Wandao 001
In the early morning, the village of Niupu lay shrouded in mist, soft as gauze. Moisture clung to the stone paths and grass-thatched cottages, while distant mountain ridges loomed faintly in the dim light. Beside a field ridge, an old yellow ox ambled slowly, the copper bell on its neck occasionally chiming with a dull ring.
Wan Xiaochuan crouched by the creek, splashing his face with cold water. The clear stream lapped against the stones, reflecting the youthful face that had yet to fully mature. He was around thirteen years old, tall and slender, with a trace of heroic spirit in his features. As he scrubbed his face, his eyes wandered to the layered silhouettes of mountains beyond, a flicker of restlessness stirring in his heart.
He wore a coarse cloth robe, a simple beast-hide belt around his waist, and hemp shoes on his feet—but none of this could hide the sharp, spirited air about him. Around his neck hung an old pendant of green jade, known as the "Heartguard Stone," said to be a protective charm left by his father.
"Xiaochuan, come eat breakfast!" came the deep voice of Wan Liqiao from a distance.
Wan Xiaochuan stood up at the call and stepped lightly onto the stone path. His gait was agile and precise, each step naturally landing on the center of gravity, revealing a body control far beyond his age. Upon returning to their wooden cottage, he found the table already set with rice, stewed vegetables, and a dish unique to the village—Spiritual Trout Broth.
The Sipiritual Trout Broth was light golden, its aroma delicate with a faint herbal essence. The first sip was fresh and smooth, nourishing yet not greasy—one of Wan Xiaochuan's favorite home-cooked dishes. He sat and ate heartily, while Wan Liqiao, deep in thought, poured himself a cup of old wine.
"Father," Wan Xiaochuan looked up after swallowing a mouthful of rice, "you once said cultivation is the path to strength… but is it truly a road I can walk?"
Wan Liqiao's gaze sharpened as he looked at his son, eyes filled with unspoken meaning. His face, weathered by time and wind, bore the marks of experience. He wore a grey-blue robe, with a whisk and a wooden flute hanging from his waist.
"Cultivation isn't a path you can walk by resolve alone," he said lowly but firmly. "But if you can endure loneliness and hardship, and if your heart is steadfast enough—then it's worth a try."
A spark lit in Wan Xiaochuan's eyes as he clenched his fists.
After the meal, he followed his father into the forested hills behind their home. Though the spiritual energy here was thin, Wan Liqiao had set up a simple spiritual formation—the Minor Wind-Gathering Array—which could draw the forest's breeze to assist in guiding spiritual energy into the body.
"Sit down. Regulate your breath and follow me in the incantation," said Wan Liqiao as he sat cross-legged, motioning for Xiaochuan to sit opposite him.
Morning light filtered through pine needles as Wan Xiaochuan obeyed. His meridians barely opened, yet a faint stream of spiritual energy flowed into his fingertips, cool and light like a breeze brushing the skin. He concentrated, focusing his mind as he chanted the Guiding Qi Incantation his father had taught him, directing the spiritual current through his pathways.
The first contact with Qi felt like tiny needles or fine silk threads. Wan Xiaochuan grit his teeth and persisted. After one incense stick's time, sweat began to form on his brow.
Just then—a clap of thunder rumbled in the sky.
Wan Xiaochuan opened his eyes. A streak of white light descended from the clouds, falling into the wastelands southeast of the village and kicking up a towering plume of dust.
"That is…" Wan Liqiao sprang to his feet, face changed drastically. "A celestial meteoric stone!"
He turned to his son, his eyes grave as never before. "Xiaochuan, today I give you my final lesson as your father and teacher. From now on, you must walk your path alone."
"Why?" Xiaochuan rose quickly, confused.
"Because that's no ordinary meteor. It's a Celestial Profound Stone, possibly containing spiritual artifacts, spirit beasts, or ancient sealed relics."
Wan Xiaochuan felt his heart tremble.
Before he could think further, several streaks of light shot up from afar—other cultivators from nearby villages or wildlands had also noticed the phenomenon and were rushing toward it.
"Back to the house! Grab rations, talismans, and spirit water—we're going!" Wan Liqiao leapt forward, gathering Qi beneath his feet, stepping off a mossy rock and bounding into the treetops like a soaring crane.
Wan Xiaochuan realized this might be the true beginning of his destiny. He drew in a deep breath, eyes glowing with resolve.
He dashed into the house, strapped on his supply pouch, tucked talismans at his waist, and carefully hid the Heartguard Stone inside his inner robe—it was his origin, and the key to his fate.
The morning mist in Niupu had yet to disperse, but the first step on the myriad paths of immortality had already been taken.