Run
Run as far away as you can
That's all the boy could think about at the moment.
It was the Wu Hour, the Hour of the Horse. The boy already knew how to tell the time by following the sun's directions after being taught by some village beggars.
The young boy's name is Xiao Qing, and he has been an orphan his entire life. Walking through the streets, eating scraps, and practising basic healing and herb foraging.
He didn't know why he had such terrible luck.
He was starving, stealing some food. Who would've thought he would accidentally steal food from the bandits?
Xiao Qing doesn't know how long he has been running while ignoring the pain in his ribs.
"After him! He couldn't have gone far!"
The distant noises compelled him to keep going. If he stopped now, he would be caught by the bandits and face a fate worse than death.
He stumbled out of the bushes only to freeze when he saw a terrifying figure riding an ominous-looking black horse.
Xiao Qing stood there with an expression of fear and confusion. He kept glancing around, disoriented and scared.
Who is he?
Is he one of them?
Is he going to die?
Those thoughts were a jumble that a small 10-year-old boy like him couldn't process while high on adrenaline.
---
Ying Shouren stared down at him and silently noted that while he does have some Qi within him, at least he's not affiliated with any sect or clan.
He seemed untaught in the ways of cultivating, likely no more than a regular mortal boy.
He doesn't know that I'm a Ghost Cultivator. Better hide it for now
Ying Shouren thought. Judging by the boy's injuries, he seemed to be running away from something. . . Or someone.
"Were you being chased?" he asked with an unreadable look; his eyes were only on the foliage behind him.
Xiao Qing flinched at his question, his wide eyes focusing on the terrifying stranger. He was shocked that he was being addressed directly.
His hands gripped his tattered clothes tightly, his gaze darting back towards the bushes he had stumbled out of. His fear was evident, and Ying Shouren could sense that there was some truth to the idea of him running from something or someone.
Xiao Qing pushed through with his fragile burst of courage as he whispered softly, hoarse and and uncertain, ". . .Yes"
That was all Ying Shouren needed to know. He picked Xiao Qing up by the back of his tattered robes in one hand like a dangling kitten and flicked the reins.
"Far away, out of their sight," he commanded.
Yulong let out a sharp, approving whinny and broke into a full gallop—dust kicking up behind him as the boy dangled helplessly in his grip.
He was being kidnapped by an eerily tall stranger on horseback, and that same stranger had glowing golden eyes that definitely weren't mortal.
But Yulong didn't slow down for panic or protests; his hooves thundered over open plains with unnatural speed—leaving no trace of their path behind...
As the boy hung in his grip, Ying Shouren could feel his body trembling—either from fear or from the cold night air whipping around him. The wind tugged at your robes and tore through the boy's tattered clothes, making his small form shiver even more.
Yulong, despite his powerful form, moved with grace and speed through the open plains. The landscape blurred as he rode on, the moon the only witness to this bizarre scene.
Xiao Qing's wide eyes were fixated on Ying Shouren's face, taking in the eerie golden glow from his eyes and the cold, unreadable expression he wore.
---
After what felt like hours of travelling, Yulong finally slowed his pace—his breath coming out in short huffs as he trotted to a slow stop. The area Ying Shouren had stopped at was surrounded by dense trees and foliage, providing a secluded spot for camping.
Xiao Qing in his grip remained motionless once again. He was clearly exhausted, but he also seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for whatever was going to happen to him next. Yulong, still standing beneath him, was calm yet alert—his ears flicking and eyes sweeping the area attentively.
Once in a clear, Ying Shouren dismounted Yulong and unceremoniously dropped Xiao Qing to the ground.
Xiao Qing yelped as he hit the dirt, his scrawny limbs splaying out like a dropped ragdoll. He scrambled back on all fours—eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears—as he took in your towering form looming over him.
Yulong snorted loudly, unimpressed by the kid's dramatics.
"D-Don't kill me!" the boy blurted out, his voice cracking mid-sentence. His tiny hands clutched at his own torn sleeves like a shield, but then he froze when something clicked in his mind:
1) Ying Shouren's golden eyes weren't just unnatural—they were royalty-level terrifying
2) This wasn't some bandit or low-tier cultivator who'd grabbed him… This was someone far worse or better. . .
Ying Shouren rolled his eyes in annoyance and was about to mount Yulong again. "It doesn't matter. I'm not asking for thanks, so I'll be off now"
The boy's jaw dropped—wait, WHAT?
His tiny hands shot out in a frantic grab at your robes. "P-Please! I-I can work! I-I know how to gather herbs!!" His voice cracked into a wail, eyes watering as he realised that this terrifying ghostly stranger didn't eat him, which means this was his one shot at not being left for dead.
Yulong side-eyed the kid clinging to Ying Shouren like a barnacle and let out an unimpressed snort.
