Blossoming Path

Days passed in a blur of preparations, every hour spent honing my plan. I moved deliberately, staying under the radar while making sure everything was set.

Despite everything, I maintained the shop. Supplies were scarce, and even with my storage of dried herbs and extracted essences, it wouldn’t last forever.

Still, the shop remained open. People stopped by, not to buy anything, but to offer their support in the ways they could. Mrs. Wang brought over a steaming pot of stew one morning, pressing it into my hands before I could protest.

Others dropped off small tokens; a basket of eggs, a bundle of firewood, even a loaf of freshly baked bread. Some stayed to chat, like Xiao Bao and the other children. It was both heartwarming and humbling, but it also served as a constant reminder of why I couldn’t fail.

But as Wei Long promised, he quietly left me alone, allowing me to work in peace.

As I expected, Lan-Yin and Wang Jun were among those who stopped by, though their visits were far from casual. They didn’t bother with pretense, each of them entering the shop with an air of determination that left no room for pleasantries.

Lan-Yin leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she fixed me with a pointed look. “So, are you going to tell us what’s going on, or are we supposed to keep pretending nothing’s wrong?”

Wang Jun stood nearby, his expression softer but no less concerned. “Lan-Yin’s right. We’re not blind. You’ve been avoiding us, and it’s obvious you’re planning something. Why not just tell us?”

I met their gazes, doing my best to appear calm. “I’m biding my time,” I said simply, shrugging as though it were nothing. “There’s nothing to worry about. When the time is right, I’ll explain everything.”

Lan-Yin’s eyes narrowed, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. “Biding your time for what? Kai, we’re your friends. If something’s happening, we can help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Wang Jun nodded in agreement. “Whatever it is, we’re with you. You know that, right?”

Their sincerity was almost enough to make me break. Almost. But I couldn’t risk involving them—not until I was certain my plan would work. The less they knew, the safer they’d be.

“I appreciate it, really,” I said, forcing a small smile. “But this is something I need to handle myself. Trust me, okay?”

Lan-Yin looked like she wanted to argue, but Wang Jun placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “Fine,” she said reluctantly, pushing off the counter. “But don’t think you’re getting away with this forever. We’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

Without Elder Ming’s morning training, I was forced to compensate by running through the drills on my own and visualizing them within the Memory Palace technique, never straying further than the perimeter of my garden.

With Wei Long potentially aware of Tianyi’s presence, I couldn’t leave my home unattended.

In the depths of my Memory Palace, I conjured the Five Fists and Wei Long. The process was painstaking, drawing from every scrap of observation I had of their techniques, their mannerisms, their strengths and weaknesses.

The Five Fists appeared first, their forms solidifying with every detail I could recall. Their brute force and tendency to favor grapples with overpowering moves stood at the forefront.

I started slow, rehearsing counters to their basic maneuvers. How they’d lunge for a grapple, or their aggressive barrages that forced me to parry and evade, my own movements calculated to exploit the slightest gap in their rhythm. Each sequence played out in vivid detail, their movements sharp and deliberate, as though they were truly alive.

But it wasn’t enough. The Five Fists were third-class disciples—skilled, but far from the true danger.

With a deep breath, I let my imagination stretch, summoning a figure I’d never seen in action. Wei Long.

His form was hazy at first, an outline more than a man, but as I forced my mind to work, he began to take shape. I started with his demeanor. The way he carried himself, always calm, always calculating. I layered on what I knew of their style. Then I added the small tells I’d observed in our conversations; the way his stance shifted when he stood, balanced but ready, or the way his gaze lingered on people’s weak points.

