Time Until First Rift Appears: 5 Years, 1 Month, 17 Days.
The dawn bathed the mountains in soft gold, but in Mei Mei’s personal courtyard, the air was sharp with tension. Kneeling in the center of a small stone platform surrounded by frost-touched cherry blossoms, she exhaled slowly, watching her breath cloud in the crisp morning air. Her hands rested on her lap, her fingers trembling faintly—not from cold, but from the frustration coursing through her veins.
Her qi spiraled within her core, untamed and stubborn, refusing to obey the shape she demanded of it. She didn’t want a flame that burned—everyone could do that. She wanted something different, something that embodied the icy chill that resonated deep within her. A flame that froze. A contradiction, yes, but wasn’t cultivation about defying what was expected?
Eyes closed, she focused again, her breathing steady as she visualized the ice-blue spark. It flickered in her mind, faint and unstable, but she pushed harder, her will like a hammer trying to mold stubborn steel. Slowly, she felt the shift, a fragile connection forming, and for a moment her heart raced with hope. Then, just as quickly, it shattered. The spark flickered and died, her qi spiraling out of control before dissipating entirely.
The failure left her trembling, her hands curling into fists on her lap. She slammed a palm against the stone, the sharp crack echoing through the courtyard. Her frustration swelled, and with it, the icy frost that clung to the petals around her began to melt.
Mei Mei rose to her feet, pacing the courtyard with an intensity that mirrored the storm inside her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was an Elders granddaughter, heir to a lineage steeped in power and respect. She should already be at Qi Foundation by now, but instead, she was stuck. Stagnant.
Why doesn't it want to work I have tried everything...should I have not made that wager?
Mei Mei in her stubbornness made a wager with her grandfather if she could break through into the Qi foundation realm he would speak to the Young Master which make him rescind the order that Rin's mother gave her knuckles whitened at the thought and a ache in her body just below her chest made her stumble it always felt like this when thinking of him
I wonder how he is doing his mom never told us the specifics but it seemed like Master Ryuha failed in making Rin able to sense qi
Eyes closed, Mei Mei tried once again to calm her breathing, but the rhythm faltered, her chest still heaving from her frustration. She cursed under her breath, glaring at the frost-covered blossoms as if they were to blame for her failure.
"Stupid flame," she muttered. "Stupid sect. Stupid..."
Her voice cracked, and she clenched her fists. She could feel the familiar ache blooming just under her chest, a sharp pang that wouldn’t let her forget the one person who had been caught in the crossfire of her arrogance and ambition.
Rin.
She hadn’t told him. She hadn’t told anyone about the wager—how her pride had driven her to strike a deal with her grandfather. How she’d promised to break through to Qi Foundation in exchange for his influence to undo the Young Master’s cruel orders. Orders that made Rin's life harder than it already was.
I should’ve told him.
The thought made her stomach twist. She could still picture Rin’s face—so serious, so determined, even when everything was stacked against him. How could she face him now, knowing that her silence had only added to his burdens?
The sharp creak of the courtyard gate snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. Mei Mei’s head whipped around, her irritation rising.
“Who dares—” she began, but the sight of Shu Fen, her personal maid and bodyguard, standing at the gate silenced her.
Shu Fen crossed her arms, her expression a mix of exasperation and faint amusement. “Who dares? Really? I should start announcing myself like that—‘Who dares disturb the great Mei Mei?’”
Mei Mei glared, her cheeks flushing. “I gave orders not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, yes,” Shu Fen said with a dismissive wave, stepping into the courtyard. “No one disturbs you unless the sect’s under attack or the heavens themselves decide to collapse. I heard you loud and clear.”
“Then why are you here?” Mei Mei snapped, though the edge in her voice was more from embarrassment than anger.
Shu Fen raised an eyebrow, her tone turning sharp. “Because the infirmary staff thought you’d want to know that Rin has been lying in a bed there for the past two weeks. Injured. Badly.”
The words hit Mei Mei like a physical blow, her heart dropping into her stomach. “What?”
