The next day, the group of youngsters arrived with curiosity and energy, moving together toward the newly built training ground. It was a place born from a month of tireless effort, crafted by the villagers and the elders alike. Every plank, rope, and stone had been placed with purpose, designed to challenge, teach, and shape the young warriors.
The ground itself had been built during their one-month trial, a project that had occupied nearly the entire village. From the earliest hours of the morning, villagers could be seen carrying logs, tying ropes, hauling stones, and laying paths. Even after the children returned home from their training runs, they noticed the elders and villagers working tirelessly, sweat glistening in the sun as they shaped what would become the heart of their learning.
The training ground was located at the center of the village, atop a small hill that offered a sweeping view of the entire settlement. Though the hill was not particularly high, its elevation allowed one to see the patchwork of roofs, gardens, and winding paths stretching into the distance. It was one of several such hills in the village, each with its own gentle slopes and clear vantage points. This central hill had long been a gathering place, a spot for community meetings and celebrations, but now it had been transformed into a space for growth, discipline, and discovery.
Excitement bubbled through the children as they climbed the roughly one thousand steps leading to the hilltop. Their breaths came in steady rhythm, their feet striking the worn stone, muscles already humming with anticipation. With each step, the scent of morning dew and fresh earth filled the air, mingling with faint aromas of herbs from nearby gardens. Birds called from the trees lining the path, their song carried by the gentle morning breeze.
Finally, they reached the summit. The morning sun spilled across the village in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows that stretched across rooftops and gardens. The rooftops glimmered softly, dusted with dew, and the winding streets below seemed alive with movement as early risers began their day. From this vantage point, the children could see every corner of their village: the patchwork of homes, the fields where crops swayed gently in the breeze, and the newly constructed training ground, nestled between small hills and open spaces, waiting patiently for them.
The sight left them momentarily speechless. The elders had not only built a ground for physical training but had created a space where every step, climb, and jump would teach them something new. The planks, ropes, and stones glinted in the morning sunlight, hinting at the challenges and lessons embedded in every path. The stream that cut through the grounds reflected the rising sun like molten gold, while the forested edges promised obstacles to test agility, awareness, and teamwork.
Ye Chen's eyes sparkled as she took in the view. "It's… huge! And it's all for us?" she whispered, almost reverently.
Wu Chen nodded, his gaze sweeping across the careful arrangement of logs and ropes. "It's… perfect. I can already imagine the runs, the climbs… the lessons."
From the hilltop, the children could see Elder Tong Chen walking along the central courtyard, inspecting the posts and ropes, his tall frame commanding respect. Liang Shan was adjusting a plank near the stream, testing its stability under the sun's heat. Yan Zhi Lan moved gracefully through the meditation circle, checking stones and herbs with her sharp, calculating eyes. Xiao Ling was fine-tuning a balance path along a ridge, ensuring every rope was taut, every plank secure.
The children realized, with a mixture of awe and excitement, that this space was not just a training ground — it was the culmination of a month of planning, labor, and care. Every adult they had glimpsed working during their daily runs, every motion of effort they had seen in the village, had been for them. The elders had anticipated their needs, and the villagers had given their strength, creating a space that would challenge, teach, and shape them into true warriors.
The morning air was crisp and alive. A gentle breeze brushed against their faces, carrying the faint scent of herbs and wet soil from the forest below. The golden light of dawn stretched across the hills, setting the freshly built training ground aglow. Every rope, every stone, every plank seemed to breathe with new life, whispering promises of struggle and growth.
The group of youngsters stood together at the hilltop, gazing in wonder at the vast space below. It was a sight none of them had expected — what was once a patch of rough terrain and scattered grass had transformed into a sprawling field of purpose and discipline. The villagers had worked through nights and days, their sweat and will shaping every corner, and now, it stood ready.
Yunkai Tao's eyes glimmered as he looked over the landscape. "So this is what they were building for us," he said quietly, his voice carrying both awe and pride. "This is where everything begins."
Chen Li stretched his arms wide, breathing deeply. "Smells like challenge," he said with a grin.
Ye Chen's fingers twitched eagerly. "And opportunity."
Luo Tang laughed, bouncing lightly on his heels. "I don't care what it smells like — I just want to start!"
Their laughter mingled with the morning breeze. Yet beneath that joy was something deeper — a sense of belonging. They had run through forests, climbed hills, and endured weeks of tests, but now, this ground was theirs.
The elders appeared soon after — Tong Chen leading the way with his tall, broad figure, his presence commanding yet calm. Liang Shan followed, his heavy steps echoing strength. Yan Zhi Lan walked with poise, her every movement deliberate, while Xiao Ling's serene smile reflected a quiet knowingness that seemed to see beyond sight itself.
For a brief moment, the elders stood before them in silence. The children felt the weight of their gaze — not harsh, but deep, filled with pride and memory. It was as if they too were seeing their younger selves standing there, eager and untested.
Tong Chen's voice finally broke the stillness. "When I was your age," he began, his tone steady as iron, "this hill was nothing but wild stone and brush. We trained on bare earth, with our hands bleeding and our hearts burning. Now look around you — the villagers, your families, and we elders have built this for you, not to make it easy, but to remind you what unity can create."
The children straightened unconsciously, his words resonating like a bell in their chests.
Liang Shan stepped forward with a hearty laugh. "Don't think this ground will go easy on you, though," he said, crossing his massive arms. "We built it with care — and cruelty. Every stone will test you, every rope will remind you that strength is not born, it's forged!"
