Dawn found Xi Ran half a kilometer from the source of the smoke. He crept towards the forest edge, beyond which lay the roofs of a small village – not Misty Shoal, but an unfamiliar settlement. Hunger twisted his stomach into spasms, his legs threatened to buckle. The risk was immense, but the choice was simple: try to find food here or drop dead in the forest.
*Careful. One house on the outskirts.* He chose the farthest hut, almost hidden by bushes. Crawled to the back wall, listened. Silence. A window slightly ajar. Smell – stewed vegetables, porridge. Saliva treacherously filled his mouth.
***Sight!*** Activated on its own, like a guard dog. But not an impulse of danger. An **explosion**.
Not a flash of light. **Structures.** Suddenly, without warning, the world before his eyes dissolved not into objects, but into **currents, auras, weavings of invisible threads**. He *saw* the heat signature of a person who had just left the hut towards the well. Saw the **dull, yellowish aura** of another person sleeping inside – sickly, weak. Saw the **dense network of cracks** in the clay pot on the stove. Saw the **hidden vole burrow** under the floor. Information flooded in like an avalanche, overwhelming, overloading his consciousness.
**Stupor.** Xi Ran froze, pressed against the wall. His head split with unbearable pain, as if icy needles were stabbing directly into his brain. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The world swam, distorted into a kaleidoscope of unseen images. **Shock.** This wasn't salvation. This was torture. The **Second Level of the Emerald Eyes** had opened at the worst time, a crushing wave.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the flow. The pain receded slightly, but behind his eyelids, everything blazed **bright green light**. He opened his eyes – and saw his reflection in a puddle at his feet. His **eyes... were glowing.** With a faint but distinct **emerald** radiance. His pupils looked like dark slits in two small green suns. *What's happening to me?!*
Panic gripped his throat. He wasn't just seeing the hidden – he was *radiating* it! Anyone could notice! He rubbed his eyes hard, but the glow didn't disappear, only dimmed slightly when he managed to mentally *push back* part of the vision avalanche, focusing solely on the hut and the departed person. Pain pulsed in his temples but became bearable. **Control.** Fragile, but control. He named this state **"Emerald Eyes"**. Not just an ability – a **Rare Physique**, manifesting at a critical moment.
Food had to be obtained NOW, while the person was at the well. Pain and fear retreated before fierce hunger. Using brief, controlled glimpses of the **Emerald Eyes**, he *saw* the best path: through the open window directly to the stove, avoiding the creaky floorboard. Like a shadow, he slipped inside. On the stove sat a bowl of cooling porridge. Next to it – a chunk of coarse bread. A sin. But no choice. He grabbed the food.
At that moment, the old man sleeping on the bench groaned and turned. Xi Ran froze. The **Emerald Eyes** automatically focused on him. He *saw* not just a sick man. He saw **stagnant, dark currents** in his chest, **weak, flickering threads of life force**. Like his father... But stolen porridge wouldn't help here.
The old man opened his eyes. A cloudy gaze fell on Xi Ran. On his **glowing eyes**. The old man gasped, mouth agape, not in fear, but in shock. "Spirit... forest...?" he rasped hoarsely.
Xi Ran didn't wait for shouts. He jumped out the window and dashed back into the forest, clutching the precious food. Behind him came the old man's weak cry, then the voice of the person returning with water.
He ran without looking back until he collapsed behind a windfall a kilometer from the village. With trembling hands, he began to devour the cold porridge greedily, washing it down with the stale bread. Food – medicine. Strength flowed back into his muscles, banishing the tremors.
But something was wrong. The **Emerald Eyes** continued to hum like live wires. The green light in his eyes didn't fade. And crucially – the energy from the food didn't just sate his hunger. It **churned** inside him like an awakened river. He felt it breaking through blockages in his muscles, cleansing channels that had been clogged with the grime of the swamps and the suffering of the Stone Sack. The pain from the vision overload began to transform. The **icy needles** in his head became... **needles of purification**. They pierced not to torture, but to burn away impurities, condensing his flesh.
His **Early Flesh Bone Stage** creaked at the seams. He wasn't meditating. He wasn't concentrating on circulation. The **Rare "Emerald Eyes" Physique** and the stressful breakthrough to the second level had triggered the process on their own. The energy from the food and remnants of adrenaline became fuel.
Suddenly, a wave of **hot prickling** swept through his entire body, replacing the icy stabs. Joints cracked. Muscles tensed, becoming denser, more resilient. The feeling of weakness vanished, replaced by **newfound solidity**. The headache receded, the glow in his eyes finally extinguished, leaving only a faint emerald spark deep within his pupils. He stood up. His body obeyed better. Faster. Stronger.
**Middle Flesh Bone Stage.** A breakthrough. Achieved not through years of meditation, but through pain, hunger, and the explosive awakening of a Rare Physique.
He looked towards the sect. Now he wasn't just a fugitive. He was a **Middle Stage cultivator** with a secret, dangerous gift. Stronger. Faster. But also more noticeable. His **Emerald Eyes** demanded control and secrecy. The road home to his father seemed a little closer, but the dangers – far more serious. He brushed crumbs from his clothes. Time to move. The forest was his only ally... for now.