“Oh, you heard me,” Shu Fen said, her voice cutting. “Two weeks. Fourteen days. The entire time, you’ve been busy sulking out here.”
Mei Mei froze, the guilt washing over her in waves. Her voice came out small. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Hmm, let me think,” Shu Fen said, tapping her chin theatrically. “Oh, right. Maybe it had something to do with your very strict ‘no interruptions’ policy. You know, the one where everyone in the sect is terrified to so much as breathe in your direction?”
“I didn’t mean—” Mei Mei started, but Shu Fen cut her off.
“Didn’t mean for it to apply to Rin? Maybe you should’ve been clearer.” Shu Fen sighed, her tone softening slightly. “Look, I get it. You’ve got a lot going on. But maybe next time, consider that other people do, too.”
Mei Mei’s anger flared, but it was more at herself than Shu Fen. She opened her mouth to retort, but the words wouldn’t come.
Before she could explode, Shu Fen added, her tone dry, “Besides, I was under strict orders not to disturb you unless the cherry blossoms started composing poetry or you actually managed to break through.”
That did it. Mei Mei deflated, her shoulders slumping.
Shu Fen watched her for a moment before tilting her head toward the gate. “So, are we going, or do you plan to mope for another week?”
Mei Mei didn’t answer. She spun on her heel and bolted for the gate, her heart pounding with a mix of guilt and urgency.
“Wait!” Shu Fen called, chasing after her. “At least put on proper shoes!”
“Shut up and keep up!” Mei Mei shouted over her shoulder, her voice shaky.
The two of them raced through the sect grounds, Mei Mei’s robes flapping wildly behind her. She didn’t care about the stares from the other disciples, didn’t care about the whispers. All she could think about was Rin.
Two weeks.
How could she have not known? How could she have let her pride blind her to everything else?
As the infirmary came into view, her chest tightened. Whatever anger or frustration she felt at the sect, or at herself, would have to wait. Right now, nothing mattered except Rin.
Damned be the wager. Damned be the promise.
Meanwhile, in the infirmary ward of the Medicinal Hall, Rin was enduring a battle far worse than his injuries—sheer, unrelenting boredom. He had already completed his scripting exercises three times over and had run out of creative ways to challenge himself. Writing with his left hand had been fun for about five minutes before it resembled chicken scratches even he couldn’t read.
He lay on his back now, balancing a wooden bowl on his finger like a makeshift spinning plate. It was hardly a dignified activity for someone of his standing, but what else was he supposed to do? Staring at the ceiling beams for hours was a quick path to madness, and the tutors who usually brought him lessons hadn’t appeared in days.
Rin sighed, the wooden bowl wobbling precariously before finally clattering to the ground. The dull thud echoed through the quiet infirmary. He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his arm as his thoughts churned. The absence of his tutors gnawed at him. They’d never skipped a lesson, not once—not for sickness, not for injuries, not even when Rin had stubbornly refused to cooperate. It was as if the world outside the infirmary had decided to forget him.
"Did they think I’d keel over if they pushed me too hard this time?" he muttered, scooping the bowl back up and setting it on the nearby table. He stretched out again, this time staring at the uneven wooden ceiling.
Just as Rin debated attempting to hop on one foot to test his bandages—despite the very real possibility of earning himself another stern lecture—the infirmary door creaked open.
A tall, senior disciple stepped inside, his uniform pristine, his expression calm but unreadable. Rin scrambled to sit up, smoothing the blankets with an exaggerated air of innocence.
"Rin," the disciple began, his tone measured, "you’re being discharged in an hour. Someone will come to check you over one last time."
Rin perked up instantly, a grin breaking across his face. "Finally!" he said, before hastily adding, "Thank you, Senior Brother. I’ll make sure I’m ready."
The disciple nodded, offering a faint smile at Rin’s excitement before turning and walking back out.
An hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand, six hundred seconds. Rin counted every one. At first, he sat upright, hands folded neatly in his lap, trying to appear the picture of discipline. That lasted all of five minutes before his restless energy took over. He paced the room, peeked through the crack in the infirmary door, and even resorted to tidying up the mess he’d made over the past few days.
