Silence settled between them, heavy and vibrant like a drawn bowstring. The woman didn't move, but her entire body screamed of imminent attack. Li Jin felt the Breath of the World around her, but it was different. Cold. Sharp. It was the breath of a blade just before it strikes.
She's waiting for you to move first, the Tiger analyzed in his mind. The voice had become a strategic partner, stripped of all parasitic emotion. She will read your intent and counter. To beat her, you need no intent. You need instinct. My instinct.
Li Jin knew the beast was right. His techniques of redirection and flow worked against predictable opponents, those driven by anger or ego. This woman was a void. There was nothing to redirect. She was water turned to ice.
He made a decision. It would not be a surrender, but an alliance. A controlled one.
Alright, he thought toward the Tiger. Your speed. Your ferocity. But my control. No killing. Understood?
He felt a wave of satisfaction from the beast. A tacit agreement.
He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. When he opened them again, something had changed. His pupils seemed slightly more dilated. The mark on his chest grew warm, not an uncontrollable burn, but a focused heat, like a forge ready for use. He let the door open, but only a crack.
The woman felt it. She saw the subtle shift in his posture, the aura changing from that of a calm stream to a coiled predator. She attacked.
She didn't charge. She vanished. One moment she was there, the next she was on him, her twin blades carving silver arcs at his throat and heart. Her speed was inhuman.
To an outside observer, the scene would have been an incomprehensible blur. But for Li Jin, time seemed to slow. The Tiger's Breath sharpened his senses, turning the world into a tapestry of clear, precise movements.
He didn't retreat. He exploded.
His right hand shot out, not to block, but to strike. His fingers, held straight and hard as iron, intercepted the blade aimed at his throat. Not the edge, but the flat of the weapon. A sharp crack echoed. The shock traveled up the assassin's arm, surprising her with its violence.
Simultaneously, his other hand dropped and deflected the second blade aimed at his heart. He used an open palm, redirecting it toward the ground. The tip of the blade buried itself in the earth an inch from his foot.
It all happened in a single heartbeat.
The woman was a professional. She didn't lose her composure. She used the momentum of her blocked blades to pivot, disengaging and creating distance. She landed lightly several meters away, her cold eyes analyzing what had just happened.
She had expected fluidity. She had met explosive ferocity, a speed that rivaled her own.
Li Jin didn't give her time to think. He was already on her. He didn't use the Silent River Step. He used the Tiger's Pounce. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground. He closed the distance in a single bound, his hand shaped into a claw aimed at the woman's face.
She parried with her crossed blades. The impact was brutal. She felt her arms vibrate to the shoulder. The boy's strength was completely out of proportion to his frame.
The fight became a deadly dance. A blur of motion, parries, and evasions. Li Jin used no formal techniques from the school. He moved with pure instinct, a predator's efficiency. Every blow was an attempt to neutralize, not to kill. He aimed for joints, pressure points, the weapons themselves.
The woman, however, aimed for vital points. Every slash of her blades was meant to be the last.
The fight carried them away from the house, into a small clearing bordered by trees. Li Jin was deliberately drawing her away from his parents.
He could feel the beast within him, exulting. It reveled in the speed, the danger, the purity of combat. But he held the reins. Tightly. When instinct screamed at him to shatter his opponent's wrist, he merely disarmed. When rage suggested he crush her throat, he simply pushed her back.
It was a battle on two fronts. One against the silent assassin before him. The other against the hungry predator within.
The woman realized a direct confrontation was to her disadvantage. She changed tactics. She became elusive, using the trees to vanish and reappear, launching surprise attacks from the shadows.
Li Jin stopped in the center of the clearing. He closed his eyes.
Fool! the Tiger roared. She'll cut your throat! Open your eyes!
Li Jin ignored it. He couldn't follow her movements with his eyes. He had to feel her. He expanded his awareness, connecting with the World-Breath of the clearing. He became the trees, the grass, the wind between the leaves. He was no longer looking for a shape. He was listening for a disturbance in the flow.
He felt it. A ripple in the silence. Behind him. To his right.
He didn't turn. He didn't look. The moment she sprang from the shadows, her blade aimed for his back, Li Jin took one step to the side. A calm, precise, almost casual step.
The woman's blade cut empty air. Her momentum carried her forward, leaving her exposed for a precious second.
Li Jin pivoted. He didn't use a claw. He didn't use force. He used an open palm. The Eight Trigrams Palm. A technique of pure redirection.
He placed his palm between her shoulder blades. He didn't strike her. He pushed. But the push was loaded with all the kinetic energy of the assassin's own attack, turned back against her.
The woman was thrown forward as if struck by a battering ram. She flew across the clearing and slammed hard into the trunk of a large oak tree. The sound was a dull, heavy thud. Her blades flew from her grasp. She slid to the ground, stunned.
Li Jin approached slowly, the Tiger's heat receding from his body, leaving him panting and trembling from the adrenaline dump.
The woman sat slumped against the tree. Her veil had been torn away, revealing her face. She was young, barely older than Li Jin. A thin scar ran from her eyebrow to her cheekbone, giving her a look that was both fierce and vulnerable. She was looking at him, not with hatred, but with profound astonishment.
"You used two styles," she said, her voice for the first time touched by an emotion. Confusion. "One is of a wild beast. The other... the other is of a Daoist master. How?"
Li Jin didn't answer. He picked up one of her blades. He held it by the edge and offered her the hilt. The same gesture he had made to the mercenary.
She looked at him, then at the blade. She didn't take it. "Why? Why didn't you kill me? I came to kill you."
"Killing solves nothing," Li Jin said. "It only plants the seeds for future vengeance." He thought of Xiao Lie.
He dropped the blade beside her. "Lord Xiao hired the wrong person for this job. He wanted a murder. He sent a warrior who respects strength. You know I could have killed you. And you know I chose not to. That message is more powerful than my death ever would have been."
He turned to leave.
"Wait," she said. "What is your name?"
"Li Jin."
She was silent for a moment. "My name is Lin Mei."
An unspoken understanding passed between them. A mutual recognition.
"Tell your master the debt is paid," Li Jin said over his shoulder. "I didn't kill her. He failed to kill me. We are even. Any further aggression from him will break that balance."
He left her there and walked back to his home. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft colors.
When he arrived, his parents were waiting outside, their faces pale with worry. They hadn't seen anything, but they had heard the sounds of the fight.
"It's over," he said simply. "Everything is alright."
That night, he meditated. The Tiger was quiet. It was not satisfied, for it had not tasted blood. But it was not frustrated. It had been used. It had fought. The tense alliance had worked.
Li Jin understood something fundamental. He could never be rid of the Tiger. He could never fully master it. But perhaps he could learn to dance with it. Sometimes, he would be the rock. Sometimes, he would be the water. And sometimes, when there was no other choice, he had to let the storm rage, while he held firmly to the helm.
He was not a monster. He was not a saint. He was a warden. The warden of two tigers fighting in his heart: one of fury, and one of compassion. His entire life would be an attempt to keep the balance between them.
The next day, he told his parents he had to leave again.
"But you've only just returned," his mother said, tears in her eyes.
"My fight here is over," he answered gently. "But the world's fight is just beginning. Men like Lord Xiao should not have the power to terrorize people. I can't hide in a village or on a mountain and let that happen."
His father placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand. Your path is wider than our fields. Go. And never forget who you are."
As he walked away from his village, he did not look back. He was heading south, toward the capital. Not to hide, but to confront the source of the poison. He didn't know what he would do, or how. He only knew he could no longer remain passive.
He was Li Jin, disciple of the School of the Jade Tiger. And his true trial had just begun.