"Come in," Elder Qingshan's voice called from inside.
Yang pushed open the door and entered. He saw Elder Qingshan and Uncle Li sitting together already. A tea kettle and tea cups were arranged in front of them on a low table. The room was warm and comfortable.
They welcomed him in warmly. Elder Qingshan's weathered face creasing with a genuine smile. "Xiao Yang! Come, sit. You look well today."
Yang sat down carefully. His heart already beating faster with anticipation.
The elder filled a tea cup for Yang with practiced movements. The fragrant steam rose between them. "Drink. This is rare tea from Green Mist mountain, It improves the mind."
Yang accepted the cup gratefully. The warmth seeped into his palms. He took a sip. The flavor was delicate. Nothing like the rough tea the Li family usually drank.
Uncle Li and Elder Qingshan were talking about the upcoming sowing season. Their voices animated. Uncle Li gestured as he described the fields. Which ones had been properly rotated. Which needed more fertilizer.
Elder Qingshan nodded along. Offering suggestions. Sharing observations from his many decades of watching the village farm.
They looked happy talking about the topic. Discussing the latest harvest and the quality and abundance of the grain this year compared to last.
Yang listened quietly. Sipping his tea. Trying to calm his nerves.
Once they finished their agricultural discussion, the elder and uncle looked at each other. Some unspoken communication passed between them. They both turned to face Yang fully.
Elder Qingshan's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Xiao Yang, surely you didn't ask to meet both of us together just to listen to us discuss farming and crops?"
Yang smiled back. His nervousness easing slightly at the elder's gentle teasing. "No, Elder. I wanted to talk about the martial artists."
"I thought so," the elder said. Satisfaction in his voice. "I saw it in your eyes when I named them. That hunger. That desperate need to know more."
The elder's perceptiveness made Yang's chest tight. Being seen so clearly was both comforting and unsettling.
Elder Qingshan smiled warmly. "Ask what you want to know. Though I must warn you, I don't know much about them. Just stories from long ago."
"What are martial artists?" Yang leaned forward. His tea forgotten. "You said what they're capable of, but how? How do they do it?"
The question came out with burning intensity. This was what he'd struggled and climbed and crossed the mountain for. This thread of evidence that might lead him to the higher paths he sought.
Martial artists. Not magic or cultivation but an actual martial world.
Elder Qingshan's expression grew distant. Remembering. "Martial artists use and learn techniques to improve and increase their power. They cultivate internal energy. Practice forms and movements that make them superhuman."
His voice filled with admiration. "They are the strongest people in the world. Can shake the foundations of kingdoms if they put their minds to it. Break armies and topple dynasties. They are the heads and heirs of the most powerful clans and organizations."
Yang's heart raced. This was it, the confirmation that there was a path forward.
"All young men dream of becoming one," Elder Qingshan continued. His voice carrying weight. "But only one in ten thousand has the opportunity or talent to do so. Most of us are born without that spark. That potential."
The elder's expression grew wistful. Touched with old regret. "Once I also had the dream. Before life taught me its lessons."
He chuckled softly. The sound bittersweet. "I once met such a man when I was a young boy. He passed through our village. I was maybe eight years old. Small and skinny and full of dreams."
Elder Qingshan's eyes grew distant. Lost in memory. "He was magnificent. Moved like water. Like wind. I saw him jump from the ground to a rooftop. Just jumped. No ladder. No climbing. Just one leap and he was there."
Yang's breath caught. Imagining it.
"From that day, I dreamed of becoming like him," the elder said quietly. "I practiced jumping. Practiced moving. Thought if I tried hard enough, I could learn his secrets."
He smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, that dream had to remain a dream. I had responsibilities. A family. The village needed me. And I didn't have the talent. Not really. Just boyhood ambition."
Uncle Li reached over and squeezed the elder's shoulder. Understanding in the gesture. Shared regret for paths not taken.
Then Elder Qingshan said one word. "Guanshi."
Yang asked, confused. "What?"
The elder repeated clearly. "Guanshi Town. That was the town the man said he was from."
