Adapting to the Cold

The first snowfall of the season blanketed the Silver Lotus grounds, coating the training fields in 2 inches of snow. The morning air was sharp, each breath curling in the cold like smoke. Despite the unforgiving chill, the sound of sparring echoed across the courtyard.

Layla sat on the temple steps, staring at the frost-covered trees. The last few days had been… difficult. Ever since the nightmare, ever since it whispered to her, she had been forcing herself to move forward. She debated telling the truth—telling them she wasn't really Meilin. But every time the words crept to her lips, she swallowed them back down.

She wasn't ready.

Yuxe Wuye sat gracefully with a cup of steaming tea resting on her lap, her gaze settling on Layla as she took a quiet sip. The room was warm, the scent of herbal tea lingering in the air, a stark contrast to the icy wind outside.

"How are you feeling?" Yuxe finally asked, her voice calm but knowing.

Layla hesitated, fingers grazing the edge of the low wooden table between them.

"I'm fine."

Her mother gave her a concerned look.

Layla exhaled. "My neck is healing."

She reached up unconsciously, fingers brushing over the faint scratches. "I... I'm sorry. For the past few days. I know I haven't been speaking much. Or leaving my room. That's not very fitting for a sect leader, is it?"

Yuxe set her teacup down with a gentle clink. "A title means nothing if the person carrying it is barely standing. Taking time to recover isn't weakness, Meilin."

Layla lowered her gaze, swallowing back the tightness in her throat. "It just feels like everything keeps moving forward, and I can't catch up."

Yuxe's expression softened. "Then let yourself breathe. Just for a little while. The sect will still be here when you're ready."

Before Layla could respond, a weight suddenly dropped onto her head. 

With all the casual arrogance of an older sister, Meyu rested her chest atop Layla's head, using her as an armrest.

"Aww, look at this. Bonding time. Should I go fetch a blanket? Maybe some hairpins?"

Layla groaned. "Meyu, get off me."

"Nah, I think I like this." Meyu smirked, tilting her head toward Yuxe.

"So, what are we talking about? The fact that she somehow looks even more muscular despite being depressed?

Layla shot her a glare, but Yuxe only chuckled. "I was simply reminding her that she doesn't have to bear everything alone."

Meyu hummed. "Good advice. But knowing her, she's going to ignore it until she collapses dramatically in a training field somewhere."

Layla sighed, shaking her head. "Why do I even talk to you two?"

"Because you love us" Meyu answered instantly, flashing a smile.

Yuxe smiled into her tea. "And because deep down, you know we're right."

Layla's expression faltered for just a fraction of a second. The warmth of the room, the laughter, the affection in their voices—it should have been comforting. But instead, it twisted inside her, a quiet reminder that she was not Meilin.

That this love, this family, this acceptance, was never meant for her.

She lowered her gaze, gripping the edge of her sleeve as guilt curled in her chest.

How much of a fraud was she? How long could she keep pretending?

Meyu, still draped lazily over her, didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she did and chose not to say anything. Instead, she just shifted, resting her chin atop Layla's head now.

"Hmm? You went quiet all of a sudden. Don't tell me you're getting emotional."

Layla forced a smirk. "I'm emotional about the fact that you're crushing my skull."

Meyu grinned. "Good. That means you're still alive."

Before Layla could respond, a knock sounded at the door. Jiang's voice followed.

"Meilin, if you're feeling better, your father and I would like you to come down and train."

Layla stiffened slightly at the name, at the ease with which it left his lips. She hesitated, but Yuxe set down her tea and looked at her thoughtfully. "Are you ready?"

Layla took a slow breath. No hesitation. She had once walked into war, stood before crowds that feared and revered her. The past and present collided in her mind, but she pushed it down. Whatever she felt now, she had to move forward. Just like before.

Yuxe watched her daughter closely, the way her shoulders squared, the way she forced herself to appear steady. She had seen that same posture before—on war generals, on rulers, on people who had learned to wear strength like armour.

