At first, the villagers thought it was pointless.
Jiang Chen did not have them wield swords or train in combat forms. Instead, he instructed them in unexpected ways.
He made the blacksmith's apprentices practice hammering iron with their eyes closed—learning to listen to the sound of their strikes.
He taught the hunters to move silently through the village—not to avoid being seen, but to understand the rhythm of movement.
He made the farmers balance pots of water on their backs while walking—forcing them to correct their posture and footwork.
"This is ridiculous," one man muttered after nearly spilling a bucket over himself.
Jiang Chen only smiled. "Would you say the same if I told you these were training techniques once used in an ancient martial sect?"
The man hesitated.
"Martial sects train their bodies. But they also train their minds," Jiang Chen said. "Discipline. Control. These are the roots of strength."
Little by little, the villagers began to change.
Their footwork grew steadier. Their grip on tools became firmer, more precise. Their eyes sharpened, their movements grew more efficient.
And all the while, Jiang Chen never once gave them a sword.
Because he wasn't training them to be warriors. He was training them to be… something else.
Something stronger.
Unbeknownst to Jiang Chen, the rumors were spreading.
Travelers who passed through Falling Lotus Village took note of the changes.
"The farmers there move like trained warriors."
"A blacksmith's apprentice deflected a falling ember with the grace of a swordmaster."
"Even the children run as if they have practiced footwork for years."
And at the heart of it all… was the Hidden Sage.
Meanwhile, Beyond the Hills…
Deep within a forest clearing, the Iron Fang Sect regrouped.
Their leader, the scarred man, paced in frustration. "We were made fools of."
A cloaked figure stood before him, watching with cold amusement.
"Your men fled from a single mortal village?" the figure asked, voice dripping with mockery.
The leader's jaw tightened. "You weren't there. That man… he is not normal."
The cloaked figure smirked. "Then perhaps it's time someone more… fitting paid him a visit."
The air grew heavy.
The leader's expression darkened. "Who?"
The figure stepped forward, revealing a silver medallion with a dragon carved into its surface.
"The Celestial Pavilion has taken an interest in your little sage," the figure said.
The scarred man stiffened. Even he knew that name.
The Celestial Pavilion was not a mere sect. It was a faction of cultivators who answered only to the highest authorities—the ruling immortal families, the hidden elites of the cultivation world.
And if they had turned their attention toward the Hidden Sage…
It meant that Jiang Chen was no longer just a mystery.
He was a threat.