The afternoon training began like all the others.
Disciples assembled in the yard. Instructors called positions. The formation settled into horse stance.
Li Ren took his place and dropped into position, breathing carefully regulated.
Not too perfect.
Not too rough.
Somewhere in between, where ordinary disciples struggled but did not fail completely.
The cold bit into his legs. His muscles burned from the morning session. Around him, others trembled visibly, their exhaustion written in every unsteady breath.
Li Ren focused on maintaining the appearance of struggle while keeping his foundation stable.
It was harder than it looked.
The natural rhythm wanted to smooth itself. His breathing wanted to deepen, to stabilize, to find that state of clarity where pain became distant.
He had to actively resist it.
Minutes passed.
The instructors moved through the rows, correcting stances, shouting at disciples whose form had degraded.
Li Ren kept his head lowered, eyes forward, breathing deliberately imperfect.
Then a staff tapped the stone beside him.
Once.
Precise.
Li Ren's heart jumped.
He did not look up.
"You," a voice said. Calm. Measured. "Follow."
Instructor Qian.
Li Ren straightened and followed without question.
Behind him, he felt the other disciples' attention. Brief, furtive glances quickly suppressed. No one wanted to be seen watching when an instructor singled someone out.
They walked in silence.
Past the outer storage sheds.
Past the water barrels.
Toward a section of the sect Li Ren had never entered.
The buildings here were older. Their stone was darkened by centuries of weather, the edges worn smooth by wind and time.
Instructor Qian stopped before a narrow door.
He did not speak.
He simply opened it and gestured inside.
Li Ren stepped through.
The room beyond was small and bare. A single oil lamp burned in one corner, its flame steady and smokeless. The walls were plain stone, unmarked by decoration or writing.
In the center of the room sat a low stone table.
On the table rested two objects.
A bowl of water.
A smooth river stone.
Nothing else.
Instructor Qian closed the door behind them.
The sound echoed faintly in the enclosed space.
"Sit," the instructor said.
Li Ren knelt on the cold stone floor, keeping his back straight, hands resting on his thighs.
Instructor Qian circled the table once, studying him from different angles.
His footsteps were silent.
When he finally spoke, his voice was neither harsh nor kind.
Simply factual.
"You have been practicing something."
It was not a question.
Li Ren kept his eyes lowered.
Every instinct screamed at him to deny it.
But Zhou Han's words echoed in his mind.
You're developing something. The question is whether you know it yet.
If he had already been noticed, denial would only make things worse.
"I follow the breathing methods taught by the sect," Li Ren said carefully.
"True," Instructor Qian replied. "But incomplete."
He stopped moving, standing directly in front of Li Ren.
"You have touched something. Briefly. Without understanding what it was."
Silence stretched.
Li Ren made a decision.
"Yes, Instructor."
The admission hung in the air.
For a long moment, Instructor Qian said nothing.
Then he nodded once, as if Li Ren had passed some invisible test.
"Good. Honesty is useful."
He moved to the side of the table, one hand resting lightly on its surface.
"What you felt is called Initial Sensing. It is the first sign that a disciple's foundation is stabilizing enough to perceive the flow of vital energy."
Li Ren's attention sharpened.
Finally, a name for what he had experienced.
Initial Sensing.
Instructor Qian continued, his tone unchanged.
"Most disciples never reach it. They train for years, build physical strength, follow the breathing methods exactly as taught. But their awareness remains ordinary. They cannot sense the flow. They cannot perceive the patterns."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"These disciples are filtered out long before they would burden the sect with resources."
Li Ren's throat felt dry.
"Filtered out?"
"Sold to smaller sects as laborers. Sent to guard caravans. Reassigned to mining operations or construction crews." The instructor's tone remained perfectly neutral, as if discussing crop rotation rather than human lives. "The sect invests in potential. Those without it are redirected to where they can still provide value."
So that was the mechanism.
Not death, though death would come easily enough in those other roles.
Disposal.
Efficient.
Inevitable.
"You, however," Instructor Qian said, "have demonstrated Initial Sensing."
He gestured to the bowl on the table.
"Now we determine if it was an accident or genuine progress."
Li Ren stared at the water.
The stone rested at the bottom, perfectly still.
"What do I need to do?" he asked.
Instructor Qian's expression remained unchanged.
"The stone rests at the bottom of the bowl. Without touching the water, cause the stone to move."
Li Ren looked up sharply.
"I don't know how to do that."
"If you understood how, this would not be a test." The instructor moved to the corner of the room. "You have one hour. Either you discover the method, or you demonstrate that your sensing was meaningless."
He sat down, back straight, hands folded in his lap.
Watching.
Waiting.
Li Ren turned his attention back to the bowl.
The water was perfectly still.
The stone sat at the bottom, smooth and gray, utterly mundane.
Move it without touching the water.
Impossible.
Unless.
Li Ren closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
The rhythm settled.
His awareness began to expand.
And for the first time, he deliberately reached for that state of clarity instead of waiting for it to arrive on its own.