Chapter 8

The aftermath of Li Tian's triumph carried a quiet but undeniable shift within the academy. Whispers of his unconventional yet effective methods spread among both students and teachers, sparking curiosity and debate in equal measure. More disciples began to linger near the Earth Division training grounds, their gazes hesitant but hopeful, as if drawn by the chance to witness the teacher who had turned underdogs into contenders.

Even within the faculty, the ripple had reached farther than Li Tian anticipated. Some of the younger instructors watched his sessions from a distance, their skepticism tempered by cautious interest. Others, the traditionalists who clung to the academy's rigid structures, veiled their criticisms beneath polite conversations. He was no longer an unknown presence, yet the attention brought its own weight.

This growing recognition did not sit easily with everyone. Especially not with Chen Lei, an ambitious student of the Sky Division whose sharp eyes had spent too long watching others succeed.

It was night when Chen Lei crept into the Earth Division's training grounds, his footsteps hushed against the crunch of dirt and scattered leaves. He knew this was dangerous. If his master caught him here—if anyone caught him here—it would stain his reputation and possibly anger the Sky Division elders. But the frustrations that had festered within him for years had reached a breaking point. His techniques, though polished, never seemed to achieve the results he desired. Power eluded him, just out of reach, and none of the instructors in his prestigious division seemed to notice or care enough to help.

Chen Lei had seen the matches in the public challenge. He had watched as Li Tian's students—students not even privileged enough to belong to the Sky Division—rose to defeat superior opponents. It was maddening, yes, but also… undeniable.

Li Tian's figure appeared in the moonlight, his presence calm despite the late hour. "You shouldn't be here," he remarked, his tone quiet yet firm as he stepped from the shadows of the courtyard.

Chen Lei startled but quickly regained his composure. His pride hesitated before bowing low enough to meet the Earth Division teacher's level. "Teacher Li Tian."

Li Tian didn't speak immediately, observing the young man with a calm that felt like scrutiny. The Enlightenment System flickered softly at the edges of his awareness, offering fragments of insight into Chen Lei's flaring qi and unbalanced stance.

"You're a Sky Division student." Li Tian's observation carried no malice but pointed directly to the heart of the matter. "Why are you here?"

Chen Lei hesitated. The question was simple, but saying the words aloud felt like admitting something far deeper than just his presence in this place. Finally, through gritted teeth, he replied, "I… I need your help. My methods, the training I receive—it's not… enough. I can't break through."

Li Tian remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over the request. Helping a student from another division—especially one of such standing—risked undermining the fabric of the academy itself. At best, it would spark resentment among his peers. At worst, it could escalate into outright hostility.

Yet the Enlightenment System pulsed faintly now, feeding him more details about the young man's predicament. His qi patterns were uneven, his internal energy disrupted with every attempt to refine it. The root of his imbalance wasn't technique, but something deeper—something the rigid Sky Division teachings would never address.

Li Tian folded his arms, studying Chen Lei closely before speaking. "Do you understand the consequences of what you're asking me to do?"

"I don't care," Chen Lei replied quickly, too quickly. His desperation was raw and unguarded. "If you can teach me even a fraction of what you taught your students—if you can help me grasp what I'm missing—it'll be worth it."

Li Tian sighed softly. His path as a teacher had continually demanded choices as much moral as they were practical. He knew the fallout this might provoke, but before him stood a student not only willing to learn, but to risk everything to find answers. How could he, someone devoted to the Teaching Dao, turn away from that sincerity?

"Fine," Li Tian said at last. "But remember, this is your decision. Whatever comes of it, you'll need to face the consequences of your choice."

The relief washing over Chen Lei's face was almost immediate, though he masked it behind a firm nod.

Li Tian gestured for him to sit, taking a moment to anchor himself before he began to guide. "Your imbalance isn't from a lack of discipline," he began. "It's the opposite. Your focus is too rigid, too forced. Control is valuable, but it must align with intention—and your intention is bound by fear. More importantly, it's causing your qi to resist you."

Chen Lei blinked, his expression tipping toward disbelief. No one had identified this before. Not his own teacher, not even the elders he had occasionally turned to for guidance.

Li Tian placed a smooth stone on the ground before him. "Try directing your qi through this," he instructed. "And stop focusing so hard on the result. Instead, focus on the flow. Feel the resistance."

When Chen Lei reluctantly channeled his energy, the response from the stone was immediate yet flawed—faint vibrations, a tremor with no stability. Li Tian adjusted his posture, his voice calm as water. "The resistance is your own doing. Follow the rhythm, not the push."

For what felt like hours, Li Tian guided him, the System nudging insights into every stutter of movement, every faulty flare of qi. He adjusted each detail—Chen Lei's breathing, the angle of his wrist, even his lingering hesitation as fear tried to creep back into his heart. Progress was painfully slow at first, but for the first time in years, Chen Lei felt something shift. A fragile, fleeting flow of energy began to form beneath his guidance.

"You're starting to feel it," Li Tian said, his tone measured. "Now, remember it. When your focus falters in practice, come back to this point. Build from what you know works, little by little."

Though it wasn't perfection by any stretch, Chen Lei knelt back with something resembling gratitude. "Thank you, Teacher Li." The words came softer than expected, each one heavy with reluctant respect.

"Keep practicing," Li Tian said simply, though there was a faint warmth in his voice. "We'll see where you land next time."

The next day, however, Li Tian's attention drifted toward whispers of an impending announcement from the academy elders. Small snippets of information trickled between students and faculty alike—the construction of a grand tournament, open to all divisions, designed to showcase the strength of the academy to visiting sects and dignitaries.

Li Tian stood in quiet contemplation once the whispers reached his ears. A tournament of this scale promised opportunity, but also risk. Potential allies and teaching moments awaited, as did conflicts and scrutiny from those still wary of his rise. Choosing to walk this path further would only draw more eyes to him, for better or worse.

But as he gazed at his students practicing in the distance, their determination a reflection of his own, he felt resolute. His footsteps had begun to make waves; perhaps it was time to see if those waves carried momentum enough to challenge the currents ahead.