The morning breeze whispered through the pines, carrying the scent of dew and earth. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting patterns on the forest floor.
This tranquil scene lasted but a moment before—
Fwoosh!
A pebble whizzed through the air, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps and labored breathing. Jon darted between trees, his movements a blur as he dodged projectile after projectile.
Han stood atop a moss-covered boulder, his wrinkled hand a constant blur of motion as he flung stones with unerring accuracy.
"Gramps!" Jon yelped, narrowly avoiding a pebble that grazed his ear. "That last one was definitely faster!"
Han's face remained impassive, save for the ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Nonsense, boy. You're hallucinating. Perhaps if you focused more on your qinggong and less on complaining, you might actually improve."
Jon grumbled under his breath but redoubled his efforts. It had been a week since his breakthrough, and Han had wasted no time in ramping up his training. Now that Jon had grasped the basics of qi circulation and transformation, he was learning to apply those skills while in motion—a task far more challenging than he'd anticipated.
As the sun climbed higher, Han finally called an end to the morning's training. Jon collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, while his master casually dusted off his hands.
"Not bad, disciple," Han mused. "You only got hit thirty-seven times today. A marked improvement from yesterday's fifty-two."
Jon groaned, already feeling the bruises forming. "Thanks, Gramps. Your encouragement never fails to warm my heart."
Han's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Speaking of warming, it's nearly noon. Time for your afternoon task."
With a groan, Jon hauled himself to his feet. He knew what was coming.
Everyday, for one shichen*—a measure of time Jon had come to dread—he stood at the edge of a crystalline lake, at the other side of the mountains, panting slightly.
The Azure-Finned Tuna, a specific species of tuna that Han inexplicably craved, darted beneath the surface, its scales glinting like sapphires in the afternoon sun.
Jon dove in, the shock of cold water barely registering.
The chase was on. Jon's arms cut through the water with practiced efficiency, but the tuna remained frustratingly out of reach. Its speed was otherworldly, leaving nothing but bubbles in its wake.
As the second half of the shichen drew to a close, Jon emerged from the lake empty-handed, as always.
Disappointment gnawed at him, but there was no time to dwell. His feet carried him swiftly to the base of a thundering waterfall. The roar of cascading water filled his ears as he assumed a meditative posture beneath the torrent. The impact was crushing, threatening to break his concentration at every moment.
From a nearby cliff, Han watched, his keen eyes never leaving his disciple. Twice during the two-hour session, he had to intervene, his hands redirecting Jon's qi flow when the young man's control wavered dangerously.
As the sun began its descent, Han called an end to the waterfall meditation.
But Jon's day was far from over.
Without a moment's rest, he launched into a grueling series of exercises: 500 push-ups, the stone beneath his palms cracking under the force; 500 sit-ups, each repetition faster than humanly possible; 500 squats that left his legs quivering.
Finally came the run—50 li at full speed, a distance that would have once seemed impossible. Jon's lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but he pushed on, drawing upon his qi to fuel his superhuman pace.
When came dusk, Jon would trudge back to their camp, his body aching from the day's exertions. The familiar scent of Han's cooking wafted through the air, making his stomach growl in anticipation and dread.
Han sat cross-legged by the fire, stirring a pot of bubbling stew. Big Dawg lay nearby, tail wagging at the promise of a hearty meal. The old master would always look up as Jon approached, a knowing glint in his eye.
"Well, disciple?" Han asked, though the question was merely a formality at this point.
Jon shook his head, shoulders slumping in defeat. Another day, another failure to catch the elusive Azure-Finned Tuna.
Han nodded, unsurprised. "You know the rules, boy," he said, reaching into his robes to produce a small pouch. From it, he withdrew a handful of gray, unappetizing pills—Essence Condensation Pellets.
The sight of those dreaded pills made Jon's heart sink. Their agreement was clear: no tuna meant no real food. He was condemned to watch his master and even their dog feast on a proper meal while he subsisted on these flavorless, qi-infused pellets.
"Remember," Han said, "true cultivators transcend the need for worldly flavors. These pellets contain all the qi and nutrients your body requires."
Jon grimaced as he popped one of the pills into his mouth. It tasted like dry oats and smelled disturbingly like wet wood. "And what about you, Gramps? Don't see you chomping down on these delights."
Han waved a dismissive hand. "I'm old. I've earned my indulgences."
*****
For a week that felt like an eternity, Jon endured the grueling routine. Each day blurred into the next, a never-ending cycle of aching muscles, tasteless pills, and the mocking glint of that uncatchable Azure-Finned Tuna.
