The wind carried the crisp scent of pine as Feiyin stepped onto the training grounds, his breath steady, his mind focused. Today felt different. There was a lightness in his limbs, a strength in his core that hadn’t been there before. For the past three months, he had pushed his body and internal strength to their limits, tempering every part of himself inside and out. His progress had been slower than others, but today, something told him that the effort had not been in vain.


    The militia members were already gathered, their voices carrying over the morning air. Jiang Hu, as usual, was the loudest, arguing with Sun Ke over some trivial matter. Zhao Wei stood with his arms crossed, nodding occasionally, while Lao Min groaned about how much he disliked running drills.


    Feiyin took his place among them, rolling his shoulders as he prepared for the day’s training. It started as usual—footwork drills, evasive movements, strength conditioning. But when they moved into paired combat practice, that’s when he felt it.


    Sun Ke lunged at him, his movements sharp, refined. Feiyin twisted his body instinctively, redirecting the force of the attack, countering with a controlled burst of internal strength. The air seemed to hum around him, his body moving in perfect synchronization with his will.


    Sun Ke barely managed to block, his feet skidding slightly in the dirt. For a moment, his face was frozen in surprise. Then, he let out a short, incredulous laugh.


    “…What the hell?”


    The group had been engaged in their own sparring matches, but at Sun Ke’s reaction, all eyes turned to them.


    Feiyin blinked. “What?”


    Jiang Hu strode over, grabbing Feiyin’s wrist, feeling the tension in his muscles, then letting go with a grunt. “Do that again.”


    Feiyin hesitated, then moved through the motions once more. He could feel it now—the power surging through him, the sheer weight of his own internal strength responding to his movements.


    Jiang Hu let out a sharp exhale, then barked a laugh. “Hah! This little brat just hit 1000 kilograms of strength, didn’t he?”


    A brief silence followed. Then—


    “Wait, seriously?” Sun Ke’s voice cracked as he looked at Feiyin like he had grown a second head.


    Zhao Wei, always the quiet observer, narrowed his eyes. “That’s… No wonder his movements feel heavier.”


    The realization rippled through the group, and soon, the militia was in an uproar.


    “He’s just a kid!”


    “How the hell did he reach that already?”


    “This brat’s outpacing grown men now?!”


    Feiyin’s face flushed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment as Jiang Hu clapped a heavy hand on his back, nearly knocking the breath out of him.


    “You little monster. You’ve been training quietly, and now you pull this on us?”


    Feiyin grinned, his heart swelling with joy. He hadn’t been sure before, but now, hearing it from them, feeling their reactions—this was proof that his effort had been worth it.


    He wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest rising with excitement. He had trained slower than the others, focusing on both his inner and outer foundation, but now he could see that his patience had paid off.


    Jiang Hu ruffled his hair. “Alright, alright, don’t get too full of yourself. Keep training, and maybe in a few years, you’ll actually be able to spar with me properly.”


    Feiyin scoffed. “You mean in a few months?”


    The group roared with laughter, and Feiyin couldn’t help but laugh along with them.


    That night, after dinner, Feiyin sat cross-legged in the quiet of their home, his heart still buzzing from the day’s events. He had reached 1000 kg of internal strength. He had proof that his body could withstand immense force. That meant…


    He was ready.


    He had spent months refining his inner strength, understanding how it resonated, how it flowed through him like a song intertwined with the world’s oscillations. But up until now, it had remained just that—a resonance, an understanding.


    Now, he wanted to take it further.


    He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, reaching inward.


    The elements all had their own rhythm. He had felt them in the trees, in the wind, in the water. But fire—it was the one he had yet to truly grasp.


    He thought back to the flames in the village, to the merchants cooking over their stoves, to the flickering torches lighting the training grounds. The oscillation of fire was lively, wild, always shifting, but there was an unmistakable harmony to it, a rhythm within the chaos.


    He steadied his breathing. Slowly, carefully, he began to adjust the oscillation of his inner strength to match the pulse of fire.


    At first, it was difficult. Fire’s rhythm was fickle, hard to grasp. It burned too fast, too bright, slipping away the moment he thought he had it. He furrowed his brows, concentrating harder.