Ying Shouren frowned and pulled his robes away, but Xiao Qing's grip was too tight for a small boy like him.
Annoyed, he took out the scroll from his robes. "Scroll. What does he have? Anything"
The scroll emitted a soft glow as it began to calculate and analyse the boy.
Name: Xiao Qing
Gender: Male
Age: 10 years old
Status: Mortal Child; Low Qi
Talents & Skills: Healing, Herbology
Ying Shouren's eyes lit up. Healing and Herbology are better than nothing. He tested his hand to conjure two martial arts books with his Yin Qi if his old powers from his world were brought over with him.
With a flick of his wrist, two martial arts books manifested out of thin air. He could feel the familiar power of his Yin Qi at work—the same one that allowed him to manipulate and create from shadows.
Xiao Qing's eyes widened in shock as the martial arts books materialised out of nothing, eyes flicking back between Ying Shouren and the books in wonderment. It seemed he definitely didn't know he had that ability…
With the distraction, Ying Shouren finally pulled Xiao Qing off his robes. "Allow me to be blunt before someone else does. You have very low Qi so you have almost no hope in cultivation as those sects will turn you away at the disciple acceptance ceremony once you're older"
Xiao Qing's face fell as his words sunk in—he never expected to have any hope of being accepted by a cultivation sect to begin with, but now Ying Shouren had basically slapped him in the face with the fact that he was doomed to remain mortal, forever.
His small frame deflated, the tattered cloak looking even more pathetic on his emaciated body. He did, however, eye the martial arts books in Ying Shouren's hands with hope, though.
"Are these. . . For me?"
"I can't bring you along, but I can give you these," Ying Shouren said as he waved the books in his hands. "These two don't require Qi to master them. It can also help you with your Healing and Herbology"
The boy's eyes sparked to life—like a candle in a dark room. He reached out with both hands, his small fingers trembling as he stared at the books as if they were divine scripture.
"R-really? No Qi needed?!" His voice wavered between disbelief and desperate hope.
"The first book is called Wind Sense. It's just like Qi Sense, but you use wind currents as an alternative," Ying Shouren explained as he tossed the first book to him. "Perceive entities with your ears, even cultivators with suppressed or hidden Qi"
The boy fumbled the book for a second—nearly dropping it in his panic—before clutching it to his chest like a lifeline. His eyes darted over the first page, absorbing Ying Shouren's words with terrifying speed.
"W-Wind Sense?" he muttered, his knees wobbling slightly.
Yulong let out an exasperated huff as if saying, "Kid's gonna pass out."
Ying Shouren sighed through his nostrils in annoyance as he steadied Xiao Qing not-so-gently. "Do not pass out yet. The thing about Qi Sense is that highly perceptive cultivators can catch someone else using Qi to sense them. But with Wing Sense, you're just using wind currents and disturbances in the air to sense them. They won't be able to tell"
Xiao Qing whipped his head back up as Ying Shouren spoke, his eyes widening as he processed this. He seemed more awake now, a sense of wonder and curiosity slowly awakening in his gaze.
"N-No cultivator can know I'm sensing them... because I'm using the wind instead of Qi. Right?"
Ying Shouren waved the second book in his hand and tossed it to Xiao Qing. "The second book is a medical book. Since you have less chance of being a cultivator, you might as well be a physician with those skills of yours. There are illness entries listed here. It's connected to Wind Sense since you'll have to use it to initiate Healing on people"
Xiao Qing snatched the book out of the air with a look of pure, unadulterated glee. It seemed like this one might have been a dream come true for him.
"A. . . medical book," He mumbled to himself, fingers running over the cover reverently. As Ying Shouren mentioned the link with Wind Sense, a frown formed on Xiao Qing's forehead.
"So I need Wind Sense to heal others too?"
"You need Wind Sense to diagnose people," Ying Shouren said as he pointed at the Wind Sense book. "That is why you need to master this first"
Xiao Qing nodded in understanding—finally starting to comprehend how the two books worked in tandem.
A hint of determination flickered in his eyes. While he'd probably fail at cultivating, this he could do. He had a gift for sensing injuries… and he'd never had the tools to do anything about it before.
His hands clutching the book like it was the most precious thing in his life, Xiao Qing looked up at Ying Shouren again, face flushed but serious.
"I'll learn them," he promised softly.
Ying Shouren hummed and looked at the scroll again as he asked, "Scroll. Are there any medical sects? If yes, is there at least one that could take him in?"
The scroll unfurled with a sharp flick, glowing characters rearranging into:
Medical Sects (Few Remain) – One Matches Criteria:"
"Iron Leaf Pavilion" – Specializes in non-Qi healing arts. Accepts low-born children with herbology or diagnosis skills. No affiliation to major sects—hence ignored by most cultivators.