As the second week drew to a close, a different kind of dread settled in his stomach.
It was market day.
The journey down the mountain was uneventful, but Jon's mood soured with each step closer to the bustling marketplace. The weight of Han's freshly cut wood on his back was nothing compared to the burden of social interaction that awaited him.
Jon set up his stall with practiced efficiency, arranging the logs and kindling with care. He'd barely finished when a familiar, overly enthusiastic voice cut through the market's din.
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"Hello, Brother Jon! How have you been?!"
Jon suppressed a groan, plastering on a polite smile as he turned to face Liang Zhi. The young man's grin was wide enough to split his face in two.
"I'm good," Jon replied, his tone carefully neutral. "And you?"
As Liang Zhi launched into a detailed account of his week, Jon found himself irritated. He was self-aware enough to recognize his own capacity for being annoying—his incessant questions had driven Han to distraction more than once. But Liang Zhi? He was on another level entirely.
The young man's steady stream of chatter washed over Jon like a tidal wave of unwanted intimacy. He nodded at what he hoped were appropriate intervals, all the while scanning the crowd for potential customers—or escape routes.
Suddenly, Liang Zhi's hand shot out, grasping Jon's forearm.
He tensed, fighting the urge to yank his arm away as Liang Zhi's fingers traced the curve of his bicep.
"Ooh, you're growing stronger!" Liang Zhi exclaimed. Then, with a proud grin, he added in heavily accented English, "Naisu muscuru!"
Jon blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected linguistic display. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, searching for an appropriate response.
Before he could formulate one, a gruff voice called out from nearby. "Oi! Brother Jon! How much for a bundle of kindling?"
Never had Jon been so grateful for a customer's interruption. He turned to the portly man approaching his stall, pointedly ignoring Liang Zhi's pout at the loss of attention.
As Jon finished his transaction with the portly customer, he couldn't shake the nagging curiosity that had been gnawing at him for days. Liang Zhi's peculiar behavior had been a constant source of bewilderment.
This wasn't the first time he had sprinkled English into their conversations, always with an air of intentionality that left Jon unsettled. The young man was undeniably strange, and Jon had developed numerous theories about him over their encounters.
In this new world where the impossible seemed commonplace, Jon found himself unable to entirely dismiss Liang Zhi's claim of being able to see the future. The idea both intrigued and annoyed him in equal measure. He had always avoided pressing the issue, partly because he didn't fully trust the elusive and unserious young man, and partly because a small part of him feared it might actually be true.
But today, his curiosity finally got the better of him. Jon turned back to Liang Zhi, who was still hovering nearby with an expectant grin.
"How do you know those words?"
Liang Zhi's face turned in his direction, as if he'd been waiting for this very question. "Oh me?" he replied cheerfully. "You taught me!"
Jon furrowed his brow, confusion evident on his face. "I don't remember ever teaching you any words," he said slowly, "especially not 'nice muscle'."
A sly smile spread across Liang Zhi's face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Now you did," he said cryptically.
Jon's patience finally snapped.
In one swift motion, he stood up, grabbed Liang Zhi by the collar, and began dragging him out of the market. The sudden commotion drew startled gasps and curious stares from the crowd, but Jon paid them no mind.
"Whoa, are we going to the forest already?" Liang Zhi chirped, his tone betraying excitement rather than fear. His easy acceptance only fueled Jon's irritation.
As they moved away from the bustle of the marketplace, Liang Zhi's chatter continued unabated. "You know, Brother Jon, I've always wanted to explore the forest with you. Do you think we'll see any spirit beasts? Oh, or maybe we could find some rare herbs!"
Jon remained silent, his jaw clenched as he marched them towards the treeline.
Upon reaching the forest's edge, Jon roughly pushed Liang Zhi against a tree, pinning him there with one hand.
"Ouch," Liang Zhi winced, though his smile never faltered. "That hurts more than I thought it would. You're getting strong so fast!" The pride in his voice was unmistakable.
"Enough," Jon growled, his patience wearing dangerously thin. "Who exactly are you?"
The fact that Liang Zhi knew English and used it so deliberately around Jon could only mean one thing: he knew about his otherworldly nature.
Given how unpredictable Liang Zhi was, Jon needed to understand his intentions.
Liang Zhi's perpetual smile widened. "Well, I told you already. I am your friend. Your future sworn brother!"
Jon stared at the blindfolded young man in disbelief. After a few seconds, he released his grip, a pang of guilt hitting him for manhandling a blind person, annoying as he might be.
With a heavy sigh, he took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing thoughts. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, more controlled.