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    Then—


    A spark.


    His heart stirred, a warmth blooming deep within his chest, filling him with a sense of power and exhilaration. His blood pumped stronger, each beat vibrating in harmony with the fire element. The air around him tasted sharper, richer, more alive.


    He had done it.


    He wanted to laugh, to celebrate—


    Then, suddenly, the warmth turned scalding.


    His heart lurched, the fire within him spreading outward uncontrollably, searing through his body like a wildfire consuming dry wood.


    Pain—blinding, unbearable pain.


    His breath hitched, his vision blurred. He tried to stop it, but the flames within his inner strength had taken root, spiraling beyond his control.


    Before he could cry out, a cool, steady hand pressed against his back.


    “Feiyin, stop. Right now.”


    His mother’s voice was sharp, firm, but laced with urgency.


    Through the haze of pain, he felt her inner strength flowing into him, calm yet powerful, wrapping around his erratic energy like a river cooling molten rock.


    With her guidance, he focused, forced his breathing to slow, and after what felt like an eternity, the burning sensation receded, leaving his body trembling.


    The silence that followed was heavy.


    Then—


    “…What were you thinking?”


    His father’s voice cut through the air like a blade.


    Feiyin’s throat tightened. He turned his head slightly to see his father standing at the doorway, his usual calm expression replaced by something… sharper. Concern. Frustration.


    “I—I almost had it,” Feiyin whispered.


    His mother exhaled slowly, rubbing her temple. “Almost had it? Feiyin, do you understand what could have happened if I wasn’t here?”


    His chest ached. He hadn’t meant to make them worry. He thought—he truly thought he had done it right.


    Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before he could stop them. “I thought I was ready,” he said, his voice cracking. “I—I just wanted to—”


    “To what?” Cai Feng stepped forward, kneeling to meet his gaze. “To rush ahead without fully understanding what you were doing?”


    Feiyin bit his lip.


    His father sighed, shaking his head. “You are gifted, Feiyin. But that doesn’t mean you can skip steps. Mastery comes from patience, not from reckless leaps forward.”


    His mother placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’re not angry, Feiyin. We’re worried. You need to tell us before you try something like this again.”


    Feiyin sniffled, nodding as he wiped his face.


    Cai Feng studied him for a moment before his expression softened. “You did well in sensing the fire’s rhythm. That is already an achievement. But next time, you will not attempt something like this alone.”


    Feiyin nodded quickly, relief and exhaustion washing over him.


    Mei Liao smiled, ruffling his hair. “You’re growing, little one. Just… don’t burn yourself out.”


    A small, wobbly smile crept onto Feiyin’s lips. He wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.


    But next time, he’d be more careful.


    As the tension in the air settled, Feiyin let out a shaky breath, his body still trembling from the aftereffects of his reckless attempt. The warmth had completely left his limbs, leaving behind a dull ache in his chest and a strange emptiness where the fire had once burned. His mother’s hand was still on his back, gently rubbing slow circles, as if easing the last remnants of discomfort away.


    After a few moments of silence, Mei Liao stood up and walked over to a nearby shelf, her movements smooth and precise. She opened a small wooden box, taking out a porcelain vial filled with an earthy-scented liquid. Feiyin recognized the scent instantly—a mixture of medicinal herbs she had often used to help with his body tempering recovery.


    She poured a small amount into a cup and handed it to him. “Drink. This will help repair any internal strain and soothe your meridians.”


    Feiyin took the cup hesitantly, the scent strong but familiar. He had never particularly enjoyed the bitter taste, but right now, he wasn’t about to complain. He brought the cup to his lips, taking small sips before swallowing it all in one go.


    Immediately, a cooling sensation spread through his chest, like a soft stream washing away lingering embers. His breathing steadied, the ache in his limbs easing ever so slightly.


    His mother gave a small nod of approval. “Rest for tonight. No more experiments with your inner strength until your body fully recovers.”


    Feiyin nodded, still feeling the warmth of their concern despite the scolding. As he sat quietly, letting the medicine take effect, he silently made a promise to himself—to train smarter, to grow stronger, and to one day truly master the elements without losing control.