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... the chorus of the day. My fellow disciples towered like sturdy pines while I, a willow, bent and flickered in their shadows. Each day was a test of mettle I seemed destined to fail.

"Disciple Zhu, your strikes must have the force of a tempest, not the tickle of a breeze," Instructor Liang chided, though not unkindly. His eyes held the glint of hope, but I knew better. In the realm of martial prowess, I was a faltering step behinda second-class disciple in title and in truth.

Yet, ...

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