Yan gathered qi and followed the first breath. The first burst carried him to the second plinth. His foot landed squarely, and the method’s strain became a smooth strength through his legs.
The air under him was cool over the pit. He saw the next stone’s pale edge and set his weight on it. The method did not ask him to force his legs through pain. Its cost opened into warmth and support, each burst leaving his knees more responsive than before. He felt the sequence as three easy decisions: gather, land, turn.
He did not pause. The second burst placed him beside the raised platform. The third sent him across before Wei had finished turning around.
His body stayed centered over each landing. He saw the offsets before they arrived and met them without fighting his own momentum. The last burst did not drag his knees forward or wrench his heels out of line. The method’s force traveled cleanly through the movement, carrying him to the platform in three quick beats.
Yan grabbed the brass token and landed on the broad stone with a laugh. He felt no tearing pain in his tendons, no weakness gathering in his knees. The qi had gone where the scroll promised, and the method’s cost had become balanced strength.
