Moonlight filtered through the thin paper walls of Li Wei’s room in the servant quarters.
He sat cross-legged, his breathing steady and slow, each inhalation pulling qi deep into his core. For weeks he had followed the breathing technique Cycle of the Mortal Zodiac Wheel without fail, threading qi carefully into his body.
Tonight, something was different.
The flow of qi surged, eager, as if the lotus itself guided his movements. His meridians thrummed like taut strings, each cycle of breath tightening their strength.
A sudden rush filled his chest. His body trembled, and his dantian shone with radiant warmth. The lotus’s petals opened wide, releasing a tide of qi that coursed through him like fire and water entwined.
Li Wei clenched his teeth, sweat streaming down his temples. The pressure built, pressing against every corner of his being, then burst outward.
A low boom echoed within his body. The air around him stirred, rattling the oil lamp.
When the storm subsided, Li Wei opened his eyes. His gaze was clear, sharper than before. He clenched his fist, marveling at the strength in his veins.
“Flesh-Tempering, Third Stage…” he whispered, voice hushed with relief. At the same time, he noticed something strange. Another lotus petal was glowing.
Li Wei's brow furrowed. Nothing he had learned about the Heavenly Dao Lotus mentioned individual petals lighting up on their own. Then again, this lotus bore twelve petals instead of six. Perhaps it behaved differently due to being a variant? Still, the faint radiance of the two petals caused no change within his body. it seemed it was neither a detriment nor a blessing.
“Strange…” Li Wei murmured, his frown deepening. After a brief pause, he exhaled and pushed the thought aside, turning his focus elsewhere.
The trials are still three weeks away, he thought. He had reached the minimum threshold, if he wished to enter. But he would not, of course. The path of hidden power was not about bragging or showing off. It was about silent growth and accumulation.
Yet, cultivation realm alone was not enough…
Power still required skill.
During his evening ventures to the library’s forgotten corners where he pretended to be cleaning, Li Wei discovered a crude, dust-covered manual titled Iron Mountain Fist. Its pages were frayed, its diagrams crude stick figures. Most disciples overlooked it, chasing elegant sword arts or refined qi techniques.
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But Li Wei saw something different in its simplicity. Each movement was direct, overwhelming, designed to crush an opponent with raw force. What it lacked in finesse, it made up for in decisiveness.
But since he couldn’t take the manual, he memorised it as well as possible. Unlike Cycle of the Mortal Zodiac Wheel, which he'd needed Xian Lan to borrow for him due to its complexity, this technique was not nearly as complex.
Thus, by day, he mimicked the sluggish steps of a servant, sweeping floors and carrying water. And by night, he practiced the heavy footfalls and blunt strikes of Iron Mountain Fist in the forest outside the sect, each blow cracking against a worn wooden doll he’d stolen. His knuckles bled, his shoulders ached, but his strikes grew heavier, steadier.
One evening, after striking until his arms shook, Li Wei stood panting, blood dripping from his hand. He smiled faintly.
“Crude… but powerful. This suits me.”
***
Days later, Li Wei was sent to the outer ridges of the sect mountain to collect herbs.
Servant work was endless; carrying sacks of medicine roots was no exception.
The forest air was damp, filled with the calls of birds.
He had just filled his basket when a cry split the stillness.
“HELP!"
Li Wei froze. The voice was familiar. He dropped the basket and sprinted toward the sound.
Through the trees, he saw Xian Lan, cornered against a rock outcrop. A demonic beast loomed before him, a Five-Tailed Shadow Fox, its eyes glowing red. A Five-Tailed Shadow Fox was comparable to the fifth stage of Flesh Tempering, an absurdly strong animal.
Xian Lan held a wooden staff defensively, but his stance trembled. He swung desperately, barely keeping the beast at bay.
“Damn it… I can’t…”
The fox lunged, claws flashing.
Li Wei tied on his mask in a single motion and leapt forward. His fist crashed against the fox’s side, sending it skidding across the ground.
Xian Lan gasped. “You—!”
The fox snarled, its five tails lashing as it pounced again. Li Wei stepped forward calmly, qi surging into his fists. He struck with Iron Mountain Fist, each blow thunderous, forcing the beast back.
The fox’s speed was frightening, but Li Wei’s control was tight. He feinted low, then slammed a fist into its chest. Bones cracked. The beast howled and fled into the underbrush, tails thrashing.
Xian Lan collapsed to the ground, chest heaving. He looked up at the masked figure, eyes wide. “You… saved me.”
Beneath his mask, Li Wei smiled, then turned to leave.
“Wait!” Xian Lan called, scrambling to his feet. “Who are you?”
Li Wei paused, back to his friend. “Names are unimportant,” he said, keeping his tone low. “Protecting the weak is reason enough.”
Then he vanished into the trees.
Xian Lan stood there long after he was gone, heart pounding. He clenched his fists, whispering, “The Buddha Mask Disciple… he’s not just strong. He’s righteous. Whoever he is, I will never forget this.”
Back in his quarters, Li Wei removed the mask, staring at it in his hands. Xian Lan’s look of admiration replayed in his mind, leaving a bitter taste.
Brother Lan… if only you knew.
Meanwhile, back in Zhao Feng’s courtyard, his gaze darkened when he learned the vigilante had saved a disciple by defeating a demonic beast.
Demonic beasts were quite powerful, and without luck, one needed at least reach the Third stage of Flesh Tempering to defeat the weakest ones. He suddenly paused and wondered—what was the vigilante doing in the forest at that time, to have conveniently heard Xian Lan’s call for help?
Generally, only servants picking medical herbs would be there at that time. His eyes narrowed, his suspicion growing, cementing…

