As the figures vanished,
the silence grew heavier.
Wu Tian stood still.
His body was calm, but something inside had settled —
That man was his master now.
He turned to walk back.
But just as he stepped forward, voices broke through the trees.
His friends emerged.
Seeing them hit him like light breaking through a storm.
In that moment, all the weight lifted.
They weren't just friends. They were his people.
But then he saw the bruises.
Cuts. Swollen skin. Red-blue marks that told stories too familiar.
Wu Tian's expression shifted.
Still on the surface… but burning underneath.
One of the boys looked at him and tried to smile —
but the smile was broken.
Wu Tian asked,
"Who did this?"
The boy lowered his eyes.
"Li Shan… hit us again. Like we're just toys to him."
Wu Tian didn't respond.
His eyes weren't on the bruises anymore —
they were looking beyond,
at a path… a fire… a reckoning.
Another friend spoke gently,
"Come on. Let's go home. It's late."
He nodded.
Because now… it was time to prepare.
He returned.
Closed the door.
Didn't light a lamp. Just sat down —
still, centered, sinking into himself.
Nine Star Body Art. For the first time.
His breath deepened.
Blood warmed.
Energy stirred like a rising tide.
Something was being born inside him —
raw, unstable, alive.
When he opened his eyes,
he wasn't the same Wu Tian anymore.
He stepped outside.
Faced a tree.
Raised his fist… and struck.
The punch landed deep.
The bark split.
A mark burned into the wood — like a signature.
He stood there for a while,
looking at his own hand —
as if the answer had been hiding in it all along.