The sun had barely crested the horizon when the first sounds stirred atop the hill. The air was cool and fresh, laced with the faint scent of dew and pine. Mist clung low to the training grounds, soft and silver, drifting lazily around the towering Dorgons. The world was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the rhythmic thud of feet approaching from the village below.
One by one, the young trainees appeared—YunKai Tao, Ye Chen, Chen Li, Luo Tang, and the rest—each carrying the same expression of determination. Sleep still lingered in their eyes, but excitement burned beneath it. They gathered before the central field, where the elders were already waiting, silhouettes framed by the rising sun.
Tong Chen stepped forward first, his arms folded behind his back. His voice cut through the morning chill.
"From today onward, your days will follow the rhythm of the sun. Your body will move with the hours, your mind with the light, and your spirit with the wind. Each hour will test a part of you—mind, body, balance, endurance, and unity. Together, these will shape you."
The children straightened. The words were simple, but something in his tone made them feel heavier—like a vow being carved into the morning air.
Yan Zhi Lan's soft voice followed, "Each day begins with stillness. No matter how strong your body becomes, a restless mind will betray it. Follow me."
Morning: Meditation and Breath
The clearing beneath the eastern trees glowed faintly gold as the sun rose higher. Mist drifted between the trunks as Yan Zhi Lan led the group into the small Focus Circle, where the ground was lined with smooth stones and aromatic herbs.
"Sit," she said. "This is where your strength begins."
They lowered themselves onto the cool ground. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of damp earth and mint. The only sounds were birdsong and the occasional sigh of wind through leaves.
"Close your eyes," Yan Zhi Lan continued. "Listen. Do not think of the training ahead. Feel the world breathe."
Her voice moved like water—soft, measured, constant. The children inhaled deeply, their breath misting in the air, exhaling all the noise and tension that clung to them. Slowly, the world grew still. Every sound sharpened—the beating of their hearts, the crackle of twigs, even the faint buzz of insects nearby.
"Each breath," she whispered, "is a strike before it happens. Calm your mind, and you will see faster. Breathe deeply, and your strikes will carry purpose. The morning is the best time to master your mind, for it is when the world itself awakens."
Minutes stretched into an hour. When the children finally opened their eyes, they felt different—centered, aware, and strangely light. Even Luo Tang, who usually couldn't sit still for more than a minute, looked quietly thoughtful.
Yan Zhi Lan nodded once. "Now," she said softly, "you may move."
Late Morning: Strength and Endurance
By the time the mist burned away, the sun had risen fully. The air warmed, and Liang Shan was already waiting in the Strength Yard, arms crossed, his wide grin unmistakable.
"Good!" he barked as they approached. "Now that your minds are calm, let's see if your bodies can follow!"
The field was filled with ropes, stone weights, and wooden logs lined in rows. The scent of sweat and resin filled the air. Liang Shan slammed his palm against one of the logs. "Strength isn't about muscle. It's about control. You'll learn to lift, carry, and balance weight without wasting a single drop of effort."
They began with carrying logs across the yard, moving in pairs at first. The wood was rough and heavy, biting into their shoulders. Each step sank into the sand, leaving deep marks. Their breath came harder, louder.
"Lower your stance!" Liang Shan shouted. "Control the weight, don't fight it! Let the earth carry half!"
Chen Li adjusted his footing, feeling the difference instantly. Ye Chen followed, copying his stance. They moved more smoothly now, no longer battling the weight but guiding it.
After the logs came stone lifts, then rope climbs. Liang Shan's booming laughter echoed as they stumbled, grunted, and cursed under their breath. "You'll thank me tomorrow," he said cheerfully, hauling a rope one-handed to show how it was done.
By the time he finally called a halt, the sun was high, and their arms trembled from exhaustion. Still, each one smiled through their fatigue.
"Good," Liang Shan said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Morning belongs to the mind, but late morning—this—is for the body. Remember, the earth gives strength to those who earn it."
Afternoon: Balance and Focus
After a quick meal beneath the shade, the group moved to the Balance Arena, where Xiao Ling awaited. The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, dappling the wooden beams, narrow ridges, and rope bridges with gold and shadow.
