The first rays of dawn stretched over the academy grounds, casting long shadows over the training fields. Mel Long had always avoided mornings like this in his past life.
Too cold. Too early. Too much effort.
But now?
He welcomed the stillness, the crisp air filling his lungs as he settled into a steady rhythm of movement. His feet moved in precise, controlled steps, each shift in his stance calculated. His breath synced with his strikes, exhaling with each motion.
Qi flowed through his meridians—smoother now than it had been the day before.
One step. A strike. Another step. A pivot. Breathe. Adjust. Refine.
His focus was absolute, honed by a lifetime of mistakes.
He barely noticed the first set of eyes on him.
"What the hell is he doing?"
A voice, distant but curious. Mel didn't break his rhythm. The words barely reached him. He was used to whispers, to doubt.
It didn't matter.
Still, he caught movement at the edge of his vision—a small gathering of students had paused on their way to morning drills, whispering among themselves. They weren't watching with respect.
They were watching because this was strange.
Because Mel Long—spoiled, arrogant, wasteful Mel Long—was training.
And training seriously.
Si Yue's Perspective: A Subtle Shift
Si Yue hadn't intended to stop.
She had walked this path a hundred times before, always early to the training grounds, always ahead of the others. It was routine. It was discipline.
And then she saw him.
She knew it was Mel Long before she even looked.
In the past, this same courtyard would have been filled with his boastful voice, his presence as a distraction rather than a competitor. He would have lounged in the shade, watching others train while laughing at their effort.
But this was different.
His stance was firm. His strikes were crisp, practiced, refined in a way that didn't belong to someone who had only just started taking things seriously. This wasn't casual effort. This wasn't for show.
This was intentional.
Her brow furrowed.
"Since when did he start training like this?"
Beside her, a student scoffed. "It's probably just an act. Give it a few days, he'll get bored."
Si Yue didn't respond immediately. That's what she wanted to believe. That's what made sense.
But as she watched the precision of his movements, the unwavering control in his expression, the complete absence of arrogance in his posture…
A small, quiet thought crept into her mind.
What if it wasn't an act?
She shook the thought away, clicking her tongue. "Hmph. Doesn't matter."
She moved past, but she knew she would be paying more attention from now on.
An Unexpected Exchange: First Signs of Influence
After nearly two hours, Mel finally slowed, exhaling as he let his body settle. Fatigue tugged at his muscles, but his Qi felt refined, controlled.
He turned, taking a brief moment to acknowledge his surroundings.
Some students had already left, but a handful remained, lingering nearby.
One in particular—a young man, slightly shorter than Mel, with an athletic build and bruised knuckles—stood apart from the others. He wasn't watching with mockery or amusement like the others.
His stance was tense, uncertain.
Mel recognized him—one of the lesser-known students, someone often overlooked. He had talent, but no backing. No one took him seriously.
The kind of person Mel had ignored completely in his past life.
Now, Mel just wiped sweat from his brow and spoke casually.
"You've been standing there a while. Do you need something?"
The student blinked, caught off guard by the directness. "I—uh, no. Just…" He hesitated. "I was just wondering what form you were practicing."
Mel studied him.
The old him would have laughed this off or dismissed the question outright. Instead, he simply nodded.
"It's a precision-based footwork technique. Better for countering than attacking."
The student frowned slightly. "Countering? Doesn't that mean you're already at a disadvantage?"
Mel smirked. "Depends. If your opponent is predictable, all their strength is meaningless. If they throw a hundred punches and miss all of them, what did they gain?"
The student was silent for a moment, then muttered, "Huh. Never thought of it that way."
A pause. Mel could see the hesitation in his eyes, the uncertainty. He had probably heard rumors about him, knew his reputation.
So instead of pushing further, Mel simply shrugged.
"Try it sometime. You might find it useful."
And just like that, he walked past the student, leaving him to think about it.
He wasn't recruiting yet.
But he was planting seeds.