A few of the younger ones giggled nervously. Yunkai Tao met his gaze, serious and determined. "We're ready," he said.
"Good," Liang Shan replied with a nod. "Then let's begin."
They descended the final steps together — nearly a thousand stone steps winding around the hill, each one carved by villagers' hands. The ground stretched wide before them, centered around twelve massive wooden tanks that gleamed under the sun. The villagers had begun calling them Dorgons, after the mountain beasts that guarded the valley in legend.
Each Dorgon stood at a different height — some barely taller than a man, others rising like small houses, their hollow interiors waiting to be filled. Between them ran narrow paths lined with wooden buckets, each fitted with rope handles. Nearby, ropes hung from wooden posts, and balance beams crossed over shallow pits filled with sand.
Yunkai Tao tilted his head. "What are those tanks for?"
Tong Chen smiled faintly. "Those," he said, "will become your first teachers."
The group exchanged puzzled looks. Chen Li frowned. "Teachers?"
"Yes," Tong Chen continued. "Each day, after your morning drills, your teams will descend to the river. You will fill these buckets with water and bring them back here — up all one thousand steps — to fill your assigned Dorgon. It will take strength, balance, patience, and teamwork. And if one of you stumbles…"
He let the silence hang. The meaning was clear enough.
Ye Chen groaned softly. "So we'll be carrying water… every day?"
Liang Shan's booming laugh answered him. "Every single day until you stop spilling it!"
The group groaned and laughed together, but the task already etched itself in their minds. It wasn't just carrying water — it was endurance, rhythm, unity.
Yan Zhi Lan's voice joined then, calm and melodic. "You see, the river teaches more than you think. Watch it carefully when you fetch water. It bends, flows, and adapts to everything in its path — yet it never loses its way. You must learn the same. When you carry the water, be like the water — soft in motion, but strong in purpose."
Her words lingered like incense in the air. The children fell quiet, absorbing the thought.
Xiao Ling stepped closer, her robes fluttering lightly in the morning wind. "The water you carry will show your state of mind," she said softly. "If your thoughts are scattered, your steps will falter. If your breath is uneven, the bucket will sway. But when body and mind move as one, even the heaviest load will feel light."
The group nodded slowly. Even Luo Tang, usually restless, stood still, eyes wide in understanding.
Then Tong Chen motioned toward the four smaller training fields surrounding the Dorgons. "Now listen carefully," he said, his tone shifting to command. "Your training from today will follow the Four Paths. Each corner of this ground will train a part of you — body, mind, spirit, and sense."
He pointed first toward the yard where massive logs, ropes, and posts stood in rows. "Liang Shan will guide your strength and endurance. You'll learn to use your body as a weapon and as a shield. He'll push you until your muscles tremble — but only through pain will you build endurance."
Liang Shan grinned and slammed his fist against his chest. "You'll curse my name before the day ends," he said proudly, "but by the month's end, you'll thank me."
Laughter rippled through the group.
Tong Chen's hand then shifted toward the wooden structures balanced over pits of sand and water. "That corner belongs to Xiao Ling," he said. "There, you'll learn balance, awareness, and precision. Every step will test your focus. A single breath out of place will bring you down."
Xiao Ling nodded gently. "The wind changes, the ground shifts — you must not. Balance comes from within."
Next, Tong Chen pointed to the shaded circle beneath the tall trees, where flat stones glimmered in sunlight. "Yan Zhi Lan will teach you the discipline of the mind. Meditation, focus, and stillness. The body cannot move without the mind's command."
Yan Zhi Lan's gaze was calm yet sharp. "You will learn to hear the silence inside you," she said. "When your thoughts stop chasing each other, you will find clarity — and clarity is strength."
Finally, Tong Chen pointed toward the grove to the south, filled with uneven stones and hanging ropes. "And this," he said, "is where I will teach you coordination, speed, and instinct. You'll run through chaos — jump, crawl, and strike. You will learn to move like water — soft enough to flow, strong enough to cut."
The youngsters looked at each other, hearts pounding. It was daunting — but thrilling.
Tong Chen's voice grew louder, carrying across the whole ground. "From this day onward, your training will not separate the mind from the body, or the body from the spirit. You will train all three together. A strong body without wisdom breaks. A sharp mind without discipline wavers. And a pure spirit without courage fades."
Liang Shan raised his voice with a grin. "So stop thinking of yourselves as children! You are apprentices of the Iron Path now!"
The children cheered — loud, fierce, and full of fire. The sound echoed down the hillside, rolling through the village below like a promise of what was to come.
Yan Zhi Lan smiled faintly. "Remember this," she said, her voice like a soft wind over water. "Strength without kindness is hollow. Wisdom without courage is empty. The heart must walk with the hand."
Xiao Ling added, "And never forget — the hardest battles are not against others, but against your own impatience."
As the morning sun rose higher, their shadows stretched long across the golden ground. The wind carried laughter, the rustle of trees, and the faint sound of buckets clinking together. The Iron Ground had been born, and with it, a new beginning — for each of them, for the village, and for the legacy that had waited too long to be renewed.
The elders looked over the young faces before them — some smiling, some trembling, all burning with new purpose. Tong Chen nodded, satisfied.
"Now," he said with quiet strength, "you are ready to practice, not just train. From tomorrow onward, we will stand beside you — to guide you, to teach you not only strength, but awareness. You will learn your mind, your body, and your senses. Together, we will build what the world cannot break."
The wind carried his words like a vow.
And in that golden morning, among ropes and wood and stone, the first generation of Iron Path disciples took their first true breath as warriors.