized something horrifying—he wasn't winning. His physical prowess reached his peak limit and yet it was being rivalled by Meyu.
The disciples watching were frozen in shock.
"They're... even?" Bao mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.
"Impossible!" Lin Wuye muttered.
Zhu Fen, wide-eyed, asked, "Are they breaking it?"
A sharp CRACK echoed as a part of the trunk snapped under the force of their struggle. Jiang's eyes widened. "Alright. Respect."
Meyu grinned. "Likewise."
Then, they both let go at the same time and shake hands as if they had a new found of respect for each other.
The remaining chunk of the splintered trunk collapsed, sending a dull thud through the courtyard and the dust settled.
Bao, still staring at the trunk, whispered, "What the hell just happened?"
Layla sighed in disbelief. "I give up."