That morning, the Clear Cloud Valley was wrapped in a thin white mist drifting slowly like the breath of the heavens. The air held a quiet purity, as though every breeze carried untouched fragments of spiritual Qi. Through the gentle veil of fog, a stone gate stood tall, carved with three grand characters: Clear Cloud.
Lin Feiyan stopped right before the gate.
He stared at the inscription for a long moment, his heartbeat pounding louder than usual. Without realizing it, he drew in a deep breath. The cold valley air brushed his lungs, carrying a freshness he had never known in the small village where he grew up. Spiritual wind brushed against his soft black hair, stirring the hem of his worn-out robe.
Everything felt new.
So vast.
As if he were a tiny speck of dust finally standing before the true world.
"From today on… I'll really begin my journey of cultivation," he whispered to himself.
He looked down at his hands. His fingers were thin and pale—hands that had only ever carried sacks of wheat or drawn water from a village well. There was nothing special about them, no sign that he had been born for greatness.
But the little dream inside him had continued to grow.
He wanted to be stronger—not to rule the world or earn glory, but simply so he would no longer be a burden… so he could protect the people precious to him, even if his world was small.
Feiyan stepped through the gate. Morning light fell on his shoulders as he entered the wide courtyard surrounded by emerald cliffs. In the distance, the sound of a waterfall echoed gently. New disciples bustled about—some excited, some nervous, some overflowing with confidence.
His robe was simple and faded, making him stand out among noble youths in clean garments and ornate belts. Still, Feiyan walked carefully, trying not to bump into anyone.
As he went farther in, the surrounding conversations became clearer.
"They say someone from the Lei Clan is joining this year. High-grade talent."
"And a child of the Yuan family as well. His spiritual core glowed at birth."
Feiyan offered a small smile, though something in his chest tightened. Not envy—just awareness of the distance between him and them.
In the center of the training ground, the new disciples lined up. A rippling formation of blue light glowed on the stone floor—a talent testing array. Several elders stood beside it, their white robes trimmed with pale blue, symbolizing the purity of the sect.
One elder stepped forward. His beard was white, but his gaze sharp, as if it could pierce into each disciple's heart.
"Begin the examination," he said softly, his calm voice echoing across the grounds.
One by one, each disciple entered the formation. Blue light rose, enveloping their bodies, and the small crystal in the elder's hand lit up to reveal their talent.
"High Talent."
"Exceptional Talent."
"Superior Talent."
Each announcement drew whispers, sighs, and admiring stares. Those with good results held back proud smiles, while others lowered their heads, discouraged.
Feiyan stood in the middle row, hands clenched tightly inside his sleeves. With each name called, his body felt weightless yet anxious, like a leaf ready to be carried away by the wind.
He listened patiently.
"Yuan Zhen. High Talent."
"Lei Shanyu. Exceptional Talent."
"Wu Ning. Moderate Talent."
Soft cheers rose. Respectful glances were exchanged. Those from powerful families already had attention before the test even began—and now their results only cemented that gap.
Feiyan swallowed and stared at the tip of his simple cloth shoes.
"I just need to know the result," he told himself. "Whatever it is… I'll just have to work harder."
Name after name passed until—
"Lin Feiyan."
His heart thudded. His steps felt both heavy and light as he moved into the formation. The blue glow wrapped around him like warm mist, examining every inch of him.
No sound came for several seconds.
The crystal in the elder's hand flickered once, then dimmed.
Silence fell.
The elder stroked the end of his beard and spoke in a flat, almost routine tone—something he'd likely said countless times every year:
"Talent… Ordinary Grade."
A brief pause followed—meaningless in length, yet long enough to jab gently at Feiyan's chest.
A few disciples behind him stifled laughter—not loud, but obvious.
"Ah… ordinary."
"No wonder his robe is worn."
"A village boy, huh?"
Feiyan bowed his head slightly—not too deeply, just enough to hide the faint blush on his cheeks. He wasn't angry. Not hurt. Just embarrassed. Just… small.
The elder nodded at him—not mockingly, not comfortingly.
"Results do not decide everything. Work hard."
Feiyan looked up and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder."
He returned to the line, feeling a few gazes fall on him—not with contempt, but a soft pity. That feeling pierced deeper than mockery.
But when he stood again, he lifted his head.
The sky above the cliffs seemed bluer than before.
He inhaled slowly. "It's fine," he murmured. "If talent isn't enough… then I'll just have to work harder than them."
He touched his chest, right over his heart.
He didn't know why he felt something small and warm throbbing faintly inside—as if trying to comfort him.
When the tests ended, the disciples were sent to their dorms. The crowd scattered, talented students gathering together, already discussing their bright futures.
Feiyan crossed a small wooden bridge. The clear river beneath carried gentle strands of Qi, its soft murmur soothing—as if the valley itself were consoling him.
He paused, staring at his reflection in the water.
It was not the face of a genius, nor someone born extraordinary.
But his eyes remained clear—still reflecting an unextinguished hope.
Feeling lighter, he headed for the beginner disciples' quarters.
The huts lined the hillside, surrounded by bamboo stems that swayed in the valley breeze. Each hut was made of pale wood, simple but clean. Golden sunlight streamed through their windows, scattering warm glimmers across the floors.