"The heat of the day tests your patience," Xiao Ling said calmly. "Now that your body is tired, you will learn to find stillness in movement."
She stepped lightly onto one of the narrow beams, her feet silent, her body steady as water. The wind brushed her robe, but she moved like a feather floating downstream. When she reached the end, she turned to face them.
"The world will always move beneath you. Balance is not about stillness—it's about motion within calm."
The trainees stepped up one by one. The first few attempts ended quickly in laughter and slips. Luo Tang nearly fell off three times before finding his rhythm, arms spread wide. Ye Chen moved slower, cautious but focused. Chen Li managed to cross the longest beam without falling once.
"Good," Xiao Ling said quietly. "Feel your heartbeat. Hear your steps. Don't rush. Balance is not just for your feet—it's for your thoughts."
As the sun shifted westward, she made them repeat the exercises blindfolded. Some grumbled, others laughed, but by the end, even the clumsiest among them could cross half the beam before stumbling.
When they rested at last, she said, "Afternoon belongs to balance, because that's when fatigue tempts chaos. A warrior must walk straightest when he's most tired."
Evening: Endurance, Unity, and the Water Task
As the sun lowered toward the hills, the sky turning to fire and gold, Tong Chen gathered them once more before the twelve great Dorgons. Shadows stretched long across the ground. The air cooled, carrying the scent of river water far below.
He stood tall before them. "The final test of each day—discipline. You will fill the tanks before sunset. This is not punishment. It is patience, unity, and purpose."
Buckets waited beside each Dorgon. The children groaned quietly, already knowing what it meant: another thousand-step climb to the river and back.
Tong Chen's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you think mastery comes without labor? Go."
They descended together, their laughter and grumbles echoing down the hill. The river sparkled in the orange light, and they dipped their buckets into its cool current. The first climb back was easy—then the weight began to tell. Shoulders burned. Hands slipped. Breath came ragged.
Ye Chen stumbled halfway up, and Chen Li wordlessly took his bucket, carrying both. Luo Tang reached out to steady him. They didn't speak, but the meaning was clear: no one finishes alone.
By the time they reached the top, their clothes clung with sweat and their muscles quivered. The water sloshed as they poured it into the tanks, glinting gold in the fading light.
When the last bucket emptied, Tong Chen's deep voice filled the stillness.
"This is why evening belongs to endurance. The body weakens, but your will must not. Even when strength fails, unity carries you forward."
Yan Zhi Lan smiled faintly. "Morning clears the mind. Noon hardens the body. Afternoon steadies your balance. Evening tests your heart. This is the way of the Iron Path."
Liang Shan laughed, clapping his hands. "And if you survive the first week, you might even start enjoying it!"
The children collapsed in the grass, laughing breathlessly. Their faces shone in the last traces of sunlight, and the Dorgons behind them shimmered with reflected fire.
iao Ling's gentle voice drifted through the cooling air. "Like water, you must flow—strong enough to shape stone, gentle enough to mirror the sky. Remember this each day."
The stars began to appear as they made their way down to the village once more, their bodies aching but their spirits light. The rhythm of their days had begun—not a routine of pain, but a path of transformation.
Before the children could leave the grounds, Xiao Ling stepped forward again, her calm presence bringing quiet to the group. In her hands, she carried a wooden tray lined with twenty small bottles, each sealed with a waxed leaf and faintly glowing under the moonlight.
"This," she said softly, "is the Essence of Blue Lotus and Ironroot. A blend of herbs, minerals, and mountain spring water prepared by the elders. You will drink it every evening after training."
The children leaned closer, curiosity lighting their tired eyes. The bottles were cool to the touch, their contents shimmering faintly between hues of silver and pale green. When uncorked, the scent was sharp yet soothing — a mix of earth, mint, and faint sweetness, like rain after a storm.
Xiao Ling continued, "It will not remove your pain. Pain is your teacher. But it will steady your breath, strengthen your blood, and guide your energy back to the muscles and bones that have worked today. Think of it as the river that cools the forge — not to weaken the fire, but to temper the steel."
