The morning air had the hard clarity of washed linen. Lantern smoke thinned into blue; the pines stood as patient as ever. Master Han's summons came without flourish—the kind of call that meant no one would be spared the question it posed. Li Wei folded the ledger under his arm and met the elder at the training yard, where a circle of outer disciples had already gathered like a series of low tide-rings.
Master Han did not smile. He only set a single wooden stool at the yard's center and placed a flat, worn stone upon it—the "trial stone," he said years ago, meant to temper patience and expose habit.
"You will stand upon the stone," Master Han announced to the small crowd. "No dual cultivation, no external aid, no system-triggered intimacy allowed. For as long as an elder counts—till discipline breaks or endurance proves. This is to test your foundation, not your shortcuts. Li Wei, step forward."
The rules landed like a cut of cold water. No dual cultivation. No Mei Ling's steadying touch. No Yun Shuang's blunt anchor. The system's little blue rectangle flickered faster than usual, registering the new constraint.
[NOTICE]
Host: Li Wei
Event: Master Han's Endurance Trial — Prohibition: Dual Cultivation & Partner-Assisted Qi.
Objective: Maintain posture and micro-orbit without external aid for prescribed duration.
Reward: +200 Qi; Title Consideration: "Disciplined Junior" (conditional).
Hint: Use meridian control, breath discipline, and mental partitioning.
Li Wei's chest narrowed—not from fear but from a place that cared for hard problems. The Obsidian Heart thudded faintly against his ribs, a private metronome that reminded him the relic's protection was contingent on prudence. He thought of Hua Lin's hands on his shoulders, of her micro-adjustments to the waist spiral, of the meridian knots she had taught him to feel and loosen. He thought, too, of the ledger, and of the governance he had been building; a man who asked others to be accountable must be accountable first.
He bowed and stepped up.
The posture was not exotic: low horse stance, feet turned slightly, spine tall and loose, palms open and balanced at belly level. The kind of stance that punished angle and rewarded patience. Master Han moved a slow ceremonial pace, walking the circle, nodding once at specific points that mattered—ground the root, let the waist spiral, ease the throat. He set a single bamboo timer: twelve hours. In old terms it was a day's half. In the terms Li Wei had argued with himself in the dark, it was long enough to prove intention and short enough to remain humane.
As the first hours unrolled, the body began to sing a straightforward song of complaint—muscle burn, a tremor at the knees, a tightening like a fist at the lower back. Li Wei let the sensations be data. He breathed to four, held two, exhaled six; he cycled his eyes to the inside, to the meridian diagram inked into his mind by Hua Lin's patient corrections.
The absence of dual-cultivation was not merely a rule; it was a crucible. He missed Mei Ling's guiding palm, Yun Shuang's blunt energy, Lianxi's nourishing broth. But the trial's lesson was about what he could produce alone: calibrated intent, alone-earned Qi, the slow accrual that did not glow in a system popup but lived in tendon and breath. He summoned the images Hua Lin had taught him—meridians as braided cords, attention threaded like a weft through warp. He let the Heavenly Groping Hand's choreography recede from showiness into the finer mechanics: how to distribute force along channels so the body accepted rather than resisted.
Pain came and left in cycles, like waves. At hour four his quads trembled so hard his toes searched for new purchase. He breathed and imagined the roots of his stance sinking further into the earth. At hour seven his mind flirted with old temptations: shortcuts, system prompts, an image of the Obsidian Heart as a cheat-code. He pictured Mei Ling's face to steady his chest, then scolded himself inwardly for the thought—he was not allowed the aid of others for the test. Instead he turned his memory into a stern but tender ledger entry: remember consent, remember governance, remember why you wanted to be tempered.
By hour nine a small crowd had returned to watch in respectful silence. The outer apprentices had assigned shifts to hold each other's space; Mei Ling brought cool water at a respectful distance and set the cup at Li Wei's foot only when Master Han nodded. Hua Lin scribbled notes in a quiet corner, her expression near-austere but not unkind. On the inner veranda, a few inner eyes lingered; the envoy's acolyte stood at the margin like a neutral clock. The world narrowed into the stone under Li Wei's feet and the slow inside-count of breath.
At hour eleven the muscles wanted to give and the mind flirted with a story of failure. Li Wei looked inward and felt something shift: instead of desperation, a ledgered calm—the arithmetic of discipline. He tightened his breath slightly, coaxed the waist spiral to its correct angle, and let a small schism of Qi flow not as a spike but as a patient current. The stance became less about resisting pain and more about converting the discomfort into informational rhythm.
The bamboo timer's final ticks came and went like small beads passing a thread. When Master Han lifted a hand, the world seemed to inhale and hold the sound. Twelve hours were complete.
Li Wei's legs shook as he stepped down, knees soft as reed. He was not whole in the way he had been at dawn; he was different—sharpened, steadier. No system pop celebrated with fireworks; rather, the little blue rectangle noted the accomplishment with its usual dry punctuation.
[RESULT]
Trial: Endurance Complete. Duration: 12 hours. Condition: No dual-cultivation aid detected. Reward Granted: +200 Qi; Passive Unlocked: Endurance +5% (temporary). Note: Consideration for title advancement — refer to elders.
Master Han's face was for once less unreadable. He set his staff by the bench and approached Li Wei. "You pleased me not by winning but by choosing the harder rule," he said, voice like a whetstone that had been used properly. "Discipline is not the absence of temptation but the agreement to do without it when duty commands. You passed."
A small, delighted shout went up among the outer circle. Mei Ling pressed her hand to his shoulder, proud but practical. Hua Lin's eyes were wet and sharp—approval in a teacher's ledger.
Even the inner veranda's observers softened fractionally; Lan Yue inclined her head, something like a private salute.
That night the envoy's acolyte brought a brief, formal note: the envoy had taken the trial under advisement and recommended Li Wei's continued observation for rank consideration. The system chimed one last time—this time with a private flourish:
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED]
Name: Tempered Heart. Reward: +200 Qi. Passive Granted: Endurance +5% (permanent). Inner Attention: Favorable. Advisory: Continue governance; resist temptation to expedite.
Li Wei let the words sit inside him like a warm cloth. The Obsidian Heart under his robe felt small and steady, as if approving the choice. He had not stolen gain by charm or by shortcuts; he had learned the labor that made gains sustainable.
As the yard emptied and the pines stitched shadows across the stone, Li Wei recorded the trial in his ledger—time, witnesses, a few notes from Hua Lin—and then sat with Mei Ling for the little aftercare ritual he had promised himself: warm broth, a slow breath, and a soft hand at his wrist. The Perverted Dao had handed him tools; tonight he'd used one to temper himself. Master Han's small nod had been more than approval; it was a map forward.
End of chapter 27