"How does time slow down when you want it to speed up?" Rin grumbled as he practically vibrated with impatience.
When the hour was finally up, Rin didn’t wait for someone to escort him. As soon as the medic gave him the all-clear, he bolted out of the room, his heart pounding with exhilaration at finally escaping his prison. But his momentum came to an abrupt halt when he nearly collided with someone standing in the doorway.
Kaidan.
"My apologies senior brother" Rin intoned as he hastily bowed although he was technically in higher standing then the boy Infront of him unfortunately Kaidan was a disciple of the sect and going by his robes he was now a inner disciple
Quite the feat for someone so young Rin stayed bowed for another few seconds before straightening up where he saw the taller boy study him like he was some strange creature in a menagerie "It is no problem Rin, I was about to enter no harm done" the boy said in a sweet tone but his eyes said something different Rin nodded not saying anything as a awkward silence bloomed between them
Ok this weird he said he was coming here to see me...why?
"Is there something I can help with?" Rin asked as the boy in front of him still studied him with those cold eyes of his
It took Kaidan a second before he answered "Ah yes my apologies Rin, its just I heard you fought the Frostfang Wyrm and well..." he let it hang as if Rin was supposed to know exactly what he was talking about
"And well?" Rin asked
"I wanted to know how you survived?" he said frowning towards Rin "To be honest your worthless a bug to be stepped on under foot, so how did someone of your caliber manage to not only fight but also survive the Wyrm"
Rin blinked, his mind struggling to process Kaidan's words. Worthless? Bug? The insult hung in the air, sharp and deliberate, and for a moment, Rin wasn’t sure if he’d misheard.
The silence stretched between them, thick and tense, as Kaidan’s cold gaze bore into him. Rin straightened his posture, his hands curling into fists at his sides. His heart pounded, not from fear, but from the rush of indignation.
"I don’t recall needing your approval to survive, Senior Brother," Rin said evenly, his voice calm but his eyes narrowed.
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Kaidan’s lips twisted into a mockery of a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Clever words for someone so fragile. Did you hide while your companions did the real work? Or did you stumble your way to victory by sheer luck?"
The jab struck deeper than Rin wanted to admit. His jaw tightened, but he kept his composure. "Luck or not, I survived. That’s more than the wyrm can say."
I might not know what happened to the Wyrm after I passed out but I sure as hell am not going to tell him about it
Kaidan’s smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. He stepped closer, looming over Rin. "Luck runs out, Rin. And when it does, people like you end up crushed underfoot. You should remember your place before you get others killed trying to play hero."
Rin’s pulse thundered in his ears. The words were like a slap, each one stinging more than the last. He took a step forward, his head tilting up to meet Kaidan’s gaze.
"And what’s my place, Senior Brother?" Rin asked, his voice quiet but steady.
Kaidan didn’t answer immediately. His eyes flickered with something—irritation, maybe even anger—but his smirk returned. "At the bottom, where you belong."
Something inside Rin snapped. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, his fists trembling with the urge to lash out. Every ounce of reason told him to let it go, but Kaidan’s words were a weight pressing down on him, daring him to fight back.
Rin’s hand twitched at his side, his lips parting to release a retort that was already burning on his tongue. But before he could speak—or do something much, much worse—a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder, grounding him in an instant.
"Rin," Goruo’s deep voice rumbled behind him, low and steady, yet somehow cutting through the tension like a blade.
Rin turned his head slightly, catching the calm but firm expression on Goruo’s face. The larger boy didn’t even spare Kaidan a glance as he leaned in closer to Rin, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him. "Not worth it."
Rin hesitated, his fists unclenching as Goruo’s words sank in. He exhaled slowly, forcing the anger to ebb away, even if it still simmered under the surface.
Kaidan raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "Ah, your keeper. How fitting."
Goruo finally turned his attention to Kaidan, his expression unreadable. "We’re done here, right, Senior Brother?" he asked, his tone polite but with an edge that was impossible to miss.
