The morning began with Tian Shen waking up in a panic. Again.
"Not this. Not again."
He stared at the ceiling with the hollow eyes of a man who had seen his own beaten and bruised body—in various painful renditions—too many tis.
Feng Yin was still asleep, her hand curled around his like the elegant sleeping phoenix she was.
Little i on his left, trying to sar his arm with her bosomy dior.
Drowsy sat on his chest like a demonic paperweight, blinking once before letting out a single, lodic chirp.
"You’re supposed to warn if I’m having nightmares."
He whispered.
"Chirp~"
"That wasn’t a nightmare?"
"Chirp~"
"...Yeah, I figured."
Dragging his aching limbs out of bed, Tian Shen reached for his robes. Every joint protested. His Qi seed to whimper in sympathy.
He dressed slower this ti. Like a man dressing for his own funeral. Because he was.
Maybe.
...
He arrived at the training spot with five minutes to spare.
Which, according to Elder Su, ant he was already late.
She stood in the center of the field again. Only this ti, there were two new additions.
Wooden stakes.
Lots of them.
He muttered.
"Obstacle course?"
She didn’t answer imdiately. Instead, she raised a brow as she looked him up and down.
"You look like you lost a duel with a carriage."
"I did. The carriage’s na was S–."
But he shut it just when she side glanced him.
"At least You’re learning."
Tian Shen wasn’t sure if that was praise or warning.
"Today’s lesson," she continued, "is this."
He brightened.
"That doesn’t sounds promising."
"Which is why we begin with blindfolded combat."
"...We do?"
She tossed him a strip of black silk. He caught it and held it up with suspicion.
"You’re not going to start hitting the second I put this on, are you?"
"Only if you ask nicely," she said with a smile that did terrible things to his nervous system.
As he tied it on, darkness swallowed him. Every sound beca sharper. Every instinct scread.
"Now, defend yourself."
"What—"
CRACK.
A wooden rod smacked his thigh.
"OW! You didn’t say go!"
"I said defend."
Another whack. His shoulder this ti.
"You’re definitely enjoying this!"
"I enjoy discipline."
"I don’t consent to this training thod!"
"Consent is for luxuries. This is a necessity."
...
The next hour was hell.
Every ti he blocked, she changed her angle. Every ti he anticipated, she vanished. He was blind, tired, and on the verge of tears.
But then, sothing clicked.
The subtle vibration of wind.
The hush of her movents.
The faintest disturbance in his spiritual sense.
Tian Shen turned just in ti to intercept the next strike. His palm clashed with hers in midair.
There was a beat of silence.
Then she stepped back.
"Hmm."
"...Did I pass?"
"You reacted. I didn’t anticipate that. There’s a difference."
He slumped.
"But better," she added.
He smiled. Until she added—
"Now we begin the real training."
"So what was that, Bullsh*t?!"
...
Afternoon training involved sparring on moving platforms atop a lake.
Yes.
Moving. Platforms. On. A. Lake.
And to add cherry on top, there this formation he can’t understand hindering his movents sohow.
Elder Su stood poised like a spirit above water, her robes untouched by the splash, her balance ethereal.
Tian Shen, on the other hand, fell in three tis in the first minute.
"Again," she said.
"At this point I’m just a very handso fish."
"Flatter yourself after you dodge this—"
Her fan flicked. A wind slash zipped across the lake, slicing his platform in half.
He scread.
Again.
...
By evening, he was drenched, half-dead, and missing one shoe.
They returned to the shore.
Elder Su offered him a towel.
He blinked.
"You’re... being kind?"
"I don’t want wet disciples catching a cold. That’s irresponsible."
"...You care."
"I care about discipline."
She paused, then added, just slightly quieter—
"And perhaps your idiocy deserves a fighting chance."
He stared at her. She stared back.
The mont stretched long enough to beco dangerously aningful.
Then she ruined it.
"Stop looking at like that. I’m not your savior."
"No, but you’re definitely my executioner."
...
Later that night, Tian Shen limped back to the dorms like a war survivor.
His robe was ripped. His pride was in tatters. But his footwork? Impeccable.
Feng Yin looked up from a scroll.
"You swam again?"
"Multiple tis. I may have beco amphibious."
Little i tossed him a peach.
"Eat that. I think it has recovery properties. Or maybe it’ll give you gas. One of those."
Tian Shen bit into it anyway. At this point, nothing mattered.
"How long is this training supposed to last?" he asked.
Feng Yin leaned forward.
"Elder Su doesn’t take disciples. You’re the first."
He blinked.
"What?"
Tian Shen chewed slower. That ant sothing.
Sothing terrifying.
...
That night, as he stared at the ceiling again, Drowsy curled next to him.
He whispered.
"Why ?"
The bird chirped softly.
"Chirp~"
"You think she sees sothing in ?"
"Chirp~"
"What, like potential?"
"Chirp~"
"...Or that she just likes hitting ?"
Silence.
Then another chirp.
Tian Shen sighed.
...
