Dust scattered beneath their feet.
Lin Hao and Qingyue moved like twin streaks of light, exchanging strikes at speeds the eye could barely follow. Each movement was precise—each clash of hands and feet sent subtle shockwaves into the surrounding trees.
Their spar stretched over the training grounds behind Master Yuan's villa. Qingyue twisted through the air, her palm glowing with residual energy as she landed softly, sweat glistening on her forehead.
Lin Hao grinned. "You broke through."
Qingyue wiped a strand of hair from her cheek, still catching her breath. "I did."
He stepped forward, nodding in approval. "The Phoenix Movement—perfected."
Her cheeks colored slightly. "Brother Lin Hao… it's only thanks to your notes. Without them, I never would have reached this stage."
Her voice was quiet, almost shy. Her eyes, however, held the same clarity and confidence she had built over years of training.
Qingyue had grown into the kind of beauty rarely seen outside the scrolls of old cultivator tales. Her jade-like skin, graceful posture, and bright, determined eyes made her presence captivating. Her hair, dark and flowing like silk, shimmered beneath the sun. Even among the daughters of noble families, she stood apart.
Lin Hao, on the other hand, had grown tall and broad-shouldered. His features had sharpened—cool, serious eyes under thick brows, a clean-cut jaw, and calloused hands from years of physical training. He carried a quiet pressure, one that others felt without needing to see his strength.
A cough broke the silence.
Master Yuan approached from the porch. "Well done, both of you," he said, folding his hands behind his back. "You're no longer children playing at martial arts."
He turned to Qingyue. "Your father will return tomorrow."
Qingyue's eyes widened. "Father?"
Yuan nodded. "After thirteen years stationed on the northern frontier, the beast tides have settled. He'll arrive before noon."
Qingyue looked away, her expression complicated—surprise, relief, and something softer.
"You should come tomorrow," Yuan added, this time glancing at Lin Hao. "He'll want to meet you."
Qingyue's face lit up red again. She quickly bowed, mumbled something incoherent, and disappeared into the villa.
Master Yuan chuckled. "You should head home for today."
Lin Hao bowed. "Yes, Master."
—
At home, warm light spilled from the windows. His father was seated in the courtyard, sharpening a training blade. His mother was folding clothes nearby, and his little sister was practicing hand forms under the tree.
"Welcome back," his father said, smiling.
Lin Hao sat beside him.
Twelve years.
His father had become a true body cultivator, reaching the Organ Reinforcement Stage after years of dedication and medicinal support. His frame had broadened, and the constant fatigue he once wore had disappeared.
His mother had also trained—not with the same intensity, but with determination that surprised everyone. She had reached the Flesh Refinement Stage, something that wouldn't have been possible without years of herb baths and care.
And then there was his sister, Lin Yue.
She was only thirteen but had started cultivation at six. Her foundation was solid. She had already reached the Bone Strengthening Stage, which placed her above most adult guards in the city.
Lin Hao looked inward.
His own body cultivation had reached the peak of the Marrow Washing Stage. Only one step—accumulation—remained before he would advance to the Iron Body Realm.
His mind cultivation had gone even further.
Thanks to the resonance with Qingyue, the golden-grade core, and access to a trove of ancient relics, he had reached the Will Projection Stage, the fourth of the recognized mental realms.
His master stood at the sixth.
Lin Hao clenched his fist.
Everything they had built—his family's progress, his own cultivation, the knowledge gained from relics and training—it had all been worth it.
He looked at his family.
They were no longer victims.
They were cultivators now.