Chapter 3 — The Lotus Pavilion Opens
The morning of the Lotus Pavilion Testing Day arrived wrapped in soft mist and the faint chill of early spring. Dew clung to the grass like scattered glass beads, shimmering under the first touches of sunlight. Birds stirred restlessly in the branches above, and the distant hum of villagers preparing for the yearly event drifted across Willowleaf Village like a restless breeze.
Ling Tian stepped out of his hut slowly, careful of his breath, careful of his balance. His body always felt fragile when the cold lingered, but today… it felt heavier. Not from weakness, but from the memories that had settled inside him—two lives compressed into one thin frame.
He tugged at his worn clothes, smoothing wrinkles that couldn't be smoothed, and tried to calm his mind.
Today was the day the village's youth would be tested again by the Lotus Pavilion delegation. A day of possibility for some. A day of humiliation for others.
A day that had always been a wound for him.
He inhaled slowly.
Footsteps approached.
"Tian?"
Yun Xinya's soft voice broke through the morning haze. She came running toward him with a small cloth pouch secured to her waist, her breath forming tiny clouds in the cool air. The early light softened her features, turning her eyes into warm pools of dark amber.
She stopped just inches from him, hands pressed to her knees as she caught her breath.
"You… you're already awake? I was going to knock."
Ling Tian offered her a faint smile. "I woke up early."
Xinya's eyes moved over his face, searching for signs of illness, injury, or fatigue—the things she always checked for because someone had to.
"You don't look well," she murmured. "Did you sleep enough?"
"Enough," he lied gently.
She frowned but didn't argue. She had learned long ago that Tian never complained, even when he should.
Xinya straightened, brushing stray hair behind her ear. "Let's go together. I don't want you walking alone when you're still… you know."
Crippled.
Too weak.
Barely able to stand on cold mornings.
She never said the words, but they hovered in the air like shadows.
Ling Tian nodded and followed her.
The village center was unusually lively. Stalls had been cleared, leaving a wide open space where a large wooden stage had been erected. Colorful banners fluttered in the wind, and a carved plaque with faded lotus petals hung above the Pavilion's insignia.
Villagers gathered in clusters, chatting excitedly. Children chased each other through the crowd, while parents watched with hopeful eyes. A few visiting cultivators in simple robes stood near the testing stones, observing.
Then the whispers started.
"There he is."
"The cripple came again."
"Does he still hope for a miracle?"
"What a waste of space."
Xinya stiffened beside him. He felt her body tense, her hand tightening into a fist.
"Don't listen to them," she muttered. Her voice trembled with barely restrained anger. "They don't know anything."
Ling Tian glanced at her, warmth flickering in his chest. "I'm fine."
She shook her head. "You always say that."
He didn't reply.
At the center of the stage stood Elder Mo, the most senior cultivator in the village. His gray hair was tied behind his head, his robes pressed neatly despite their age. His posture was rigid, aura steady—Elementary Spirit, Level 4.
Not powerful by worldly standards, but in the eyes of a poor village, he was a mountain.
Elder Mo lifted his cane and struck the wooden floor once.
The crowd quieted instantly.
"Villagers," he began, voice loud and cold, "today marks our annual assessment for the Lotus Pavilion. Our children and youths will be tested once more to determine their cultivation potential and possibly earn support from the Pavilion."
He paused, sweeping his gaze over the crowd.
"Talent is Heaven's gift. Mediocrity is expected. But those with no spiritual foundation…" His eyes landed on Ling Tian. "They should not waste the Pavilion's time."
A cold weight settled in Tian's stomach.
Xinya took a step forward, whispering angrily, "That old—"
Ling Tian gently touched her arm. "Don't."
Her jaw clenched, but she stayed silent.
Testing began.
One by one, children aged eight to ten stepped onto the stage and placed their hands on the qi-measuring stone. Light flickered in varying colors—blue for water affinity, green for wood, yellow for earth. Parents clapped, cheered, or sighed depending on the brightness.
Then the youths lined up.
A tall boy named Hai Lin placed his hand on the stone. Bright yellow light surged forth, stronger than most, crackling faintly at the edges.
"Earth affinity, High stability," Elder Mo announced proudly. "Elementary Spirit Level 2 potential."
Hai Lin grinned smugly as villagers applauded.
Then came Yun Xinya.
She stepped onto the stage with hesitant steps, casting one nervous glance at Tian. He nodded encouragingly.
Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the stone.
Green light flared instantly—soft at first, then deepening into a vibrant glow with faint golden edges. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"A strong Wood affinity," Elder Mo declared, stroking his beard. "Stable and bright. This girl may reach True Spirit Realm one day."
Xinya exhaled shakily as the villagers clapped and murmured with admiration.
Ling Tian smiled despite the ache inside him.
She stepped down the stage and quickly returned to his side, face flushed with shy pride.
"Tian… did you see?"
"You did great," he said softly.
She bit her lip, fighting a smile.
Then Elder Mo's voice cut through the air.
"Ling Tian."
The crowd stirred. Whispered chuckles spread among the villagers.
Xinya immediately grabbed Tian's sleeve. "You don't need to go, you know. No one—"
"It's alright." He offered her a small, reassuring smile. "I want to."
It wasn't for himself.
It was because she wanted him to stand proudly beside her, even if only for a moment.
He walked toward the stage slowly, feeling every stare like a needle against his skin.
Elder Mo looked down at him with an expression caught between pity and disdain.
"Place your hand."
Ling Tian nodded and laid his palm on the stone.
Cold.
Still.