Next Morning.
Tian Shen awoke to the soft weight of a bird and the not-so-soft pout of a fox.
Drowsy sat smugly on his chest, wings slightly puffed, emitting a glow that was frankly unjustified for a glorified pigeon.
But it wasn’t her presence that had him sweating.
It was the tail. The big, swishing, blood-red tail curling up beside his cheek like a warning.
"Kyuuu~"
’Wakey, Wakey.’
Tian Shen froze.
"...Please no."
Little i, in her fox form, stared at him with bright ruby eyes gleaming with righteous indignation.
Her body, once curvy and aty, now manifested back to a gorgeous Blood Fox with a halo of spiritual aura and absolutely no boundaries.
"You’re jealous," he said, accusingly.
"Kyuu~!"
’I am NOT.’
Little i denied.
Drowsy blinked. Tian Shen could swear the divine chicken smirked.
The fox pounced on his face.
"I can’t breathe!"
"Kyuu~ Kyuuu~ Kyuuuu~!"
Tail smacks. Headbutts. Paw-fu cuddles.
"Get your murder marshmallow off my face!"
He wheezed.
Feng Yin rolled over on her bunk, peeking at the chaos through one sleepy eye.
"Your choices led you here."
"This isn’t a choice! It’s an animal uprising!"
She yawned and turned away.
Tian Shen fought for oxygen beneath the now semi–yandere fox’s affection, realizing with no small amount of horror that this was just the beginning.
...
3rd day of the Training.
Tian Shen had believed—foolishly—that his body had finally adjusted to Elder Su’s unique teaching style, which consisted primarily of pain, confusion, and profound humiliation.
He was wrong.
That morning, Elder Su introduced a technique known as Echo Movent—an art so fast it outpaced sound itself.
She demonstrated it by vanishing before Tian Shen’s eyes and reappearing behind him, whereupon she flicked his earlobe with such force that birds scattered from nearby trees.
Tian Shen nearly ascended from the sheer surprise.
anwhile, Drowsy—his so-called companion—emitted a musical chirp that could only be interpreted as applause.
The betrayal stung almost as much as his ear.
...
6th Day of the Training.
Little i, driven by a mixture of boredom and foxlike mischief, decided to infiltrate the training field disguised as a bush.
A literal bush.
It fooled no one. Least of all Elder Su, who kicked her into the horizon with clinical precision. At least it was Not lethal.
Tian Shen laughed.
And for that, Elder Su kicked him, too.
"Discipline," she said coolly, "is contagious."
...
9th Day of the Training.
Today’s lesson was sword play.
Blindfolded.
According to Elder Su.
"Eyes can lie. Instincts do not."
Tian Shen, trusting his instincts, promptly walked into a tree.
Then again.
One could almost hear the trees sigh.
...
12th Day of the Training.
The dreaded platform lake training returned.
It began with dignity. Tian Shen stood tall, balanced, focused.
He fell in within thirty seconds.
Repeatedly.
By the fifth splash, local fish had started to circle him reverently. One in particular, a sleek orange fellow, lingered often.
Tian Shen nad it Harold.
Feng Yin, observing from the shore, sketched the fish in her notes for "research".
Little i attempted to fish Harold out using her tails.
Chaos insued.
...
15th Day of the Training.
Spiritual sense training.
Elder Su stood motionless for twenty full minutes, expression unreadable, aura calm.
Tian Shen, fooled by the stillness, relaxed his guard.
She punched him through three wooden support pillars.
He didn’t even see it coming.
Lesson of the day: never trust silence. Especially not the kind that precedes catastrophic violence.
...
17th Day of the Training.
Tian Shen spent the morning holding a difficult stance.
For three hours.
He collapsed in a graceless heap just before the fourth hour.
Elder Su handed him tea.
It was bitter.
Painfully bitter.
Possibly weaponized.
When he gagged and looked up accusingly, she replied, "It restores internal circulation, Tian Shen."
She also, for the first ti after the training, referred to him by na.
Not "idiot".
Not "hopeless".
Tian Shen.
That stunned him more than the tea.
...
21st Day of the Training.
Feng Yin began taking an odd sort of pleasure in attending Tian Shen’s daily recovery.
She brought towels. Prepared ointnts. Sat beside him like a silent judge delivering nightly verdicts.
Warm towels. Warm expression.
She said little, but the corners of her lips always lifted—just slightly—when Tian Shen groaned in pain.
Little i perched on his shoulder regularly, flicking her tail and offering sage advice like, "You should bite her next ti."
Drowsy, for reasons unknown, began to nod in sync with Elder Su whenever Tian Shen failed to dodge an attack.
It was clear now: he had lost command of his life.
...
25th Day of the Training.
Elder Su sparred with him using only one finger.
Tian Shen gave it everything.
He still lost.
But when he lay flat on the ground gasping like a fish out of water, she gave him a nod. Not the sarcastic kind. A real one. The kind that said, You might not be useless forever.
He almost cried.
Then she struck him again for lowering his guard.
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