Kaidan’s gaze lingered on Goruo for a moment before he let out a soft, mocking laugh. "For now," he said, stepping back. "But remember what I said, Rin. Luck doesn’t last forever."
With that, Kaidan spun on his heel and walked away, his robes swishing behind him.
Rin watched him go, his jaw still tight, his mind a storm of emotions. He wanted to shout something after him, to prove Kaidan wrong, but the weight of Goruo’s hand on his shoulder kept him grounded.
"Let it go," Goruo said, his voice softer now.
Rin glanced up at him, the tension in his chest easing slightly. "You heard all that, didn’t you?"
"Hard not to," Goruo said, his grin returning. "He’s loud for someone trying to be subtle."
Rin huffed a laugh despite himself. "He’s not subtle at all."
"No, he’s not," Goruo agreed, patting Rin’s shoulder before releasing him. "But you’ve got bigger things to worry about than some overgrown peacock with a superiority complex."
Rin tilted his head. "Like what?"
Goruo’s grin widened, but there was a glint of something serious in his eyes. "Living to prove him wrong."
Rin smiled "Yea you right but why did he come see me all of a sudden?" I asked not really expecting an answer but his big friend gave one anyway
"Apparently he was not to happy to be overshadowed by us" the boy answered with a smile "He got something ridiculous like 6 qi crystals in total"
Rin gaped six of them
Goruo seeing his friends astonishment just nodded "Yea apparently he wasn't to happy with us taking all the lime light"
"Why did he join the Trials in the first place if he was so good or strong not like he is going to be joining the Wardens" Rin paused thinking "Was it for the crystals?"
"Actually..." Goruo said which made Rin turn towards his friend "No I don't think so," the large boy said which prompted Rin to ask "What do you mean?"
" Kaidan hasn't exchanged any of the crystals for resources yet according to the exchange hall" Rin frowned at that
Why did he join the Trials if not for the resources but deciding not to think on the rude boy for now he looked at his friend who shoulders have slumped
"You ok there?" Rin Asked
"Yea I am fine just was hoping we would be able to join" he said in a mock hurt voice.
"Which means you are sad that you don't get any of the resources promised" Rin deadpanned which made Goruo flinch before smiling.
"Of course I heard! One of the other teams got rare elemental cultivation manuscripts from the sect's vault," his friend said, practically vibrating with excitement. Rin squinted. Was that drool?
Deciding it was best to redirect his friend's thoughts before things got any weirder, Rin asked, "Okay, anyway, where's Linhua?"
The question seemed to snap his friend out of his daydreams of treasure and rewards. He blinked, then answered, "She’s waiting at the front… or she should be. She went to grab something from her parents."
Rin nodded as they started walking toward the Medicinal Hall's exit, before they left the hall completely he stopped at where his belongings were collected them majority of them were already collected by Mrs. Chuu but his travel bag and the like she left for him when they were done they started to walk towards to the exit in earnest it didn't take them long to reach the gravel stone path the chatter of other disciples fading into the background.
The air outside the Medicinal hall was cold and crisp just as always even though they were currently in the summer months it was colder then most winters some continents experienced walking along the path it didn't take them long to see Linhua resting against a low wall twirling her infamous rope dart lazily she noticed them and grin
"So you finally healed up enough to walk" she said "What a baby" she added
“Oh please, you try fighting a Wyrm and see how far you get,” Rin said, mock indignation dripping from his voice.
Linhua snorted, tossing her rope dart into the air and catching it with ease. “Fighting? Is that what you call it? I’d say it was more like... flailing dramatically before someone had to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?!” Rin spluttered, crossing his arms. “I had everything under control.”
“Right,” Linhua drawled, her grin widening. “Which is why Master Lu Ri had to haul your sorry self out of there. You looked like a rag doll slung over his shoulder.”
“I was conserving my strength,” Rin said, lifting his chin. “A strategic retreat, you know, to keep the team’s morale intact.”
“Morale?” Linhua echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Pretty sure Goruo almost cried when he saw how limp you were. You didn’t look ‘heroic.’ You looked dead.”