Yang's heart leaped.
"I was young at the time," Elder Qingshan continued. "Had dreams of becoming like him. That was the name he gave when asked where he was from. Guanshi Town."
Yang opened his mouth to ask the obvious question.
The elder raised a hand. Anticipating. "Before you ask, I have never been there. My commitments and family never allowed me to leave the village. I was needed here. Couldn't just abandon everyone to chase a boy's dream."
The regret in his voice was palpable. A lifetime of what-ifs.
"But I know it was somewhere westward," Elder Qingshan said. "A few weeks' journey, according to him. Maybe more. The man wasn't specific."
Uncle Li turned to Yang. His weathered face understanding. "You want to go there. Don't you?"
Yang looked at him helplessly. Caught between desire and obligation, and between ambition and loyalty to the people who'd taken him in.
Uncle Li smiled gently. "No need to be embarrassed. I know what young men are like. I was young once too."
He gestured at Yang. "And especially with your talent, it would be wrong of us to force you to stay here. Keeping you would be like caging a hawk. Cruel and wasteful."
Yang's throat tightened with emotion. "Uncle Li, I..."
"You don't need to explain," Uncle Li interrupted. His voice kind. "We understand. Don't we, Elder?"
Elder Qingshan nodded. His expression warm. "We do indeed."
Yang took a shaky breath. "I have a desire to learn about martial artists and my abilities. I would like to find out more about them. About what I am and what I could become."
The admission felt like exposing his soul. Vulnerable and terrifying.
Uncle Li and Elder Qingshan looked at each other. Another of those silent conversations. Then they both nodded.
"Take a month or two to make preparations before you leave," Uncle Li said. "That will be enough time for us to make the villagers ready for your departure. Let them say proper goodbyes."
Yang's eyes burned. "You're not angry?"
"Angry?" Elder Qingshan looked surprised. "Xiao Yang, why would we be angry? You've given this village so much. Feasts we never would have had. Protection for our children. Your presence has been a blessing and joy."
His expression grew solemn and sincere. "I don't know if you will return. The world is large and dangerous. Full of opportunities that might take you far from here."
The elder reached across and gripped Yang's shoulder. "But know that you have our blessing to achieve your dreams. To become what you're meant to be. This village will always remember you. Always welcome you if you choose to come back."
Yang's vision blurred. He blinked hard. "Thank you. Both of you. For everything."
Uncle Li stood and put an arm around Yang's shoulder. His grip firm and paternal. He ruffled Yang's hair roughly. An affectionate gesture that made Yang's chest ache.
"Come," Uncle Li said. "Let's go home. The boys will want to know."
They walked together to the Li house. The evening air was cool. Comfortable. The village was settling into its evening routines. Smoke rising from cooking fires. Children being called inside. The peaceful rhythm Yang had come to love.
They entered the Li house and saw all three Li sons sitting around. Snacking on some nuts. Laughing about something.
Yang and Uncle Li joined them. Yang took a seat next to Li San. The youngest immediately shared his nuts without being asked. Yang took a couple and ate them. Relaxing beside his friend and soaking in the simple domesticity.
"Where were you, Father?" The eldest brother asked. "And Xiao Yang? We looked around for you."
Uncle Li's expression grew serious. "We have something to inform you. And you must keep the news among yourselves for now. Don't spread it through the village yet."
All three Li sons leaned forward immediately. Curiosity written on their faces. "What is it?"
Yang took a breath. "I plan on leaving."
The reaction was immediate and explosive.
"What?!" Li San nearly jumped to his feet. Shock and hurt warring on his face.
"Leaving?" Second brother's voice was disbelieving. "Why?"
"You're family!" Eldest brother said firmly. "Why would you leave?"
They all spoke over each other. Voices rising with distress.
"Did someone say something to you?" Li San demanded. His face flushed. "Did someone hurt you? Make you feel unwelcome?"
"Is there something wrong?" Second brother asked. "Did we do something?"
Li San was the most insistent. His voice cracking with emotion. "You can't leave! This is your home! We're your family!"