"Are you ready, Meilin?" she asked, her voice softer now.

Layla hesitated only for a moment before nodding. "Yes. I rested long enough."

Meyu, lounging nearby, let out a low hum.

"She says that now, but give it an hour, and we'll find her face-first in the snow."

Yuxe smiled faintly but didn't look away from Layla. "You've been distant lately.." she murmured. "More than usual."

Layla stiffened slightly. "I just… needed time."

Yuxe took a slow sip of her tea. "And now?"

Layla exhaled, fingers curling at her sides. "Now, I need to move forward."

Meyu straightened, resting her elbow on Layla's shoulder.

"That's a fancy way of saying you don't want to talk about it."

Layla shot her a flat look. "And?"

Meyu smirked. "And that's fine. As long as you know we're here when you do." She tapped Layla's forehead lightly before pulling away. "Now, go. Show them you're still alive and kicking."

Yuxe nodded approvingly, watching as Layla turned toward the door, shoulders squared once more. "Stay warm, Meilin."

Layla hesitated just briefly before stepping out, letting the cold air hit her full force. It was time to move forward, no matter how much her heart resisted.

--

The training ground was filled with the rhythmic clash of wooden weapons, the cold air carrying each sharp impact as Layla squared off against Lin Wuye. Her breath curled in the air like smoke, her muscles tense, her stance grounded. This wasn't like before. Something has changed.

Lin Wuye moved first, his strikes fluid and relentless. Layla countered, her movements sharper than they had ever been. She wasn't just using her footwork—she was instinctively weaving the first step of the Gale techniques--Whispering Breeze, her speed heightened, her strikes carrying precision.

Then it happened.

As their weapons connected, a faint distortion rippled through the air. Lin Wuye's brows furrowed as he felt a strange force push back against him, something more than just the Gale's movement. He stepped away, assessing the subtle dark etchings left along his weapon's surface.

Layla's chest rose and fell sharply. She could feel it too—the tingling, the pull, the underlying presence of Qi Rot swirling within her techniques. Her body had suppressed it for so long albeit passively, and yet, here it was.

"Again!" Lin Wuye commanded.

Layla hesitated but nodded. They clashed once more, and this time, the effect was clearer. With every strike, the wind carried something unnatural—not decay in the traditional sense, but a fleeting, erupting force, like a corrosive burst that dissipated too quickly to spread.

Jiang and Bao, previously engaged in their own sparring, had stopped to watch.

Bao squinted. "Uh… is her Qi supposed to do that?"

Jiang folded his arms. "I don't think so."

Lin Wuye lowered his weapon and studied her carefully. "Your Qi... it's changing or rather, adapting."

Layla swallowed with fear and contemplation but seeing it now—seeing it reflected in her father's expression—made it real.

"The Rot and Gale are merging is what I think." Lin Wuye continued, his tone thoughtful rather than concerned.

"But unlike before, the decay doesn't settle. It bursts on impact, then vanishes. It's forced balance, not natural equilibrium."

Jiang blinked. "So… she has exploding death wind now?"

Bao raised a brow. "Kinda unfair, don't you think?"

Lin Wuye ignored them, still watching Layla. "How long have you been suppressing this?"

Layla's grip on her weapon tightened. "I don't know but it's probably since… the nightmare."

Lin Wuye's eyes sharpened. "I see. We will need to study this further. You'll be training under me more directly from now on. No more holding back. I will need to know how your body adapts to this"

Layla exhaled, nodding. Whatever was happening to her Qi, it wasn't going away. She could either fear it—or learn to control it.. 

--

With the cold biting at their skin, Jiang and Bao resumed their sparring. Their wooden weapons clashed, sending sharp echoes through the frozen air. Each strike was heavier than the last, the tension between them building. Bao had been improving steadily, his power increasing with each session, but Jiang had always remained one step ahead.

Until now.