Goruo let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll admit, for a second, I thought we’d lost you. Then you started mumbling about Wyrm scales and soup. Real inspiring, Rin.”
“I wasn’t mumbling,” Rin protested, though his cheeks flushed slightly. “I was... thinking out loud. Strategizing.”
“Thinking out loud about soup?” Linhua asked, her tone dripping with mockery.
Rin threw up his hands. “It’s called multitasking! Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Linhua shook her head, twirling her rope dart again. “You’re unbelievable. Master Lu Ri should’ve just left you there. Would’ve been quieter on the way back.”
“Oh, like you wouldn’t have filled the silence with your endless bragging about your rope tricks,” Rin shot back, smirking.
“Rope tricks?” Linhua gasped, clutching her chest theatrically. "If it wasn't for my rope tricks wouldn't both of you be stupid very stupid cave wall art?" she said with a smirk
"Why stupid wall art" Goruo answered absentmindedly Linhua just looked at him "That's why" she said with finality the boys looked at each other before bursting out in to laughter it didn't take Linhua long to join in as well before she spoke
"Its good to see you are okay Rin all jokes aside we weren't sure what to do when Master Lu Ri brought you out" she said he arrogance vanishing like water on desert sand
"It is good to be out of the infirmary that's for sure" Rin said touched by the words of his friend
"Only to be bad we didn't get anything out of it" Goruo said bringing the mood right down
"We went through all that trouble just to ultimately fail" Linhua added
The silence that followed was heavy, though not entirely uncomfortable. Rin studied their faces, noting the exhaustion etched into every line. The slumped shoulders. The faint bags under their eyes.
"Well yes we didn't exactly succeed," Rin said, letting a half-smile tug at his lips "but we did get to show up Kaidan right"
The joke landed like a pebble tossed into a still pond—barely a ripple. Linhua’s gaze stayed fixed on the dirt and snow beneath her, and Goruo let out a faint, frustrated grunt, neither of them sparing Rin so much as a glance.
Rin sighed, letting the moment hang a little longer before speaking again. “We sucked, didn’t we?”
That got their attention. Linhua’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “Sucked?” she echoed, her voice brittle. “We didn’t just suck, Rin. We failed."
Goruo nodded, his voice low and uncharacteristically quiet. “She’s right. All that training, all that effort… and we still weren’t good enough.”
He leaned back on his palms, tilting his head to the side as if weighing their words. Then, with a slow, deliberate grin, he said, “Yeah, you’re right. We did fail. All of us. Together.”
Linhua blinked, thrown off by the unexpected admission. “Wait—what?”
“Totally bombed it, we were so bad that we had to get rescued by Lu Ri of all people you know he wont let us live this down-" Rin said Goruo interrupted
"Yes we know Rin you don't have to rub it in you know" but Rin just made as if the boy never said anything and went on "I mean I don't think we have the right to call ourselves wardens after this fiasco, I mean wow we really fumbled this one right" he said turning as he did so
“It’s not like you were perfect either! You didn’t even look for the crystal at first. Just all that—‘Linhua, distract it!’” She mimicked his voice with a dramatic wave of her arms, face scrunched into an exaggerated expression of mock authority.
Goruo let out a snort, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter. “She’s got you there, Rin. You were real quick to play commander while we were getting mauled by yetis.”
Rin raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “Oh? And who was it again that thought punching a yeti’s kneecap would be a genius strategy? The look on its face when you—” He doubled over in mock laughter, clutching his stomach as though he could hardly contain himself.
“That worked!” Goruo interrupted, puffing out his chest with mock indignation. “For a moment, anyway. Long enough for you to run your ‘brilliant’ plan into action.”
“Oh, yes, masterful indeed,” Rin countered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The way you screamed ‘take that, you hairy brute!’ will forever echo in the annals of Warden history. Truly inspiring.”
Even Linhua, still attempting to look annoyed, couldn’t suppress her giggles as she leaned against a nearby boulder. “Rin, you’re insufferable.”
