Blossoming Path

Sweat dripped down my temple as I lunged forward, my palm alight with the faint red glow of the Heavenly Flame Mantra. The heat wasn’t intense enough to burn, but it was enough to make the air shimmer faintly around my hand. I poured everything I had into the strike, aiming squarely for Feng Wu’s chest.

And just like the first time we sparred, he sidestepped effortlessly.

Before I could recover, he pivoted and delivered a light tap to my back with his palm. A reminder that he could have ended the match there if he wanted to. I stumbled forward, catching myself before hitting the ground, and spun around to face him again. My frustration bubbled to the surface.

"You're kidding me," I muttered, breathing hard. "This is just like last time. Are you even trying?"

Feng Wu smiled, his posture relaxed as if this was all just a warm-up for him. "Oh, I’m trying, Kai. It’s impressive you’re even standing, let alone sparring, Kai. Not many people could take the kind of beating you did from Wei Long and be back to training days later. It’s alright to be a step behind.”

His words stung, not because they were untrue, but because they were entirely accurate. I could feel it in every exchange. But it wasn’t just that.

During our first spar, if it could really be called that—the gap between us had been insurmountable; his speed and finesse had made my every move feel clumsy and telegraphed. But now, even though my power, speed, and technique had undeniably improved, something else had changed.

Something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I lunged again, this time feinting left before spinning into a sweeping strike with my glowing palm. Feng Wu leaned back effortlessly, evading the arc of my attack with a movement so smooth it was almost insulting. As I pressed forward, trying to follow up, I noticed it.