With a sharp inhale, Bao shifted his stance, planting his feet firmly against the icy ground. He felt his Qi surge through his limbs, a new force bubbling within him. His next strike was different—he moved faster, struck harder, and for the first time ever, Jiang was pushed back.

Jiang's feet slid slightly against the frost-covered dirt. His eyes narrowed.

Bao didn't hesitate. He pressed forward, something surging within him—his Qi burned hotter, filling his limbs, expanding, demanding release. The moment his foot slammed into the frost-covered ground, the air around him shifted.

Then, it happened.

A deep, howling wind erupted from his body, rippling through the training grounds like the first signs of a coming storm. The frost beneath his feet fractured, thin cracks spiderwebbing outward as the pressure of his movements warped the air itself. His strikes, once powerful, now carried something far greater—something unshackled.

Lin Wuye's voice carried over the roaring wind, his tone sharp. "Roaring Tempest."

Bao had unlocked the Fourth Step.

His muscles tensed, Qi surging through every fiber of his being. The moment his next strike landed, it was no longer just a clash of weapons—it was an impact that sent a shockwave bursting outward, kicking up a spray of loose ice and dirt. Jiang, for the first time, felt himself forced backward.

The winter air, once still, now raged around them. Snow and dust spiralled wildly, carried by the sheer force of Bao's movements. Each swing of his blade felt like a storm descending, pressure folding in on itself before exploding outward. This was no longer just raw strength—it was power given form.

And for the first time, Jiang had to truly meet him head-on. Each impact forced Jiang to adjust, forced him to meet Bao's strength head-on. But Jiang was not one to be overwhelmed.

Something shifted in him as well.

Jiang adjusted his footing instinctively, his body moving without thought. The biting wind howled around them, but Jiang's strikes became sharper, denser, heavier. The moment Bao forced him to retreat, Jiang's Gale techniques changed.

It wasn't just precision anymore—it was force, pure and devastating. The Gale was no longer just about fluidity; it had become a storm contained within each step.

Lin Wuye's sharp eyes caught it instantly. "Jiang isn't just using the Gale anymore. He's reshaping it!?''

Bao didn't recognize what was happening—until their weapons met again, and he felt the impact tear through his stance.

Jiang's blade struck like a winter gale—sharp, unstoppable, and utterly destructive. The force of the clash shattered the frozen layer of earth beneath them, cracks spiderwebbing outward in jagged lines. The very air around him twisted with pressure, forming violent gusts that carried raw force rather than just speed.

Bao stumbled back, his arms trembling. "What... the hell was that?"

Jiang rolled his shoulders, exhaling steadily. "I think I just figured something out."

Lin Wuye stepped forward, his gaze filled with amazement. "Your Gale isn't just movement anymore—it's weighted. Condensed power. If before, your Step 1- Whispering Breeze was just step 1 but now the same step is equivalent to the Step 3-Gale's Kiss, if we follow by this understanding what you could do with the Step 3—"

Jiang gripped his practice sword, testing its weight. "Would hit like Step 6- Tornado's Edge."

The realization hit Bao like a brick. "That's basically cheating."

Jiang smirked. "No, that's adaptation."

Lin Wuye nodded, impressed. "This is an entirely new path within the Gale. Your strikes aren't just fast anymore—they land with enough force to break the ground beneath you. If this continues to develop…" His gaze flickered with intrigue.

"It may become something even greater than the original technique."

Bao, catching his breath, pointed his sword at Jiang. "Alright, alright. But just because I pushed you back once doesn't mean I'm done!" He steadied his stance, Qi flowing through his limbs.

"I just unlocked the tempest. Let's see if I can do it again."

Jiang grinned. "Then let's find out."

-- 3 days has passed since --

If the previous week had been cold, then today was merciless. The wind cut through the courtyard like a blade, and the frost beneath their feet had hardened into a near-solid sheet of ice. The cold didn't just bite—it seeped into their bones, slowing their movements and making even the simplest actions feel strained.