"Alright, brat. I'm taking you to the Iron Leaf Pavilion. You'll be better off safe there. Do not mention me to them, got it?" Ying Shouren said as he picked up Xiao Qing again by the back of his tattered robes like a dangling cat and whipped the reins on Yulong.
A startled squeal left Xiao Qing's lips as Ying Shouren picked him up like a sack of rice again. It seemed like this was rapidly becoming his least favorite way of traveling. He clutched onto the medical book and martial arts book for dear life, looking even more terrified as him gave Yulong the signal to move.
"I'll keep quiet, I promise! I won't tell them, I swear—"
Yulong set off with a trot, the boy hanging helplessly from his master's grasp like he was some kind of trophy…
---
The journey to the Iron Leaf Pavilion took the entire night—and Xiao Qing had spent it either whimpering at every bump of Yulong's gallop, or desperately trying not to fall asleep.
By the time the moon started to dip low beneath the horizon, you finally spotted something in the distance….
A sprawling compound hidden among the lush trees—with a sign that read:
"The Iron Leaf Pavilion"
Ying Shouren halted Yulong at the main gate but also far enough where the Iron Leaf disciples can't see them to avoid confrontation, and this time, placed Xiao Qing down without dropping him.
Xiao Qing gasped—finally getting a good look at the massive compound in front of him.
His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when Ying Shouren carefully placed him down. He hadn't expected to be treated gently after so many hours of hanging off Yulong like a sack of rice.
"This is…" he muttered, voice barely more than a whisper, "…the Iron Leaf Pavilion…?"
"It's the only medical sect that could take you in" Ying Shouren said. "Of course, if they ask about the books you're holding, tell them only you can see the contents of the pages. You don't have to worry about being peeked at"
Xiao Qing's eyes flickered to the books in his hands, understanding what he were hinting at. The value of having knowledge that only he could access… was massive.
A slow nod was his only response, small hands gripping the books even tighter.
Protection.
"Thank you," he murmured softly, eyes still on the compound, "… for everything."
Yulong let out a sharp, approving snort—finally free of the boy's clinging weight.
Xiao Qing stumbled back one last time before turning toward the gates, shoulders hunched with nervousness. He took two steps… then froze when a deep voice boomed from inside:
"Halt! Identify yourself!"
The boy flinched, but after Ying Shouren's glance at him—he swallowed hard and marched forward as if he owned those books.
Yulong watched Xiao Qing stumble toward the gates with a mix of disdain and vague approval.
"H-Hey! Wait!" The boy's voice cracked as he spun back around—eyes wide, face pale. "I-I don't even know your name!!"
A beat of silence passed between you two. The scroll in your robes pulsed faintly, almost. . . amused.
"Ying Shouren"
That's all Ying Shouren said, his expression unchanging.
Xiao Qing blinked at the sound of his name, the unfamiliar syllables sitting heavily on his tongue.
Meanwhile, Yulong let out an impatient whinny and flicked his tail, as if saying "And don't you forget about me!"
Before the boy could ask more questions, the voice from inside barked again:
"What are you doing at our gates, boy?!"
Xiao Qing flinched violently at the shouting, but—after a terrified glance back at you—he suddenly straightened his spine.
"I-I'm here to join!" he blurted out, voice wavering only slightly. "My name is Xiao Qing! I know herbs and healing… and these books are mine!"
He clutched them tighter as the gates creaked open just enough for a shadowy figure to peer down at him with narrowed eyes...
The figure, which appeared to be a tall, male disciple, scrutinized Xiao Qing with an unreadable stare. His gaze lingered on the books clutched tightly in the kid's arms... but there was something else in the way he watched Xiao Qing.
"You know herbs and healing but wish to join the Iron Leaf Pavilion?" the man asked, voice gruff but not hostile. "How old are you, boy?"
Xiao Qing tried to hide the slight shiver that ran through his body, doing his best to stand straight under the man's scrutinizing gaze.
"I... I'm 10 years old," he responded hesitantly, fingers clutching the books even tighter.
The man raised an eyebrow, not looking particularly impressed with Xiao Qing's age. "And you think we take in just any child with basic medical knowledge?"
Xiao Qing's confidence wavered for a moment as the man's words sunk in. The disciple's tone suggested doubt—like he doubted a child's ability to contribute.
But the hope in Xiao Qing's eyes refused to be squashed. He lifted his chin and met the man's gaze with as much courage as he could muster.
"I'm not just any child," he said, voice firm despite the slight tremor. "I have something. . . unique."
The male disciple seemed slightly taken aback by Xiao Qing's sudden bold response, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. He folded his arms, clearly interested enough to hear the boy out.
"Oh? What is this 'unique' thing you have, boy?" he asked, eyes narrowing again with skepticism.