Tong Chen nodded approvingly from the side. "Your bodies are still growing. This essence will help balance the strain from training. But remember—its strength follows your will. Drink without focus, and it's wasted. Drink with intent, and it becomes part of you."
The children took their bottles with both hands, bowing slightly before drinking.
The first sip surprised them — the liquid was cool at first, then spread like a slow wave of warmth through the chest and limbs. The bitterness of Ironroot touched the tongue, followed by the soft sweetness of Blue Lotus. A faint tingle ran along their muscles, easing the ache that had begun to tighten after hours of training.
Luo Tang blinked and exhaled. "It feels… warm. Like fire and ice together."
Ye Chen laughed softly. "More like drinking lightning. My arms are buzzing."
Xiao Ling smiled faintly. "That is the flow of energy within you. Do not resist it. Sit, breathe, and let it settle."
The elders guided them to the Meditation Circle, a ring of smooth stones beneath the tall oak trees where the night wind whispered softly through the leaves. One by one, the children sat cross-legged, bottles resting beside them, eyes closing as the elders instructed them to breathe deeply.
Yan Zhi Lan's calm voice carried through the circle. "Let the breath find its rhythm. Feel it rise from your chest, travel through your spine, and return to the earth. Pain becomes strength when it flows."
The world seemed to quiet around them. The chirping of insects softened; even the rustling leaves slowed to a whisper. For thirty minutes, the young trainees sat in stillness, guided only by the rhythm of their breathing and the soft warmth flowing through their veins.
As they meditated, something remarkable happened — the dull ache in their limbs eased, their tired hearts steadied, and the chaos of exhaustion gave way to calm focus. The essence seemed to awaken a subtle awareness — they could feel their pulse, the weight of their breath, the way the air pressed gently against their skin.
When the meditation ended, the air felt lighter. The moon had risen higher, spilling soft silver light across the training grounds. The elders watched quietly, pride flickering in their eyes.
Liang Shan broke the silence with his familiar booming voice. "Good. You've learned your first recovery lesson. Strength is not just built through movement — it's built through stillness. Remember that well."
Tong Chen crossed his arms, nodding. "Tomorrow, your training will continue. But for tonight, rest your minds. Let your bodies remember this feeling."
The children slowly rose, blinking as if waking from a dream. Their exhaustion had not vanished, but it no longer weighed them down — it had transformed into something lighter, more bearable, like a companion rather than a burden.
Ye Chen flexed his fingers in wonder. "It doesn't hurt anymore… well, not as much."
Chen Li smirked. "Wait until tomorrow morning."
Luo Tang laughed softly. "If it hurts, it means we're getting stronger, right?"
Yan Hao nodded with quiet confidence. "That's what Liang Shan said."
As the group began descending the hill, the elders stood together at the edge of the grounds, watching their silhouettes disappear down the moonlit path. Xiao Ling's eyes softened as she whispered, "They're learning faster than we did."
Yan Zhi Lan smiled faintly. "Every generation carries the fire differently. Ours burned in struggle; theirs burns in hope."
Tong Chen grunted, a rare smile touching his lips. "Let's just make sure they can keep that fire alive."
Liang Shan laughed. "Don't worry. Tomorrow, they'll meet the river task. That'll keep their fire burning plenty hot."
The children, unaware of the next challenge waiting for them, walked in quiet joy.
As they reached the village gates, lanterns flickered in the windows, and the smell of warm food drifted through the night air. Their laughter and chatter carried softly down the path.
Ye Chen sighed contentedly. "That drink… I could get used to that."
Wu Chen nudged him. "Don't. You'll just want more when it's gone."
YunKai Tao smiled as he looked back one last time at the glowing training grounds above. The Dorgons stood tall, and the oak trees seemed to shimmer faintly in the moonlight.
"It feels different now," he murmured. "Like the ground itself is watching us."
Chen Li shrugged, smiling. "Then we'd better not disappoint it."
They laughed quietly as they disappeared into the glow of the village lights.
And above them, under the watchful gaze of the elders and the silent stars, the Iron Path waited — patient, enduring, and ready for the next dawn.