The sun beat down relentlessly on the small clearing where Lian Yi struggled with the guan dao. Its curved blade felt like it weighed a hundred stones after hours of practice. Sweat soaked through her clothes, plastering her hair to her forehead as her grip tightened around the long shaft.

Ahmad watched from a distance, slumped lazily against a tree, half a bottle of wine dangling from his fingers. His posture screamed indifference, but Lian Yi knew better by now.

"Don't get hung up on it," Ahmad mumbled, sounding more tired than stern. He took a swig of wine without looking at her. "It's a guan dao, not a walking stick."

Lian Yi adjusted her hands, taking deep breaths. It had been seven days since she had chosen the weapon, and in that time, Ahmad’s training had left her muscles screaming, her pride shattered, and her patience tested beyond reason.

Her father, Lian Wei, had always spoken in calm, measured tones when instructing her. Ahmad was the complete opposite. He offered no mercy, no carefully worded lessons, and certainly no encouragement.

It was like he didn’t care whether she succeeded or failed.

“Don’t hesitate!” Ahmad barked, lurching to his feet. He stumbled a few paces forward, waving the half-empty bottle around like a sword. “The moment you stop to think is the moment you’re dead. You should’ve swung that damn thing three times by now!”

Gritting her teeth, Lian Yi resumed her forms, the guan dao slicing through the air. Ahmad’s constant drunken slurring grated on her nerves. How was she supposed to learn from a man who couldn’t even stay sober for more than an hour?

She completed the final movement of the form, the blade sweeping down in a last arc. Ahmad clapped slowly, mockingly.

“Not bad, not bad,” he said, staggering closer. “But if you were in a fight, you’d be dead.”

Lian Yi’s grip tightened around the guan dao. She was drenched in sweat, her entire body trembling from exhaustion, yet Ahmad acted like it had all been child’s play.

"You think this is funny?" she snapped, unable to hold back her frustration any longer. "You’re barely paying attention, and you’re constantly drunk! How is this supposed to help me?"

Ahmad blinked at her, then grinned as if she had told a joke. "Sweet kid. You think I need to pay attention for you to get better?"

Before she could retort, he swayed forward and, with a surprising amount of grace, pulled the guan dao from her hands. She barely had time to blink before he spun it around, his movements clumsy and loose, until they weren’t. In a split second, the air surrounding them hummed, and the blade whistled through the air in a blur of motion.

He stopped, holding the guan dao out like it was nothing more than a twig, the blade hovering an inch from her throat.

Lian Yi stared at the blade, frozen. Ahmad’s grin remained, but his eyes, sharp and cold, burned with something far more dangerous than she had ever seen in him before.

"See? Paying attention’s overrated." He tossed the guan dao back to her, the blade sinking into the dirt between her feet. “And as for the drinking, well…” He took another swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can’t fix what’s broken in me, so I may as well drown it.”

Lian Yi took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. What had just happened? Ahmad’s movements had been so quick, so precise.

"You think this training is pointless, don’t you?" Ahmad asked, his voice quieter now. "That I’m wasting your time?"

Lian Yi didn’t answer, but her silence was enough of an answer.

Ahmad chuckled, leaning back against the tree, the fierce intensity that had flashed across his face moments ago dissipating as quickly as it had come. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes, a lazy grin forming beneath his scruffy beard.

"Kid, I’m not here to hold your hand," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "The world’s going to knock you down, again and again. No amount of perfect training is going to stop that. You want power? Then earn it. Stop waiting for someone to hand you a map. Life’s not fair, and neither is power."

Lian Yi’s fists clenched at her sides, her breath ragged from the day’s exertion. His words, laced with indifference, were like fuel to the fire that had been burning inside her since the day they met.

"You talk like carving your own path is easy!" she yelled, her voice cracking from frustration and exhaustion. "I've only been training with you for a week! You expect me to already have my own martial arts? How am I supposed to make something out of nothing?"

Ahmad didn’t flinch at her outburst. Instead, his grin widened, more amused than angry. He took a long swig from his jug, the wine trickling down the side of his mouth as he leaned back.

"And you talk like creating your own path is impossible," he shot back, his voice calm, almost mocking. "You walk on the same grass a thousand times, and you'll carve a path whether you meant to or not. Is it a good path? Who knows? Someone’s going to walk it, though. I’ve told you before, no martial art is perfect. So stop waiting for some grand answer."

He leaned forward, his gaze sharpening as his voice lowered. "Just create what feels right to you. Try, fail, and change it as you go. You’re not going to figure it all out today, tomorrow, or even a year from now. But that’s the point. It’s your path."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Lian Yi stared at him, her breath slowing as the weight of his words sank in. He wasn’t asking her to be perfect. He wasn’t asking her to follow some ideal. He was telling her to trust herself, to make her own choices, even if they led to mistakes.

Her frustration didn’t disappear, but something shifted. Ahmad’s methods were maddening, but maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to stop looking for answers from him and start looking for them within herself.

She didn’t say anything. She just picked up her guan dao and got back to training—or at least, she tried to.

“No, that’s enough for today. We’re leaving tomorrow, and you need to conserve your strength for the journey. Go rest and think about what I told you,” Ahmad said softly.

Lian Yi hesitated, her hands still wrapped around the guan dao, knuckles white from the effort. Her body ached in ways she hadn’t known were possible, and every part of her screamed to keep going, to push further. Yet, Ahmad’s words hung in the air, the rare softness in his tone surprising her more than any of his drunken rants.

