Morning broke over Ken City, sweeping away the remnants of the night's darkness. Golden sunlight slowly seeped through the gaps in wooden walls and rooftops, casting warm streaks of light across the earthen floor. The pulse of life began once more—merchants opened their stalls, wooden carts creaked along the stone-paved streets, and the aroma of simple cooking drifted through the air.
Next door to Feng's rickety house, Aunt Kin and her husband had already begun their morning routine. Aunt Kin deftly gathered firewood for cooking, while her husband—a muscular, taciturn man—busied himself chopping large logs with a steadily swinging axe. Life in this shabby corner of the city moved to the same rhythm, day after day.
Inside Feng's house, Lean remained in the same position as the night before—sitting calmly on a simple wooden bench near the dining table, her eyes closed, as if immersed in her own contemplation. A serene yet authoritative aura emanated from her, making the cramped space feel subtly different.
Feng opened his eyes, his body aching after sleeping on the hard mattress. His gaze immediately fell upon the woman across the room. For a brief moment, he was startled, as if he had forgotten that Lean's presence was not a dream. He quickly got up and greeted her respectfully.
"Good morning, Master."
Lean opened her eyes briefly, gave a short nod in response, then closed them again. That was enough for Feng.
He began his morning routine. Today was his day off—not because he had taken leave, but because his work schedule only ran six days a week. This single day was his chance to breathe, and now it would be filled with something far more meaningful. He gathered the remaining firewood, lit a fire in the clay stove, and once again cooked simple wheat porridge for breakfast. The ritual felt different this morning; a new purpose infused every movement.
After the porridge was ready, he poured it into two identical clay bowls—one for Lean and one for himself. As they ate, Lean began to speak, her voice calm yet clear.
"Do you know what a Practitioner truly is?" she asked, spooning her food with elegant movements.
"Someone who can fly through the sky and split mountains!" Feng replied enthusiastically, repeating the heroic image he had always imagined.
"That's only half correct," Lean said, shaking her head slightly. "That is merely a manifestation of power. At its core, a Practitioner is someone who builds their body's foundation to absorb Essence, then refine and control it within themselves."
Feng listened intently, like a sponge soaking up every drop of knowledge. His eyes shone brightly.
"Before taking that step, the body must first be strengthened. It must become a vessel strong enough to bear this pure energy—otherwise, it would be torn apart by it," Lean continued, explaining the most fundamental principle.
"Master, what exactly is Essence?" Feng asked, his curiosity surging.
"Essence is the pure essence that sustains this world. It is the breath of heaven and earth, a primordial energy that exists everywhere—in the air, in the soil, in the flames of fire, and even within every living being," Lean replied. Her voice carried a near-reverent tone. "Practitioners have many stages. The first and most basic is Body Tempering—tempering the body to the limits of human capability so it can withstand the flow of Essence. This is the first step you must take. After eating, prepare yourself."
"Yes, Master!" Feng answered respectfully, his enthusiasm impossible to contain.
After cleaning up, Feng and Lean left the house. As they passed by, they were spotted by Aunt Kin, who was leaning against a tree with her husband, enjoying a cup of warm tea. She narrowed her eyes at the beautiful stranger beside Feng and teased in an amused whisper, "Well, Feng… looks like you've found yourself a pretty woman, huh?"
Feng immediately panicked, his face pale. "N-No, Auntie! It's not like that!" he protested nervously. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sharp glint in Lean's gaze. Deciding not to pursue the conversation, he quickened his pace and hurried away, leaving Aunt Kin smiling to herself.
They walked out of the city toward the forest at the foot of the mountain. After about an hour on foot, they reached a quieter part of the forest near a towering rocky cliff. The sounds of nature dominated here—birds chirping and the wind rustling through leaves formed a soothing symphony.
"The first training," Lean said, suddenly appearing atop a flat rock, sitting cross-legged. "Run around the perimeter of this forest. Four full laps."
"Around the forest? Four laps?!" Feng's face turned pale. The forest was vast; even a single lap usually left him exhausted when he went herb gathering.
"Do you not want to?" Lean asked, her tone suddenly flat and cold, carrying a subtle threat.