I pushed my imagination further, combining what I’d seen from the Five Fists with the refinement of a first-class disciple. Where their grapples were predictable, Wei Long’s were fluid, adaptable. Where their strikes left themselves open, Wei Long’s were precise, each one part of a larger strategy to corner and dismantle his opponent. I blended the Five Fists with shades of past opponents—Lan Sheng, Feng Wu, Ping Hai—to fully visualize the strength and technique of a first-class disciple. Ŕ

The sparring began, and it was brutal. In my Memory Palace, Wei Long struck with a speed and ferocity that forced me to adapt on the fly. He didn’t react to my moves—he anticipated them, countering before I could finish an attack. My strikes met empty air, and when I tried to evade, his grip found me anyway, locking me into a grapple that ended with me slammed into the ground.

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Each defeat brought frustration, but also clarity. I replayed the scenarios, adjusting my movements, my timing. If he reached for a grapple, I visualized myself striking at his wrist, redirecting his momentum to create an opening. When his strikes came too fast to counter, I imagined myself retreating, using the environment—broken terrain, uneven footing—to slow him down.

And still, he won every single time.

But this wasn’t about victory, not yet. It was about learning. Understanding. Each simulated fight sharpened my instincts, taught me to think faster, react smarter. It was a process of chipping away at the unknown, carving out a path forward.

I knew this wouldn’t be enough. A Memory Palace visualization was no substitute for the real thing. The Wei Long I fought was a construct of my imagination, not the man himself. He would be faster, stronger, and far more cunning than anything I could predict. But it was a start. A step forward in the right direction.

By the time I pulled myself out of the Memory Palace, the sun was dipping low in the sky, painting the remnants of my garden in hues of gold and orange. My body ached from hours of drills, and my mind was exhausted from the intensity of my visualizations. But beneath the fatigue was a quiet determination.

Wei Long and the Five Fists wouldn’t be taken down by brute strength or raw talent. But with preparation, precision, and just enough unpredictability, I might stand a chance.

And then, early one afternoon, as I was preparing to head out, a familiar voice greeted me at the door.

Li Wei shifted slightly, scratching the back of his head as he met my gaze, his expression a bit stilted, as if he were carefully choosing his words. "So... the greenhouse is done," he said, his tone direct but with a quiet sense of pride. "Since the structure wasn’t hit, we finished on time."

“I owe you and your father. What’s the total? I know I’ve only paid for materials, and you said you'll determine the pay once it was complete.”'

“No, uh, no need. It’s fine. You don’t... have to pay.” He stumbled over his words a little, and I could see he was uncomfortable. “You should use the money on the garden. Getting it back on track. It’d be better that way.”

I chuckled, trying again. “Come on, Li Wei. I can more than afford it. And you earned it, no question.”

"The work was good. I liked doing it.” He paused, glancing up briefly. “It helped me gain a few levels in Harmonic Carpentry. Better than money, anyway. Think of it as paying my debt to you.”

"Debt?" I barked out a laugh. "At what point have you ever owed me?"

Li Wei shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flicking to the floor. "You… probably don’t remember,” he muttered, almost as if he were embarrassed. He looked up, forcing himself to continue, though his words came out haltingly. “It was years ago. I got really sick, fever was bad, thought I wouldn’t… make it.” He scratched his head, eyes darting to the side as if avoiding the intensity of the memory. “You came over and helped. Brought all these herbs, kept trying things out. Didn’t ask for anything… except maybe help with your garden when the fences need to be fixed.”

I blinked, the memory slowly resurfacing. I hadn’t thought about it in years. It was just part of those early days, back when I was still figuring out how to fill the role of village herbalist. Back then, I’d taken on almost every case, desperate to learn, terrified of making a mistake after my parents had passed. When Li Wei had fallen sick, I’d been far from confident, and I’d used up nearly all my herbs trying different remedies.

“Li Wei,” I said, my voice softer, remembering. “I… I just wanted to help. I didn’t want anyone else in the village to lose family like I did. Think nothing of it.”

He nodded, glancing down. “How could I? I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for you. So, I’m… paying it back, I guess.” He shrugged, his voice almost too casual. “Besides, now you can use the money for new seeds or plants. It’s better.”