He turned to her, an exaggerated expression of innocence plastered on his face. “Me? Insufferable? I’m merely recounting events for posterity. Future generations will need to know just how valiantly we, the brave Cliff Wardens, failed spectacularly.”
“Failed?” Goruo frowned, confusion breaking through his grin. “Wait, are you saying we didn’t—”
“Oh, absolutely,” Rin interrupted, nodding solemnly. “We failed magnificently. In fact, I’m considering writing a ballad about it. ‘The Three Who Couldn’t.’ What do you think?”
Linhua groaned, her frustration bubbling up again. “Enough already, Rin! Just tell us—did we get the crystal or not?”
Rin leaned back against a jagged rock, tilting his head as though pondering the question deeply. “Hmm, well, it’s hard to say. Did I get the crystal? Technically, yes. Did we get the crystal? That’s a trickier question.”
Goruo threw his hands up in exasperation. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Rin merely grinned, the corners of his mouth curling upward like a cat toying with a particularly amusing prey. “Impossible? No, no. Incomparable, perhaps. But fine,” he said with a theatrical sigh, reaching into his pouch and holding up the qi crystal for them to see. Its faint, ethereal glow cast soft shadows on their dirt-smudged faces.
Both Linhua and Goruo froze for a moment, the tension draining from their bodies as relief washed over them. Then, almost in unison, they whooped in delight, their cheers echoing through the rocky terrain.
“You really got it!” Linhua’s voice was filled with awe as she darted forward to examine the crystal. “After everything, we actually did it!”
“I actually did it,” Rin corrected smugly, slipping the crystal back into his pouch. “But, sure, let’s call it a group effort.”
“Oh, shut up!” Linhua swatted his arm, though her grin betrayed her lack of malice. “This is huge. We’re going to the exchange hall first thing!”
“Not so fast,” Goruo interjected, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “We need to celebrate properly. Something big. Something....”
"Stupid." Linhua interjected and Goruo just grinned.
Rin raised an eyebrow. “Stupid? As in ‘you punch another yeti’ stupid, or...?”
“No, no,” Goruo said, waving a hand dismissively. “Bigger. Like sneaking into the storage caves and—”
“No!” Linhua cut in, her tone firm despite the smirk creeping onto her lips. “Absolutely not. Do you want to get your hide tanned? Or worse, assigned manure duty for a month?”
“Well,” Goruo drawled, a slow grin spreading across his face, “manure duty does build character.”
“Character?” Rin interjected, his voice dripping with mock incredulity. “Goruo, you’re already the size of a barn. Do you really want to smell like one too?”
Linhua burst into laughter, doubling over as she clutched her sides. “Oh, please, please let him get manure duty just for that.”
Goruo scowled, though the corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back a grin. “Fine, no manure duty. But we’re celebrating somehow. We’ve earned it.”
“Have we?” Rin asked, his voice teasing. “Because I distinctly recall someone suggesting we give up halfway through.”
“That was you!“ Goruo and Linhua shouted in unison, pointing accusatory fingers at him.
Rin gasped in mock horror, clutching his chest as though wounded. “Betrayed by my own comrades! And after I single-handedly saved us from failure.”
“Single-handedly, my foot!” Linhua rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her amusement. “You’d have been yeti food if I hadn’t distracted it.”
“And I softened it up!” Goruo added, pounding his fists together. “You wouldn’t have had a chance without me.”
Rin considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Fair enough. Fine, we’ll call it a team effort. But if we’re celebrating, let’s not do anything that ends with manure. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Linhua said firmly, while Goruo muttered something about missed opportunities.
“Well, then,” Rin said, straightening up and dusting off his robes. “Let’s head to the exchange hall.”
As they started down the path, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the jagged cliffs. The three of them walked close together, their voices echoing with laughter and the kind of carefree energy only children could summon after narrowly escaping disaster. Goruo playfully shoved Rin, who retaliated by flicking a pebble at Linhua, sparking a chain of mock battles and exaggerated retorts.
As they walked, they didn’t notice a pink-haired girl wiping tears from her face before turning around and marching back the way she came, determination etched into her brow.