"Liang Zhi," he began, the politeness in his voice sounding strained even to his own ears, "I'm sorry for being rough. But please, I need you to be straight with me. How do you know about... where I'm from? What do you know about me? And why do you keep saying we'll be sworn brothers?"
Liang Zhi burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the forest. Jon found himself wondering, not for the first time, if the young man wasn't a bit unhinged.
As his laughter subsided, Liang Zhi wiped an imaginary tear from beneath his blindfold. "Aah, this is the first time you've apologized to me."
Jon, struggling to maintain his composure, changed tack. "Where's your sister, by the way? How did you find me in the market without her?"
"Oh, I knew you'd be here. I just waited," Liang Zhi shrugged. "My sister's playing with the other kids." He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. "I think she likes that Bao boy."
"Liang Zhi, focus please," Jon said, exasperation creeping into his voice.
Liang Zhi straightened up, clearing his throat. "Right." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Well, I can see the future."
"You said that already," Jon pointed out, his patience wearing thin.
"I know, I know," Liang Zhi nodded. Then, something in his demeanor shifted. The perpetual smile faded, replaced by an expression of grave seriousness that Jon had never seen before.
"I was about to tell you about my childhood," Liang Zhi began, his tone uncharacteristically solemn, "but you would have told me you didn't want to hear my backstory, so here goes nothing."
Jon blinked, taken aback by both the sudden change in Liang Zhi's demeanor and the oddly specific prediction.
"Fate, Jon, is like a great river. It flows unchangeably towards its destination. We are but leaves in its current, each with our own path to follow. You and I, like all others, have our roles to play."
"And what are those tasks?" Jon asked, curiosity piqued despite his skepticism.
"I have to guide you," Liang Zhi replied. "Make sure you do what you're supposed to do."
Jon couldn't help but chuckle. "Didn't you just say that fate was unchangeable?"
"Yeah," Liang Zhi nodded, his voice tinged with sadness. "No matter what you do, you cannot change it. I tried many times. My clan was still decimated."
Jon opened his mouth to apologize for triggering a painful memory, but Liang Zhi pressed on.
"You have a lot to do, Jon. A lot of injustice to correct." Liang Zhi's words hung in the air. "So much that I pity you."
Before he could respond, Liang Zhi continued.
"I know how you feel. How you don't want to step up, to be a 'hero'." He paused, his unseeing eyes seeming to look right through Jon. "But it's not as simple as that."
With deliberate slowness, Liang Zhi reached up and removed his blindfold. His were a pale, ethereal blue, empty of sight but somehow filled with an otherworldly knowing.
"I lost my sight when I gained the power to foresee," Liang Zhi said softly. "And though I couldn't save my clan, I would like to make sure my little sister lives in a world devoid of all this violence and blood." His voice cracked slightly, a rare show of vulnerability. "And to do that, I'm supposed to be here, with you. And later on, when your travels begin."
Jon's mind raced, trying to process Liang Zhi's words. The talk of pain, suffering, and destiny - he could dismiss that. But there was one question burning in his heart, one he'd been afraid to voice even to himself.
"Do you..." Jon hesitated, the words catching in his throat.
Before he could finish, Liang Zhi spoke, his voice soft but clear. "I don't know if you'll ever go back to your home."
Jon froze, his breath catching. That was exactly what he'd wanted to ask. The answer, or lack thereof, hit him like a physical blow. Irritation flared within him, pushing aside his earlier sympathy.
"You say you can see the future, and you can't tell the end of it?" Jon snapped, his frustration evident.
Liang Zhi sighed, his empty eyes seeming to look past Jon. "Well, I can only see so far into it. At one point, it's just... void."
"What do you mean?" Jon asked, confusion mixing with his anger.
"I don't know," Liang Zhi replied, his voice unnervingly calm. "I think... I think that's the point where I die."
Jon stood there, flabbergasted. The casual way Liang Zhi spoke of his own death sent a chill down his spine. But before he could respond, Liang Zhi's familiar smile returned, spreading across his face like sunshine after a storm.
"Ooh, don't be so shocked!" Liang Zhi chuckled. "I don't fear death! I've lived this life over a thousand times through my visions. At this point, you get used to it." He burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the forest.
As Liang Zhi's laughter faded, his expression shifted once again, this time to one of casual remembrance.
"Oh, by the way, I almost forgot the reason of our meeting today," he said, as if mentioning an afterthought, "the 100,000 years comet will be seen tonight. Be sure to be at the mountain by night." His tone grew slightly more serious as he added, "You guys are having a visit."