She didn’t respond, not verbally at least. With a deep breath, she nodded and placed the guan dao down on the ground carefully before walking away.

“Oh, you're just gonna leave it on the ground for me to pick up? Damn girl, it isn't that deep. Aaaand you’re just gonna ignore me. Okay, goodnight or something,” he said, half-mockingly, before picking the guan dao off the ground and walking away with it.

Her muscles screamed with every step, but there was a different kind of weight pressing down on her now—Ahmad’s words and the realization that maybe she was searching for something that didn’t exist: a perfect form, a perfect technique, a perfect path.

She couldn’t stop her mind from racing, replaying the day’s training over and over. The weight of the guan dao in her hands, the sound it made as it sliced through the air, the burn in her muscles as she fought to maintain control. Ahmad’s words echoed in her mind.

"Just create what feels right to you."

But what did feel right to her? What did she even want? Power, yes. Strength. The ability to defend her sect, her father, herself. But beyond that? The question lingered, unanswered.

Tomorrow they would leave. Tomorrow would mark the next step in her journey. She didn’t know where Ahmad planned to take her, but that wasn’t the most important part. What mattered was what she would do once they got there.

The dawn light filtered through the trees as Lian Yi made her way to the main hall, the soft morning breeze carrying with it the scent of pine and dew. Her body ached, but it was a dull, familiar ache—the kind that came after days of hard training. Today, she wasn’t thinking about the pain though. Today was about the next step.

She found her father already waiting for her at the entrance of the sect’s main hall, his posture straight, his hands clasped behind his back.

The early morning light cast long shadows across the stone courtyard, and the Wind Flower Sect’s banners fluttered gently in the wind.

Lian Yi approached him, her guan dao strapped to her back, its weight both a comfort and a reminder of what lay ahead of her. She bowed to her father, but there was a tension in the air that neither of them could ignore.

Lian Wei’s gaze softened when he looked at her. His eyes, though weary, held a pride that made her chest tighten. He was still her father, and today, they both knew things were going to change.

“Are you ready, Yi?” he asked, his voice low but steady. It wasn’t the voice of a sect leader, it was the voice of a father, worried for his daughter.

Lian Yi nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I am, Father.”

He studied her for a long moment, his expression one of discomfort. Finally, he sighed, the weight of his responsibility and the burden of the decisions he had made resting heavily on his shoulders.

“I wish things could be different,” Lian Wei said, his tone softer now. “I wish I could keep you here, train you myself, and protect you from the world outside. But we both know that isn’t possible anymore. All because I'm too weak.”

Lian Yi met his gaze, her own resolve hardening. She knew what was at stake, her future, her father’s legacy, the survival of their sect. This journey with Ahmad wasn’t just about her training. It was about protecting the Wind Flower Sect from the threats that loomed over them, from the Hidden Blade Sect and beyond.

“I’ll come back stronger,” she promised, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I’ll protect the sect. I’ll protect you.”

Lian Wei smiled then, though it was a sad, bittersweet smile. “You’ve grown so much, Yi. I’m proud of you, no matter what happens. Heh, who could have guessed my little Yi would become braver than I ever was.”

For a moment, Lian Yi wanted to say something more, something to reassure him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she simply nodded again, the silence between them speaking louder than any words could.

They stood there, father and daughter, in the quiet morning air, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them.

“Ahmad’s waiting for you,” Lian Wei said after a moment, his voice returning to that of the sect leader. “He may not show it, but he's starting to care about you. You are his first disciple after all.”

Lian Yi glanced back toward the path that led to the outer gates of the sect. She could see Ahmad lounging by the gate, his usual bottle of wine in hand, looking as indifferent as ever. But now, after a week of training with him, she knew better. There was more to Ahmad than he let on.

“I know,” she said quietly.

Lian Wei stepped forward, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. “Be careful, Yi,” he said, his voice softer now, filled with both affection and concern. “The world doesn’t show mercy to those who forge their own path. And… do try to make sure I don’t end up a grandfather before you return.” His lips curled into a faint, teasing smile. “There’s no telling how many young masters will try to steal you away.”

Lian Yi blinked, her face immediately warming with embarrassment. She shot her father a look of exasperation, her cheeks flushing despite her best efforts to maintain composure. “Father!” she protested, her voice a mix of indignation and embarrassment.

Lian Wei chuckled softly, his smile widening at her reaction. “I’m only saying, I may be your father but you are truly beautiful, add to that how strong you will become and many will try.”

Lian Yi shook her head, trying to shake off the blush that refused to leave her cheeks. "I’ll worry about that when I’ve become strong enough for them to become a problem."

Her father smiled, nodding approvingly. "That’s the spirit. Now go, but remember, this isn't a goodbye, I'll be waiting as long as I have to.”

With one last look, Lian Yi turned and began walking toward the gates. Her father watched her go, his figure growing smaller in the distance as she joined Ahmad.

“About time,” Ahmad muttered, taking a lazy swig of his wine. “Thought you were going to spend the whole morning saying goodbyes.”

Lian Yi didn’t respond, but there was a new strength in her step. The doubts and frustrations from the previous days still lingered, but they were no longer holding her back. She was leaving the Wind Flower Sect behind, but she wasn’t leaving who she was.

Together, they stepped through the gates, the familiar sight of the sect fading as they ventured into the town in which the sect was located. The first one of many they would visit.