The sun rose gently over Rising Cloud Sect, casting a warm glow across the outer court training grounds. Disciples were already gathered, sparring, cultivating, or chatting in small groups.
Ling Xian walked across the stone path, his steps light and posture relaxed. His robes were plain, but on him, they flowed like silk on jade. His silver-black hair swayed behind him, and his face — delicate yet defined — seemed even more radiant under the morning light.
Several disciples turned their heads.
"Wasn't that the guy who got beaten a few days ago?""He doesn't look weak at all today…""There's something different about him."
He said nothing. But the calm in his eyes, the poise in his steps — it left an impression.
"Ling Xian!" a sharp voice cut through the buzz.
It was Elder Zhou Yuan, the stern overseer of the outer court. The older man approached with heavy steps and a frown etched deep into his weathered face.
"You were absent from training yesterday," the elder said. "Care to explain?"
Ling Xian bowed slightly, voice respectful but steady. "I was in seclusion, Elder. My foundation was too unstable to join group exercises. I didn't wish to waste time with a weak body."
Zhou Yuan narrowed his eyes. "You sound confident for someone barely in the first layer of Qi Condensation."
"I'm only stating the truth," Ling Xian replied calmly. "I want to rise, and I know my limits."
The elder stared at him for a moment longer… then gave a faint grunt and walked off.
As the training session resumed, Ling Xian found himself standing near Fang Qing, a short-tempered yet talented outer disciple known for her fiery cultivation.
She glanced sideways at him. "That was bold," she muttered. "You used to stammer in front of the elders."
"I used to be unsure of myself," Ling Xian said softly. "Now I'm not."
She looked at him again — not with mockery, but mild surprise.
A while later, she attempted a fire-form breathing sequence and stumbled slightly on the third cycle. Before she could curse, Ling Xian stepped closer.
"You're forcing the breath too early," he said gently. "Let the fire spiral in before anchoring your dantian."
"…You could see that?"
He nodded once.
"Try it again. Slow the second rotation."
She did. The difference was immediate. Her energy stabilized, her movements smoother.
She blinked, stunned. "I've been struggling with that for weeks."
"You were just overthinking it," he said.
Others nearby noticed.
A few started listening in. One disciple came over, then another — asking small questions. Ling Xian helped each one patiently. No arrogance. No bragging.
Just quiet clarity.
And it showed.
By mid-morning, Fang Qing brought him a cold drink while he rested beneath a tree.
"Thanks for the help," she said, almost grudgingly. "You're not what I expected."
Ling Xian smiled faintly. "What did you expect?"
"Somebody who only looked good on the outside," she said bluntly. "But you… there's something more."
She didn't wait for a reply and walked away — but not without one last glance.
As the sun reached its peak, Ling Xian sat alone, cross-legged in cultivation.
His qi flowed stronger now, more stable. The energy around him responded naturally, drawn to his calm presence.
This body is still weak… but it's healing faster than expected. The first layer is solid. The second will come soon.
And the attention… it's only beginning.
Not forced. Not flaunted.
Just natural attraction — the kind that made others feel safe near him. That pulled people in, without needing a single word.
He didn't need to chase admiration.
It came to him.