**Chapter 2: Tranquil Skies and Daily Trials**
The storm had passed.
Morning light gently crept into the quiet chamber, painting the room in hues of gold. Jian stirred from his sleep, his eyes heavy with the remnants of slumber. The wooden beams of the ceiling above him seemed to hum with life as sunlight streamed through the cracks in the walls. The faint, yet familiar smell of damp earth lingered in the air, a reminder of the heavy rain that had soaked the sect grounds the previous evening.
Jian sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. The storm clouds that had unsettled him the day before were nowhere to be seen. Instead, a blue sky stretched endlessly above, framed by the open window. The early morning birds sang their usual song, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Jian found peace in the mundane sounds around him.
He rose from his straw mat, stretched out his stiff limbs, and took a deep breath. Yesterday's strange, unsettling feeling was nothing but a shadow now, dissipated with the passing storm. The sect's grounds were bustling, as they always were in the mornings. The quiet rustle of leaves, the occasional clang of swords, and the low hum of disciples chatting softly as they passed through the courtyards—it was all part of the Celestial Blade Sect's rhythm. A rhythm Jian had long grown accustomed to.
The robe of a blade bearer, though simple and modest, hung on the rack by the window. Jian dressed quickly, tightening the black sash around his waist before reaching for his sword. He wasn't fond of it—an ordinary, uninspired blade. The metal was dull in the light, lacking the gleam of the weapons the senior disciples carried. One day, Jian hoped to earn a sword worthy of his ambitions. But for now, this basic weapon was a reflection of his current standing.
As Jian strapped the blade to his waist, he glanced out the window again. The sun had fully risen, casting long shadows over the stone paths that crisscrossed the sect grounds. Jian hesitated, recalling the eerie darkness of the clouds from yesterday. There had been something unnerving about them, as though they had carried more than just rain. He shook the thought away. It was nothing. Just a passing storm, like Liu had said.
He made his way to the courtyard, where other low-ranking disciples had already begun their morning drills. The training grounds stretched wide, filled with the sounds of wooden swords clashing against one another, the grunts of effort, and the sharp commands of instructors overseeing the sessions. Despite their ranks, even the blade bearers had to practice diligently—no one was exempt from the demands of the sect's rigorous training schedule.
"Jian! Over here!"
A familiar voice called out. Jian turned to see Liu approaching, a wide grin on his face, as usual. Liu, with his carefree attitude and boundless energy, was a constant presence in Jian's life. Despite being of the same rank, Liu never seemed to take his duties as seriously as Jian did.
"You're late," Liu remarked with a playful smirk, though there was no malice in his tone.
"Morning, Liu," Jian said, falling into step beside him. "Looks like the storm passed without any real trouble."
"Told you it was nothing," Liu replied, tapping the hilt of the wooden practice sword he carried. "The clouds just wanted to show off a bit. You looked way too serious about it yesterday."
Jian shrugged, his gaze shifting to the sky. "Maybe I was overthinking it."
The courtyard was alive with activity as disciples of varying ranks practiced in different sections. Jian and Liu made their way to their designated area, where other blade bearers were preparing for the morning drills. Though they were of the lowest rank in the sect, they still held a certain level of respect. Every member of the Celestial Blade Sect, no matter their rank, had a role to play.
Jian began his drills, practicing the basic sword forms he had repeated countless times before. His movements were precise, but there was always a lingering sense of inadequacy. Each swing of the sword was a reminder of how far he had to go, how distant the path to mastery truly was.
Liu, on the other hand, seemed to treat the drills as a casual exercise. His form was sloppy, and his strikes lacked power, but he moved with an ease that suggested he didn't particularly care.
"Elder Mu's been watching you," Liu said, glancing toward the old man who stood near the edge of the training grounds, his hands clasped behind his back.
Jian frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Don't act surprised," Liu chuckled. "He always watches the ones who try too hard."
Jian didn't respond, his focus shifting to his form once more. There was a small comfort in the repetition, in the rhythmic flow of sword and body moving as one. Even if he felt he wasn't progressing fast enough, Jian knew that each day of practice brought him closer to his goal. It had to.
The morning passed quickly, the sun climbing higher into the sky as Jian continued his drills. By midday, the heat had settled over the training grounds, and most of the disciples had retreated to the shaded areas to rest. Jian wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily as he sheathed his sword. The air was thick with the scent of dust and grass, a familiar mix that clung to the robes of every disciple.
"Hey, Jian," Liu called from under a nearby tree. He had already seated himself, leaning lazily against the trunk. "Come over here. Let's take a break."
Jian walked over, sitting beside him on the cool ground. The shade was a relief from the heat, and for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, watching the other disciples continue their training.
"Do you ever think about where we'll be in a few years?" Liu asked suddenly, his voice quieter than usual.
Jian raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, look at us," Liu gestured to the courtyard around them. "We're blade bearers now, but where do you see yourself later? Climbing the ranks, becoming an elder, or even a master?"
Jian thought for a moment, unsure of how to answer. "I don't know. I just focus on the next step. One day at a time."
Liu smiled, though there was something wistful in his expression. "That's just like you, Jian. Always focused on the present. Me? I don't think too far ahead either. Life's simpler that way."
Jian nodded, though a part of him felt a pang of uncertainty. Where did he see himself in the future? The Celestial Blade Sect was his life now, but he had no illusions about the difficulty of rising through the ranks. Still, the desire to prove himself burned within him.
As they sat there, a gentle breeze blew through the courtyard, rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. The sun had softened, casting long shadows over the sect grounds. It was peaceful, almost idyllic. For a moment, it felt as though nothing could disturb the calm of the day.
Jian closed his eyes, taking in the quiet. He would never admit it out loud, but this simplicity, this routine—it was comforting. Even if the world around him felt like it was constantly moving forward without him, there was a strange solace in the fact that today had been ordinary. No strange events, no ominous clouds—just a normal day.
Eventually, the time came for Jian and Liu to return to their duties. They spent the rest of the afternoon performing menial tasks around the sect—sweeping the training grounds, repairing wooden dummies, and assisting the more senior disciples with their own drills. It was tedious work, but Jian didn't mind. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that every day, no matter how small the tasks, he was contributing to the sect's strength.
By the time evening fell, the sect grounds were bathed in a soft, golden light. Jian walked back to his quarters, his body tired but his mind clear. The events of the day had been uneventful, but he welcomed it. After the strange feelings of yesterday, the normalcy was a relief.
As Jian lay down on his mat, he glanced out the window one last time. The sky was clear, the stars beginning to twinkle faintly against the darkening blue.
"Maybe things are finally settling down," he murmured to himself.
But as sleep began to take hold, a faint whisper of doubt flickered in his mind. How long could this peace really last?