A glimmer of determination flashed in Xiao Qing's eyes as he lifted the books in his arms, holding them up towards the disciple.
"These books," he began, voice gaining confidence with each word. "They're not just ordinary medical texts. They're... special."
The male disciple's expression now held more than skepticism—there was a hint of curiosity as he studied the books in Xiao Qing's grasp. His tone almost sounded interested as he asked, "Special in what way?
Xiao Qing's grip on the books tightened—Ying Shouren's warning echoing in his mind.
"T-The words... only I can see them," he lied, voice wavering just slightly. "I don't know how it happened… but when others look at these pages, they're just blank!"
The disciple leaned forward, eyes sharpening as if trying to spot a trick. But Xiao Qing had no idea that Ying Shouren had given him a skill that could back up this claim…
The disciple's eyes narrowed even further as he processed Xiao Qing's statement. "Blank books… only visible to you? That's a bold claim, boy," he said slowly, skepticism still lacing his tone, but there was definitely interest now.
He took a step forward, his gaze locked on the books. "Prove it," he said simply, holding out a hand. "Let me see for myself."
Xiao Qing swallowed hard—but then, with a shaky breath, he held the books out toward the disciple. "H-Here..."
The moment the man grabbed them and flipped open a page—his face went completely blank. The words? Nothing but empty parchment. Not even faint traces of ink remained.
A beat passed. . . before his eyes snapped back up to Xiao Qing's in pure disbelief: "You weren't lying"
The disciple's shock was evident. He flipped through several more pages, his disbelief growing with each blank sheet he saw. The look of skepticism on his face gradually faded, replaced by utter astonishment.
"How…" he mumbled, more to himself than to Xiao Qing. His gaze flicked between the books in his hands and the young boy who'd handed them over. Then, finally, he looked up, eyes wide, with something like genuine respect in his voice.
"Come with us. The Master will want to see you."
Xiao Qing swallowed hard, his heart soaring at the disciple's words. Relief and triumph coursed through him, a mixture of disbelief and excitement.
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a small smile tore at his lips—he could barely contain the happiness that he'd actually managed to join the Iron Leaf Pavilion.
"Of course," he replied, voice only betraying a slight tremble of nerves. "I'll go with you…"
Yulong huffed out another approving snort, pleased that his master's plan had worked.
The disciple gave a curt nod, still holding the books carefully. "Follow me," he said, gesturing for Xiao Qing to follow.
As they walked through the stone-lined path, the disciple studied Xiao Qing carefully—his young age, his slight form, and especially the determination in his eyes. It was clear that Xiao Qing was no ordinary child—and the man was beginning to understand just how much that was true.
The path led to a grand pavilion—a sprawling complex of golden rooftop and carved stone. It was as imposing as it was beautiful.
Once Ying Shouren see that Xiao Qing is inside, he flicked the reins, signalling Yulong to leave the Iron Leaf Pavilion.
Yulong neighed in agreement, his hooves kicking up dust as he spun on his heels.
The boy—Xiao Qing—glanced back one last time as the gates of the Iron Leaf Pavilion closed behind him. His small face was a mix of wonder and disbelief… but also something else: gratitude.
He didn't know if Ying Shouren could see it from where he were, but he mouthed two silent words before turning away for good:
"...Thank you."
Then Yulong carried Ying Shouren into the night, leaving no trace behind—just like ghosts always do.
The moon cast a silver glow over the empty road as Yulong's hooves carried him further into the night. The wind rustled through his robes, carrying away any lingering traces of that encounter.
Yulong let out a low whicker, his ears flicking back—almost as if to say: "That kid better not disappoint."
But for now? No more distractions. Only the open road ahead… and whatever destiny waited at its end.
"Scroll. You can perceive someone's fate, right? What do you see in that boy?" Ying Shouren asked softly.
The scroll unfurled on its own, glowing characters twisting into intricate patterns—then resolving into a single phrase:
"Fate of Xiao Qing – Rewritten Threads Detected."
"Medical Master." (Iron Leaf Pavilion's highest rank.)
"Wandering Healer." (Avoiding sect politics by traveling the lands.)
"Seer of the Wind." (A rare title—one that implied he would master your gifted skill beyond mere diagnosis…)
Yulong snorted loudly, as if to say "Tch. Not bad for a mortal brat."
Ying Shouren nodded in agreement with him, inwardly impressed. "I already gave him the tools. The rest will be up to him to overcome"
Yulong huffed in agreement, his ears flicking back as if to say "Let's see if the kid lives up to that fate."
The scroll curled back into Ying Shouren's robes with a faint glow—its work done.
Now? Only the night wind and distant stars bore witness as the man and the horse rode on, leaving behind yet another ripple in this vast world. The road ahead stretched endlessly. . . but for tonight? That was enough.