The following morning began with silence. No soft hum of cultivation, no quiet breathing from Lin Tian's mat. Just the weight of bruised muscles, a half-healed cut across one knuckle, and a dull ache running through every bone in his back.
Chen Mu hovered silently, watching.
Lin Tian sat hunched beside the cold hearth, blinking at his palms. "It's harder today," he mumbled. "Like the Qi doesn't want to move."
"It's called fatigue," Chen Mu replied. "You worked your soul, your mind, and every muscle in your body yesterday. Rest is cultivation, too."
"I don't have time to rest," Lin Tian said, voice tight.
He stood and nearly staggered into the wall.
Chen Mu sighed and activated [Soul Tap].
A cool pulse steadied Lin Tian's balance. His shoulders eased.
"Sit. Breathe. You don't climb a mountain by sprinting it."
[+1 BP for calm authoritative advice.]
Lin Tian obeyed. But his brows furrowed.
"Master," he said quietly, "when I'm stronger... will I still have to shovel beast dung?"
Chen Mu didn't answer right away.
"No," he said eventually. "But only if you're strong enough to make someone else do it."
Lin Tian winced. "That doesn't sound very noble."
Chen Mu chuckled bitterly. "Cultivation isn't noble. It's survival wrapped in mythology."
[+2 BP for world-weary insight.]
Before the conversation could go further, someone banged on the door.
Again.
A familiar voice followed.
"You alive in there, pig boy?"
Lin Tian opened the door to find Guo leaning against the frame, a smirk already in place. Two more outer sect disciples stood behind him — unfamiliar, bored-looking, but clearly there to back him up.
"I've got a new assignment for you," Guo said, tossing a sealed scroll into Lin Tian's hands. "Straight from Elder Hu himself."
"Elder Hu?" Lin Tian echoed.
"Task overseer," Guo said. "Outer sect labor coordinator. Real piece of work. And guess what? He thinks you've been slacking."
"I've been working every day," Lin Tian said, jaw tight.
Guo leaned in. "Then maybe he just doesn't like your face."
The two disciples behind him chuckled.
Chen Mu pulsed faintly in the ring. "Don't bite. Let it pass."
Lin Tian held back whatever retort he was forming and broke the seal on the scroll.
He read in silence.
Then his shoulders slumped.
"What is it?" Chen Mu asked.
"They want me to haul alchemical waste barrels out of the old furnace pits."
Chen Mu paused. "That's... not safe, is it?"
Lin Tian didn't answer. He just bowed to the others, then turned to grab his belt and gloves.
Guo smirked as he walked away. "Make sure to wear a mask. The last guy grew mushrooms in his lungs."
The furnace pits lay on the western slope of the sect grounds, half-buried beneath cracked stone structures and old wards that hadn't pulsed in years. Even outer sect disciples rarely came here.
Lin Tian had never been this deep before.
He descended a narrow, crumbling stairwell into what looked like a buried hall. The air stank of burnt ash and chemicals that shouldn't be breathed.
Chen Mu flared lightly in warning.
"Is this even legal?"
"No one cares," Lin Tian said, already tying a cloth around his nose and mouth.
The waste barrels were huge. Blackened, dented, and marked with old sigils that sparked faintly as he touched them. The scroll said to roll them out and stack them for later disposal.
He started working.
And it was bad.
The air was sharp. His gloves soaked up some unknown fluid that hissed faintly on contact. One barrel was warm — disturbingly warm — and buzzed with internal pressure.
Halfway through his second barrel, Chen Mu broke the silence.
"This is punishment."
"I know."
"No. I mean this isn't random labor. Someone's trying to break you."
Lin Tian paused. He looked at the glowing ring on his finger. "I think so too."
They didn't talk for a while.
He kept moving barrels.
At dusk, a soft voice echoed from the stairwell.
"Disciple Lin Tian?"
He turned to see a tall man in deep violet robes descending the stairs. Thin, severe features. A long mustache that framed an unsmiling mouth.
Elder Hu.
The task overseer.
Chen Mu tensed.
"Honored Elder," Lin Tian said, bowing low.
"You've been reassigned," Elder Hu said, holding a new scroll. "Effective immediately."
Lin Tian blinked. "I—I'm not done yet, Elder."
"I'm aware," the elder said. "This assignment was a test. You failed."
"What?"
Chen Mu flared with anger. "He's been working since sunrise!"
"Your report, submitted by Senior Disciple Guo, stated you abandoned your previous task. You left a pen gate open and endangered spirit beasts."
"That's a lie!" Lin Tian burst out.
"Disrespect," Elder Hu said flatly. "Noted."
He dropped the scroll on the nearest barrel and turned to leave.
Chen Mu seethed in the ring.
The elder paused at the top of the stairs.
"Some disciples are born with promise," he said without turning. "Others are born to serve. Know your place, Lin Tian."
And then he was gone.
That night, Lin Tian sat outside his hut, covered in grime, arms limp at his sides.
He didn't speak.
Chen Mu waited.
Finally, Lin Tian said, "They're trying to push me out."
"They are," Chen Mu said.
"I didn't even do anything wrong."
"You're poor, untalented, and quiet. That's all it takes."
Lin Tian looked up at the moon. "Maybe I don't belong here."
"No," Chen Mu said slowly. "But not for the reasons they think."
The wind rustled through the trees.
"I want to get strong," Lin Tian said. "But not just for me anymore. I want them to know they were wrong."
Chen Mu nodded.
"And when you're strong enough," he said, "we leave this place."
Lin Tian didn't react right away.
Then he smiled.
And for the first time, it wasn't timid or uncertain.
It was sharp. Quiet. Determined.
"Yeah," he said. "We leave."