Feiyan found his hut at the very end. It was small—just a single room with a wooden bed, a short table, and an empty shelf. Yet when he pushed open the door and the evening breeze drifted inside, he felt… welcomed.
The sunlight touched the floor, lifting fine dust motes into the air as though the room itself was breathing.
He set his worn bag beside the bed and sat down, leaning against the wooden wall. Through the thin slits of the window, he could see the sky turning gold.
"This… feels warm," he murmured.
No luxury, no expensive furniture—yet the quietness felt like a comfort he hadn't realized he needed.
After resting, he sat cross-legged in the center of the room. He wanted to try meditating—his first cultivation attempt as a Clear Cloud Sect disciple. Closing his eyes, he inhaled softly, following the basic techniques he had learned from an old village book.
Qi from the valley slowly seeped into him.
But the flow was not smooth. It was like thin threads snagging on knots inside his body. Whenever he tried to draw it deeper, it stopped in his chest—blocked, as if his body wasn't fully open to it.
He tried again.
Slowly.
Patiently.
But the heaviness remained, like a thin veil obstructing his meridians.
Feiyan opened his eyes.
He wasn't disappointed. Just silent as he studied his palms.
"So this is how it feels with ordinary talent," he whispered. "It's fine… I'll try again later."
He stood, brushing dust from his knees. When he opened the door, the evening air washed over him. The sun had nearly sunk behind the cliffs, bathing the valley in a golden glow. The breeze carried the faint scent of wildflowers.
Feiyan followed a small stone path to a quieter part of the valley. Somehow, his steps led him to a small lake at the sect's center.
The Clear Dew Lake—often used by disciples for meditation. Its water reflected the sky like a polished mirror, thin wisps of Qi gliding over its surface.
As he approached, he noticed someone standing by the lake.
A girl.
She wore a pale blue dress that swayed gently in the wind. Her long black hair fell freely, clean and smooth. Her face was calm, her skin soft and pale like a newly opened lotus petal. Her eyes gazed at the lake with a depth difficult to grasp.
She seemed like part of the lake itself—quiet, clear, soundless.
Feiyan froze instinctively, feeling as though he was intruding upon something sacred.
The girl slowly turned. Their eyes met.
Her gaze was clear—neither judgmental nor proud. Just a quiet clarity that made Feiyan's heart tremble.
"…Ah," Feiyan lowered his head slightly and smiled politely. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."
The girl shook her head softly. "No. This place doesn't belong to me. You may stay."
Her voice was gentle—soft but not fragile, like flowing water. Feiyan stepped closer, keeping a respectful distance, and looked out at the lake.
Silence passed comfortably between them.
The girl suddenly spoke. "I saw the talent examination earlier."
Feiyan blinked, smiling awkwardly. "Ah… yes. Ordinary talent."
"Many people laughed."
Feiyan inhaled quietly. "Mm… that's just how it is."
"You don't look sad."
He lifted his head, surprised by the observation. He thought for a moment. "A little. But… I can try again tomorrow. And the next day. As long as I can still move, I want to keep learning."
Gao Lian stared at him for a long moment.
Her gaze wasn't sharp nor intimidating. Just observing—as though trying to understand something others could not see.
"You're strange," she said without any hint of mockery.
Feiyan laughed softly, though his cheeks warmed. "Yes… probably."
Wind brushed past again, gently stirring her long hair. She looked at Feiyan—this time more intently. Her eyes slowly drifted down… and stopped at his left chest.
Feiyan noticed. "Um… is something wrong?"
But Gao Lian didn't answer.
She stepped slightly closer—only a step, still polite, yet near enough for Feiyan to catch a faint lake-like fragrance from her clothes.
Her eyes remained fixed on his chest. The look in them had changed—no longer calm. A small spark flickered: surprise… or confusion.
Feiyan swallowed. "Um, shijie? Is something—"
"There's a light," she murmured, almost to herself. "But not like spiritual Qi… deeper. As if something is sleeping."
Feiyan froze.
He felt nothing unusual—only the heaviness from earlier training.
But Gao Lian nodded slightly, as if confirming her vision.
She stepped back lightly, her face returning to its calm state, though some confusion lingered in her eyes.
"Sorry," she said softly. "I just… saw something."
"Saw what?" Feiyan asked, puzzled.
Gao Lian turned to the lake. "Perhaps… just an illusion. I'm not sure."
She sighed softly. "I hope your training goes well, Lin Feiyan."
Feiyan smiled. "Thank you. I hope yours does too."
He bowed lightly and began to walk away. But before he got far, he heard a whisper—so faint the breeze nearly swallowed it.
"…Why is something like that… inside his heart?"
Feiyan turned. "Hm? Did you say something?"
But Gao Lian only shook her head. "It's nothing. Good night."
Feiyan smiled once more, then left.
He hadn't heard her earlier whisper. He knew nothing of the strange light. All he felt was the soft wind on his back, as if the world itself was telling him—
Your journey has only just begun.
In his chest, his heart beat slowly.
One beat.
Then another.
As though something within was beating together with it—something he had yet to notice.