Qi flowed like water, but in conditions like these, that water turned sluggish, unresponsive. If left unchecked, the disruption in flow could be dangerous—Qi blockages could weaken the body, lead to severe exhaustion, or even cause internal damage if forced too recklessly.

Lin Wuye stood at the center of the training ground, his arms crossed as his students trembled in the freezing air.

"This is reality." he stated firmly.

"The battlefield is not flat, nor gracious. You will not always fight in perfect conditions. If you cannot adapt, you will fall."

Bao exhaled, his breath curling in the air. "So what do we do?"

Lin Wuye knelt, running his fingers lightly over the frost-covered ground. "First, you learn to breathe properly."

He then demonstrated a new breathing technique, Lotus Veil Breathing, one that slowed the exhale and distributed warmth through the meridians, preventing Qi stagnation. "Control the breath, and your Qi will follow."

Bao picked it up instantly, his body adjusting to the flow naturally. He stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Oh yeah, this feels nice. Meilin, you getting this?"

Layla, however, was not getting it.

"I am breathing from my core!'' she wheezed, her Qi still sluggish despite her best efforts.

Jiang, surprisingly, was struggling too. "It's like trying to push through mud." he muttered.

A small voice cut through their complaints. "I-I think I'm doing it!"

All eyes turned to Zhu Fen, the youngest disciple, who was visibly shaking from the cold but still maintaining the breathing rhythm. His face was red, and his hands trembled, but his Qi flow remained stable.

Jiang blinked. "Wait, how—"

"I'm just… following what you did, Senior Jiang." Zhu Fen admitted.

"But slower. And… I tried imagining warmth instead of forcing it."

Lin Wuye nodded approvingly. "A good method. Perhaps you should take notes, Jiang."

Jiang groaned. "I just got lectured by an eleven-year-old."

Bao laughed. "Nah, you got outperformed by an eleven-year-old."

Layla sighed, watching Zhu Fen continue his breathing. "Alright, fine. Let's try this again."

With their Qi circulation improving, Lin Wuye moved onto the next phase of training.

Adapting to the Terrain

"The battlefield is never still," he reminded them. "Ice, mud, rain, unstable ground—your movements must adapt to whatever is beneath you. Otherwise, your enemy won't need to defeat you. The terrain will do it for them."

They started with footwork drills on the icy surface, and within minutes, it became very clear who was struggling.

Jiang adapted instantly, his low stances and precise weight distribution keeping him balanced.

Bao, on the other hand, confidently rushed forward—

And immediately skidded into a tree.

Meyu winced. "Oof."

Bao groaned from the snow. "I hate this training."

Zhu Fen, meanwhile, was taking slow, careful steps, copying Jiang's movements with unwavering focus.

Layla, despite herself, was impressed.

The kid was stubborn.

Lin Wuye continued pushing them, forcing them to adjust their stances, their weight distribution, their footing. By the time they were done, even Bao could admit the lesson was necessary.

"Fine." he grumbled. "I see the value in not falling on my ass."

Jiang patted his shoulder. "You're growing. I'm so proud of you."

Bao shoved him. "Shut up."

The freezing temperatures weakened metal, making their weapons brittle. The issue became glaringly obvious when Meyu, who had been assisting with supplies, called out in frustration, holding up a snapped sword. "

We keep losing weapons to this damn cold!"

Hearing the commotion, Layla, Jiang, and Lin Wuye approached the gathered workers, all of whom were frowning at a pile of cracked and chipped blades. Layla's expression mirrored theirs—this was a major problem. Swords that couldn't hold an edge, staffs that risked splintering in mid-strike—in real combat, this could mean death.

Jiang crossed his arms. "We can't just coat everything in Qi nonstop. That'll drain anyone too fast."

Layla thought for a moment. "Maybe there's a way to reinforce the weapons? Like a protective layer—something to keep the metal from becoming too brittle."

The workers exchanged looks, clearly considering it.