Feng immediately bowed. "Of course I do, Master! I'll start right away!" He took off running, beginning his first lap with energetic strides. When he glanced back, he saw Lean already lying comfortably beneath a massive, shady tree, as if preparing for a midday rest.
"Hah… this forest is huge. Can I really do it?" he panted inwardly as his legs began to feel heavy halfway through the first lap. His breathing was already ragged. But then his resolve hardened. "No, Feng! You have to be strong! This is to change your fate!" He bit his lip and kept running, ignoring the pain blooming in his calves and lungs.
Meanwhile, beneath the tree, Lean smiled faintly at Feng's determination. But the smile quickly faded. Her eyes turned toward the blue sky glimpsed through the leaves, her thoughts drifting elsewhere. Is it wise to teach him in such an open place? I hope they don't discover my presence here…
Three hours later, his clothes soaked with sweat and his breathing choppy like a broken bellows, Feng finally completed his fourth lap. He collapsed onto the ground, sprawled out like a stranded fish. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony. The sun was already high overhead, blazing hot.
"This is only the beginning," Lean said, suddenly standing beside him, her expression unreadable. "Here, drink." With a subtle flick of her finger, a leather water flask hanging at her waist detached itself and floated toward Feng.
"Th-Thank you… Master," Feng gasped, gulping the water greedily.
Am I being too soft on him? Lean thought, recalling her own training, which had been far more brutal. But back then, I had the best resources—medicinal baths, spiritual meat. This child survives on wheat porridge alone… Perhaps this is enough for a start.
"That's enough rest," Lean said after a few minutes. "Now, lift that stone." She pointed to a massive boulder by the cliff—five times Feng's size, solid and weighing perhaps hundreds of kilograms.
"M-Master?" Feng stared at the stone, then at Lean, disbelief written all over his face.
"Hm?" Lean's tone turned cold again, challenging.
Feng approached the giant rock. He pushed, tried to lift it, tried to shake it—but it didn't move an inch. An hour passed. He strained with every bit of strength he had left, his face flushed red, veins bulging in his neck, his hands reddened and starting to blister. The lifeless stone remained unmoved. His efforts were futile.
After what felt like an eternity—
"That's enough for today," Lean finally said, stopping him. Feng's hands trembled, his palms blistered. "Sit here. Take a meditation posture."
Feng obeyed, sitting cross-legged on the ground despite his body screaming in protest.
"Can you 'see' or feel Essence?" Lean asked.
"No, Master," Feng answered honestly, feeling a touch of failure.
"Calm your mind. Relax your body, but keep your posture upright," Lean instructed, her voice growing gentler, guiding him. "Before absorbing Essence, you must first sense its presence. Feel the air around you, the earth beneath you, the warmth of the sun. Essence exists within all of that. When your foundation—your body—is strong enough, only then can you draw it in. For now, try simply to 'be aware' of it."
Feng closed his eyes, trying to follow her guidance. He felt the breeze on his skin, heard the rustling leaves, sensed the grains of earth beneath him. But he felt no special presence called Essence—only exhaustion and sore muscles.
After a long while, Lean said, "That's enough. Don't worry. On the first day—even the first month—it usually won't work right away. We'll try again tomorrow. Go home."
"Yes, Master," Feng replied, a little disappointed but also relieved.
And so, the pattern of his days was formed. While working, Feng tried to squeeze in training—running faster while gathering herbs, lifting heavy stones during breaks, and meditating briefly before sleep. But work left him little time. His day off became the time devoted entirely to harsh training under Lean's supervision.
Days turned into weeks. The grueling training repeated endlessly—running, lifting, meditating. Failure to sense Essence, aching muscles, and blistered hands became his new companions. But Feng did not complain. Whenever he felt like giving up, he remembered the ravine, remembered Eva's words, remembered the miserable life he wanted to leave behind. That became his fuel.
And without realizing it, three months passed. The seasons began to shift, and the morning air grew colder. Feng's body, once thin and muscled only from manual labor, now showed clear changes. His frame grew denser, his muscles more defined, and his endurance increased dramatically. He could now complete the four laps much faster, and the stone that had once been immovable could finally be nudged, though not yet lifted. However, the door to sensing Essence remained tightly closed. That was the next challenge he would have to conquer on the long journey that had only just begun.