Uncle Li raised his hand. His voice cutting through the chaos. "Enough!"
The sons fell silent. Surprised by their father's sharp tone.
Uncle Li's expression was firm but kind. "This is Yang's home. He is welcome here just as all three of you are. But this is his own decision. None of you are to force him into staying. Do you understand?"
They nodded reluctantly. But confusion and hurt still showed on their faces.
"But why?" Second brother asked quietly. "Why would you want to leave?"
Yang swallowed hard. "I want to learn more about the martial path."
He looked at each of them. Trying to make them understand. "I have been strong for years. But it wasn't until Elder Qingshan spoke about martial artists that I found out there was a name for what I was doing. A whole world I didn't know existed."
His voice grew passionate. Desperate for them to understand. "I want to learn more about it. Improve myself. Understand what I am and what I could become."
At this, the three sons quieted down. Processing.
The eldest brother spoke first. His voice measured and thoughtful. "Then it would be wrong of us to hold you back."
He met Yang's eyes. "You've been blessed with an opportunity many would kill to have. It wouldn't be right for us to stop you from achieving that just because we like having you around."
His words were mature and selfless. But Yang could see the pain underneath.
But Li San interrupted. His voice breaking. "You can't leave me. Leave us. We're family. We have everything here. We're happy. Why isn't that enough?"
Uncle Li turned to his youngest son. His expression stern. "Li San! Don't make Yang feel guilty. His strength is one in ten thousand. It would be an injustice to force him to stay. If you love and care for him, you must want the best for him. And that means supporting him."
Li San's face crumpled. He looked down at his hands. Tears threatening.
Uncle Li's voice softened. "I know it hurts. But think about Yang. Not yourself."
Li San nodded miserably. Unable to speak.
The tension hung heavy in the air. Awkward and painful.
Then Second brother stood. "I'll start dinner. We should eat."
They all joined together to prepare the meal. Working in coordinated silence. Li San participated but remained quiet. His usual chatter absent. The hurt still too fresh.
Dinner was subdued. Conversation forced. Everyone trying to act normal while the elephant sat among them.
After finishing their night ablutions, they were all in their beds. The room dark except for faint moonlight through the window.
Li San's quiet voice broke the silence. "Yang?"
Yang turned toward Li San's bed next to him. "Yes?"
"You really want to leave?" The question was small. Vulnerable.
Yang sighed. Chose his words carefully. "Li San, I never knew anyone with strength like myself. I would like to know more about it. Improve myself if possible."
He hesitated. Then admitted what he'd never told anyone. "Initially, I was becoming stronger faster. But in the last few years, I've been stagnating. The strength doesn't increase anymore. I feel stuck."
Li San was quiet. Processing.
"I want you to stay here," Li San finally said. Raw honesty in his voice.
"I know," Yang said softly.
"But I want you happy as well." Li San's voice was thick with emotion.
"I know that too," Yang said. Grateful and aching.
Li San took a shaky breath. "I will support you. If leaving makes you happy, then I'll support you."
Yang's eyes burned. "Thank you, Li San. You're the best friend and brother I could ask for."
"I dare you to say that in front of Eldest and Second Brother," Li San said. A smile creeping into his voice despite the tears.
"I don't dare!" Yang said in a pretend scared voice.
They both burst into quiet laughter. The tension breaking like a dam.
"Some of us are trying to sleep," Second Brother interrupted from his bed. His voice muffled as he turned to face the other side.
Li San and Yang smiled at each other in the darkness. Then settled down to sleep. Both at peace with what was coming.
Yang closed his eyes. Grateful for this family. These people who loved him enough to let him go.
The path ahead was uncertain. Dangerous. Full of unknowns.
But for the first time since Grandpa's death, Yang had a direction. A purpose beyond mere survival.
He would find Guanshi Town. Learn about martial artists. Discover what he could become.
And maybe, someday, he'd return to Yunxi Village with stories to tell. With strength to protect the people who'd given him a home when he had nothing.
Yang drifted off to sleep with hope warming his chest.