"Or..." Meyu suddenly cut in, her tone far too nonchalant. "We could just heat the weapons before use and store them properly. You know. Like normal people."

Layla blinked. "...What?"

One of the workers sighed. "Yeah, we already figured that out, Sect Leader. We built insulated storage racks and keep them near the forge. We just called you guys over 'cause it was funny watching you frown so hard."

Layla stared at them. Jiang exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. Lin Wuye, ever the composed master, simply nodded in approval. "A simple yet effective solution."

Meyu slapped Layla's back with a grin. "Look at that. You overcomplicated things again."

Layla groaned, muttering, "I'm never living this down, am I?"

Meyu smirked. "Nope."

Before Layla could complain further, she turned to her father. "How long until this brutal cold settles down?"

Lin Wuye, arms crossed, eyed the frost-covered courtyard. "A few more weeks at most. This is the harshest part of the season. After that, the worst should pass."

Layla exhaled, watching her breath curl into the air. "We're lucky to have Master Daokan and Atlas make that deal for the sect. And Meyu, with her oversight." She glanced at her friend.

"What's the next step, then?"

Meyu's grin widened in an all-too-familiar way. "Oh, I'm glad you asked!" She dramatically pulled out the contract, flipping through the parchment before slamming a finger onto a tiny clause at the bottom. "We're going to turn the Silver Lotus Sect into an attraction spot and commercialize our martial arts style!"

Layla, Jiang, and Lin Wuye visibly recoiled.

"Absolutely not!" Lin Wuye said flatly.

"Over my dead body." Jiang added.

"I refuse to turn the sect into some tourist gimmick!" Layla snapped.

Meyu, unfazed, tapped the contract again. "Ah, but behold! This tiny little clause here says the Ryl Trading Company reserves the right to monetize the sect if needed for survivability."

Jiang squinted. "That's barely readable. How small is that writing?"

Meyu grinned, holding up her fingers. "Size 4 script. Just enough to be legal!"

Layla groaned. "Meyu, I swear—"

Meyu clapped her hands together. "Don't worry! It's just a minor adjustment. A little training hall here, a demonstration there—maybe a few guided tours! Just imagine: 'Come witness the legendary Silver Lotus Sect! Live battles! Exclusive lessons! And a chance to dine with the sect leader!'"

Layla buried her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare."

Lin Wuye's expression darkened. "We cannot simply give away the sect's techniques. They have been passed down for generations."

Jiang nodded firmly. "Yeah, this is our legacy. We're not selling it."

Meyu gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if personally offended. "Do I look like some money-hungry fraud to you?" She then blinked.

"Wait—don't answer that."

Layla, arms crossed, eyed her warily. "Then what exactly are you suggesting?"

Meyu's grin stretched wider. "We don't give away the techniques. We just… train people with our martial arts."

Jiang frowned. "Isn't that the same thing?"

Meyu clicked her tongue. "Of course not. Think about it! We make them pay for exclusive training sessions—but, and here's the genius part, we only teach them the basics. Just enough for them to want more but not enough to actually learn the full techniques."

Lin Wuye rubbed his forehead. "This is ridiculous. It's basically a scam but legal"

Jiang sighed. "I don't like this."

Meyu, completely ignoring them, unfurled the contract dramatically, pointing to a specific section in exaggerated fashion. "Behold! The tiny clause that says, and I quote, 'Ryl Trading reserves the right to ensure the sect survivability by any means'''

Layla squinted. "That's… really tiny."

Jiang leaned in. "That's basically microscopic."

Meyu wagged her finger. "Legally binding microscopic."

Lin Wuye exhaled. "This is foolishness."

Layla sighed. "You're just like Atlas."

Meyu threw an arm around Layla, grinning. "Ah, you understand me so well. So, we all agree, right?"

The three of them exchanged glances before collectively groaning.

"Fine." Layla muttered. "But if this turns into a disaster—"

"It won't!" Meyu interrupted cheerfully, clapping her hands. "Now, let's talk pricing!"