Silent.
Seconds passed.
Whispers turned into snickers.
Elder Mo cleared his throat loudly. "As expected. No reaction. No spiritual root activation. At eighteen years old, this is more than enough proof."
His voice hardened.
"You are a cripple. Step aside."
Laughter broke out. Hai Lin smirked openly.
Ling Tian lowered his hand and turned to step down.
But before he could move—
Xinya stormed forward.
"Enough!" she shouted, voice cracking. "You humiliate him every year! He works harder than all of you combined! Why do you keep treating him like trash?"
The crowd went silent.
Xinya's eyes blazed with anger, her small frame trembling.
"He's not useless! He's not a burden! He—"
"Silence!" Elder Mo snapped. "Watch your tongue, girl. I tolerate your talent because you show potential, but even talent is wasted when tied to dead weight."
Dead weight.
Xinya flinched as if struck.
Ling Tian felt something cold bloom in his chest.
Elder Mo's gaze sharpened. "If you wish to rise, you must cut off what drags you down. A cripple with no root—what future does he have? None."
The words struck him deeply, even though he had expected them.
Elder Mo lifted his cane.
"You are distracting the Pavilion with foolishness. Step back."
And with a flick of spiritual energy—gentle by cultivator standards but crushing to someone like Tian—a wave of force slammed into him.
He hit the ground hard.
"Tian!" Xinya screamed.
She rushed to him, shielding his body with her own, glaring up at Elder Mo with eyes full of fury and fear.
"How dare you!" she choked. "He didn't do anything!"
Elder Mo snorted. "Your loyalty is misplaced, child. You should not waste tears on someone who will never cultivate."
Ling Tian remained on the ground, not from pain but from the heaviness in his heart.
Xinya knelt beside him, cupping his cheek with trembling hands. "Tian, look at me. Are you hurt? Can you stand?"
He forced a small smile. "I'm alright…"
Her eyes filled with tears she tried desperately not to shed. "Don't lie. You always lie when you're hurting…"
The crowd dispersed slowly—some amused, others indifferent.
Only Xinya stayed.
She helped him up, supporting his weight carefully, as if afraid he might break if she touched him too hard.
They walked away from the stage in silence. The world around them moved on as though nothing had happened.
When they reached the edge of the village path, Xinya stopped.
Her breath hitched.
Then the dam broke.
"Tian…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Why do they do that to you? Why does none of it matter to them? You're not useless… you're not…"
Her hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt.
"I hate it! I hate how they look at you. I hate how they treat you like you're nothing. Why don't you get angry? Why don't you fight back? Why do you just take it?"
Tian looked at her—not at the tears, but at the pain behind them.
The pain she carried for him.
The pain she swallowed for him.
He lifted a hand to her cheek and wiped her tears gently.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
She shook her head wildly. "Don't apologize. Just… just don't pretend it doesn't hurt."
He didn't.
It hurt more than anything.
But what hurt more was seeing her hurt because of him.
Xinya leaned forward until her forehead touched his chest, her hands trembling as they clung to his clothes.
"You're the only person I have," she whispered brokenly. "If they take your hut… if they make you leave… I won't have anyone left."
Ling Tian's heart twisted painfully.
He wrapped an arm around her and held her close.
"You won't lose me," he murmured. "I promise."
She stayed in his arms until her breathing steadied.
Only then did she pull away, wiping her cheeks quickly. "Let's go home. I'll make food. You need rest."
He nodded.
They walked side by side, but their hands brushed occasionally—small, delicate touches that lingered longer than necessary.
Later that evening, after Xinya left reluctantly with the promise to return at dawn, Ling Tian sat alone in the dim glow of his candle.
The hut felt smaller tonight.
Colder.
But the world outside… felt different.
Everything that happened weighed heavily on him—the humiliation, the cruelty, the pain in Xinya's trembling voice.
He closed his eyes, letting his past and present settle together.
He saw his past self—running from silence, drowning in meaningless nights, never cherishing anyone.
He saw Xinya—giving everything she had to him. Protecting him. Crying for him.
He pressed a hand to his chest.
The warmth stirred faintly once more.
A pulse.
A promise.
A reminder.
He wasn't meant to live weak forever.
He wasn't meant to stay powerless.
Slowly, he began the basic breathing technique he had always failed. His body trembled. His breath faltered. Pain carved through his chest.
But he pushed on.
Every inhale felt like broken glass.
Every exhale felt like sand scraping his lungs.
Then—
Something flickered inside him.
Not qi.
Not spiritual energy.
But resonance.
A soft heartbeat deep within his sealed constitution.
He gasped as warmth rippled outward, faint but real.
The Eternal Unity Body.
Still sealed…
but awakening inch by inch.
He opened his eyes, chest heaving.
His body was still weak.
Still frail.
Still a cripple to the world.
But something had changed.
Something irreversible.
Ling Tian wiped the blood from his lip and exhaled shakily.
No matter how much it hurt…
no matter how far he had to go…
he would walk this path.
For Xinya.
For himself.
For the promise he once made in a life now gone.
Outside his window, the moon rose slowly above the treetops.
Tian stared at it, his eyes reflecting both pain and growing resolve.
"I won't let her protect me alone anymore," he whispered into the darkness.
The warmth in his chest pulsed once—soft, encouraging.
Ling Tian closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would be hard.
The days ahead would be cruel.
But he would rise.
Even if slowly.
Even if painfully.
Even if the whole world stood against him.
Because for the first time, he wasn't just living.
He had something worth living for.
And he would not let it slip away.