A warmth spread through me, something grounding yet humbling. It was easy to forget the impact of those small gestures from so long ago, but here it was, circling back in a way I hadn’t expected. I smiled, clapping him gently on the shoulder. “Thank you, Li Wei. But you’re still getting those energy elixirs, whether you want them or not.”

A small, awkward grin tugged at his lips. “Wouldn’t say no to that.” He paused, then added with more confidence, “But I’d rather you get the garden back up first.”

The quiet determination in his voice strengthened my resolve. This village wasn’t just a place to live; it was a community that looked out for each other, even when they didn’t have to.

And now, I knew exactly what I had to protect.

“Well,” Li Wei said, shifting his weight, “what’s first?”

I straightened, feeling the focus return. “Not planting,” I said, my voice steady. “There’s something I need to take care of first.”

Li Wei gave me a small nod, his gaze lingering on me for a moment. I could see the question there, curiosity tempered by a quiet respect. But, true to his usual self, he didn’t push, merely offered a brief, “Let me know if you need help,” before he turned and made his way down the path.

As his figure disappeared around the corner, I glanced back at the greenhouse, appreciating the sturdy, elegant structure. It was beautiful. An achievement that would nurture the future of my garden. And it only deepened my resolve to protect this village and everyone in it.

I stepped back into my house, closing the door quietly behind me. I’d made my preparations, but seeing that greenhouse completed reminded me of the responsibility I had.

It was time to act.

Pulling open a small drawer beneath my workbench, I retrieved five vials of a viscous liquid, carefully sealed and labeled, as well as two pills I’d prepared. I held each one in my hand for a moment, mentally reviewing their effects, their timing, every contingency I’d planned for. This would need precision.

“Tianyi, Windy,” I called out, though I knew they were probably hiding or resting somewhere in the shadows of the house. “We’ll wait until nightfall to make our move.”

I tucked the vials into my satchel, ensuring they were secure. Tonight, I’d have to take my plans straight to the heart of the matter.

Narrow Stone Peak was going to get a response they wouldn’t expect.

The evening passed slowly, each hour marked by a quiet tension as I went over my strategy one last time. Finally, as the last sliver of daylight faded from the sky, I made my way to the Soaring Swallow Tea House.

As I stood in front of the door, I swallowed the two pills with a single gulp. They settled like a quiet pulse in my bloodstream, sharpening my senses and steadying my breath. Even my heartbeat felt measured, each beat a reminder of the control I needed tonight. No missteps.

I pushed the doors open.

The air was thick with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of cups as I entered. Only a few of the villagers were present. They quieted upon seeing me.

I spotted the Five Fists and Wei Long gathered at their usual table, already well into their meal, exchanging stories and toasts as if they hadn’t a care in the world.

I took a slow breath, steadying myself before moving forward with practiced calm. As I approached their table, Lan-Yin noticed me first, her eyes widening slightly as I gave her a nod.

“Lan-Yin,” I said with a warm smile, loud enough for the Five Fists to hear, “Please serve them some of your best wine. I’ll cover it.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, the question clear in her eyes, but she nodded, going to fetch the bottles.

I took a cup as soon as she returned, raising it high.

“I’ve come to a decision after these past few days. I’ve seen your dedication and persistence, and… I’m moved. If Narrow Stone Peak is so keen to guard Gentle Wind Village, then I’d be honored to celebrate such a commitment.”

Silence fell over the table as the disciples exchanged surprised glances, Wei Long watching me with a guarded expression, as though trying to decipher my intentions.

“Let’s toast to a new era for Gentle Wind Village,” I added, gesturing to Lan-Yin to fill everyone’s cups.

The disciples raised their cups in a tentative toast and I mirrored their gesture, feeling the weight of my own plans solidify.

As I raised my cup to toast, I caught Wei Long’s gaze. His eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering beneath his polite smile. He was trying to read me, to pick apart my words for hidden meanings. I met his gaze with a calm I didn’t fully feel, letting the silence stretch just a moment too long before I took a deliberate sip of my drink.

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