The seventh day of the seventh month, the night cool as water. Yet Xu Lan Mountain Manor held no trace of the Qixi Festival's joy—only a deathly stillness of oppression shrouded this pure land guarded for generations. Manor Lord Xu Zhan stood alone atop the Wind-Listening Pavilion, his black cloak flapping sharply in the rising night wind. His gaze swept like a torch over the seething black mist at the mountain's foot—the army of demonic cultivators had already reached the gates.
"Daddy!"A clear yet panicked cry rang out from behind. Seven-year-old Xu Xiaoqi, barefoot, ran up the stairs, clutching tightly in his hand a warm, translucent jade pendant that glimmered with a faint azure halo under the hazy moonlight—precisely the vessel of the Xu family's heirloom treasure, the"Purifying Source."He threw himself against Xu Zhan's leg, looking up with a small face full of bewildered unease."Outside… it's so dark. Mommy is crying."
Xu Zhan's heart ached. He bent down, wrapping his young son tightly in his arms. Stroking the boy's soft hair, his gaze fell upon the jade pendant, complex and unutterable. This sacred artifact, imbued with purifying power that could cleanse evil and protect living beings, had now become the source of calamity inviting total destruction. The demonic cultivation colossus"Shadow Serpent Pavilion"had long coveted this object, and tonight, they had finally come in full force.
"Xiao Qi, don't be afraid,"Xu Zhan's voice was deep and steady, carrying unquestionable strength."Remember Daddy's words: no matter what happens, hold this jade pendant tight. It, along with the pot your mother gave you, will protect you."He referred to the seemingly ordinary mysterious iron frying pan used daily by the manor's mistress, Su Wan, for brewing medicine and cooking. Because Xiaoqi often lingered in the kitchen, Su Wan had allowed him to treat it as a toy, and now it had been hastily stuffed into his pack.
At the mountain's base, the black mist suddenly boiled over. Piercing howls and the roar of spiritual explosions erupted violently. The luminous curtain of the manor protection array trembled fiercely, flickering uncertainly.
Xu Zhan rose abruptly, pushing Xiaoqi toward Su Wan, who had rushed up in haste."Take Xiaoqi away! Through the secret passage!"His gaze was resolute, containing a father's and a manor lord's final charge.
Su Wan wept profusely, yet knew this was no time for hesitation. She scooped up Xiaoqi, thrusting a medicine pouch emitting a soothing fragrance into Xu Zhan's hand. She cast one last deep look at her husband—a look that held countless unspoken farewells and bone-deep anguish. Then she turned and ran toward the ancestral hall, where a hidden passage led directly outside the manor.
Xu Zhan watched his wife and son disappear from sight, then whirled around, his eyes now filled with icy killing intent. He took a deep breath, spiritual power erupting from his body like a volcano. Azure purifying light blossomed from within him—though not as pure as that from the jade pendant, it carried a tragic, unyielding ferocity.
"Xu family disciples, follow me to meet the enemy! Protect our pure land, defend all living beings!"
A deafening roar, like rolling thunder, cracked across the manor's skies. The sound swept like a tidal wave, instantly engulfing the entire estate, shaking all within its path. The remaining guards and clansmen, their eyes already crimson with rage as if burning with fierce flames, followed closely behind the manor lord. Like moths drawn to fire, they charged recklessly toward that boundless darkness.
The darkness, like a ferocious beast, opened its maw, ruthlessly devouring everything. Yet these brave souls showed no fear, their hearts holding but one conviction—to protect the manor, to protect their family. Led by the manor lord, they surged forward like an unstoppable torrent, their footfalls pounding like war drums through the estate. Each step brimmed with power and determination, as if intending to shatter that very darkness.
Inside the ancestral hall, Su Wan activated the mechanism. The heavy altar table slowly slid aside, revealing a pitch-black opening. She set Xiaoqi down, quickly dressing him in an outer robe, then securely fastened the small frying pan to his back.
"Xiaoqi, listen,"she cupped her son's face, her voice choked yet crystal clear."Run straight down this secret passage and don't look back! Once you're out, forget Xu Lan Mountain Manor, forget your father and mother. You are just Xiaoqi—live well!"
Xiaoqi seemed to sense something. He clutched his mother's sleeve tightly, his large eyes brimming with tears, yet stubbornly refusing to cry out.
Just then—a thunderous crash! The ancestral hall doors, along with half the wall, were blasted apart by violent demonic qi! Amid flying debris, several Shadow Serpent Pavilion demonic cultivators, wreathed in black energy, stepped in with vicious grins.
"Tsk tsk, Manor Mistress, where are you taking the treasure?"The leader's greedy eyes locked onto the jade pendant on Xiaoqi's chest.
Su Wan shielded Xiaoqi fiercely behind her. With a flick of her pale hand, several silver needles imbued with medicinal fragrance shot forth, forcing the demonic cultivators to retreat momentarily. She seized the chance, pushing Xiaoqi toward the passage entrance."Run!"
Xiaoqi stumbled into the darkness. The last sight imprinted in his eyes was his mother, white robes stained with blood, sword in hand, locked in desperate combat with the demonic cultivators—and her final, hoarse cry:"Run—!"
The passage entrance slammed shut behind him, cutting off the light, cutting off his mother's figure, and that deafening clamor of battle. Xiaoqi was plunged into utter darkness and silence, only the faint glow from the jade pendant at his chest barely illuminating the damp, slippery steps beneath his feet.
Remembering his mother's words, gritting his teeth, he moved his short legs, running desperately forward. Fear coiled around his heart like an icy serpent. Tears mingled with sweat blurred his vision, but he dared not stop, dared not cry out. The frying pan on his back knocked against the stone walls with dull clangs, echoing distinctly in the confined space.
He ran for an unknowable time, until faint light and the sound of water appeared ahead. The passage exit opened onto a hidden stream at the base of the cliff behind the manor.
Xiaoqi struggled out of the opening. A cold mountain wind, carrying the thick scent of blood, struck his face. He looked back to see what was once a fairyland-like Xu Lan Mountain Manor now engulfed in a sea of fire. Towering flames dyed half the sky a harrowing crimson. Cries of battle, explosions, and dying wails faintly reached him, like a symphony from hell.
He stared blankly at that inferno. The home that held all his warmth and joy was collapsing, destroyed before his very eyes. Overwhelming grief and fear instantly crushed the seven-year-old child. He opened his mouth but no sound emerged. Darkness swam before his eyes, and he collapsed unconscious by the icy stream.
In that moment before losing consciousness, his small hand still clutched the jade pendant at his chest. That feeble azure light stubbornly guarded his fading vitality. And that seemingly clumsy frying pan, as he fell, cushioned his body, shielding him from the cold sharpness of the stream rocks.
The night was deep, the firelight mirrored in the sky. The last night at Xu Lan Mountain Manor ended in blood and ruin. The sole survivor—a child named Xiaoqi—with a jade pendant and a frying pan, lay unconscious in the wilderness. The gears of fate began turning quietly here.
Later, recalling this scene, Xiaoqi composed aQijuepoem,"Drifting":
"Demonic flames engulf the manor, night unending;A lone fledgling flees with tears, through boundless lands.The pendant's faint glow warms old dreams;With a flat pan as companion, he ventures into vastness."
Note: A true portrayal of Xiaoqi's childhood hardships and wanderings. Though the language is childlike and unpolished, it reveals his initial resilience.