The autumn wind blew gently through the academy courtyard. Leaves rustled across the stone tiles as Tang San sat cross-legged beneath a sparse tree, eyes closed, breathing steady. His robes clung to his skin with the sweat of recent exertion. Small cuts lined his arms, and his right eye was still faintly swollen from a blow he hadn't dodged fast enough.
But he didn't mind.
These wounds were progress. They were signs that he was enduring, adapting, and advancing—step by step, without shortcuts.
His hands rested on his knees, palms facing upward as he circulated the Mysterious Heaven Technique. Spirit energy flowed into him at a steady rhythm, just slightly faster than before. His control had become precise. There were no leaks, no wild surges, just calm absorption.
It was not an earth-shaking breakthrough.
But it was real.
---
A Humble Meal, A Quiet Moment
Later that evening, Tang San sat with Xiao Wu in the corner of the dining hall. The place was unusually quiet—many students had gone home early for the approaching winter break. Only a few remained, and even they were distant, knowing Tang San's routine had shifted.
He had become a figure both respected and… carefully avoided.
"Heard you beat another instructor today," Xiao Wu said, grinning as she crunched into a steamed bun.
Tang San smiled faintly but shook his head. "Barely. If it lasted another minute, I'd have lost."
"But you didn't." She nudged him with her elbow. "You've changed. Not just stronger—you're colder now."
He blinked and looked at her. "Colder?"
She shrugged. "Not in a bad way. Just… more focused. More quiet. Like you're always thinking ahead."
Tang San didn't reply.
Because she wasn't wrong.
He had begun to distance himself from distractions. Time felt shorter. And while others his age played or relaxed, he trained.
Every day.
Every hour he could.
He had a goal.
And he could feel the second ring approaching.
---
Grandmaster's Directive
Later that night, Grandmaster summoned him.
The older man stood beside a desk filled with books and scrolls, hands clasped behind his back.
"Tang San," he began, "you've trained in simulated combat, sparred against people, and refined your control over spirit energy."
"Yes, Teacher."
"But you've yet to truly confront a life-or-death situation. That will be the final tempering before your second ring."
Tang San's eyes narrowed. "A spirit beast?"
Grandmaster nodded. "One in the wild. You'll track it yourself. Study its patterns. And when the time is right—strike. You must earn the ring with your own will."
There was no hesitation in Tang San's voice. "I understand."
"Good," Grandmaster said, but his expression remained stern. "But remember. Survival is more important than victory. If the enemy is beyond you, escape."
Tang San gave a respectful bow.
Inside, he was calm. Focused. Ready.
---
Preparations
The following morning, Tang San gathered supplies. He didn't take much—only what was necessary.
A spirit locator tool.
Basic herbs for healing and stamina.
A dagger laced with a slow-acting paralyzing agent, prepared through months of careful study.
His Blue Silver Grass remained quiet, slumbering under the surface of his skin, ready to emerge at a moment's notice.
And always, buried in his chest, the black stone.
It had fused further into him these past weeks—so subtle that even he barely felt it. But during combat or meditation, it occasionally shimmered with faint warmth.
It was not something he understood.
And he didn't try to.
He simply let it be.
---
Into the Forest
Tang San entered the Nuoding Spirit Forest under the first light of dawn. The mist was thick. The trees loomed tall and wild. He moved cautiously, slow footsteps muffled by fallen leaves.
He wasn't looking for a beast right away.
He was learning the rhythm of the forest.
The direction of the wind.
The trails of broken branches that hinted at recent movement.
He spent the first day tracking.
Not hunting.
He saw a few low-level spirit beasts—deer-like creatures with faint glow in their eyes, a serpentine vine beast slithering through the underbrush—but none were suitable for his second ring.
He needed something stronger.
But not too strong.
Something that aligned with his Blue Silver Grass.
---
A Discovery at Dusk
On the third night, as he crouched beneath a thick root system for shelter, he saw it.
A Crimson-Spotted Vine Panther.
It moved like mist—low, fast, deadly. Its spirit energy was around the 900-year range. A touch stronger than ideal for him, but not overwhelming.
Its movements were agile.
Its attacks fast and accurate.
But most importantly—it possessed vine-based attributes.
Tang San felt his instincts stir.
It was the right target.
He began studying its path. The way it circled territory. The way it hunted smaller prey. He didn't attack. Not yet.
He would wait.
Prepare.
Learn.
And then, he would strike.
---
Within the Stillness
Each night after tracking, Tang San meditated.
The Mysterious Heaven Technique continued refining his internal energy. Not by large leaps—but with depth. Density. Control.
He felt his connection to Blue Silver Grass deepening, his senses stretching farther into the environment.
And the black stone…
It did nothing.
But he felt its silence as a shield. A veil.
No matter how his energy shifted, the world around him could not detect the details. It was like his cultivation had become part of the background itself.
Hidden.
---
A Final Thought
On the fifth day in the forest, Tang San opened his eyes just before dawn.
The panther was nearby.
The time had come.
He stood slowly, exhaled quietly, and walked into the shadows—every movement silent, every step deliberate.
Tomorrow, he would fight.
And whether he succeeded or failed… it would be on his own terms.
---
End of Chapter 22