I wake up in a slight haze
My body; small and meek
I gaze around my small, singular bed room
The scent is familiar
A slight smile comes upon my face reminiscing of my childhood
The room is still so stuffed, the walls giving no room to breathe, books flood the ground beneath me
I spot my naivety seeing my horribly sketched drawings
I succumb to laughter
I really had wasted so many years pursuing pointless ambitions
I hear murmurs from outside my window
"That child from the east reeks of talent"
I gaze harshly at the clan elder,hating who he is talking about
I have harsh memories of that boy, Heng Heto, he constantly made my plans so much harder to bring into fruition
I continue hearing the murmurs
"That Zulong Clan is so lucky with that talent. Hopefully, we get a talent like that in our clan"
I had very little talent, and the leader of the Yazi clan perceived me as if I was a worm
I had to use everything in my arsenal to be able to keep up with him
He was a undeniable genius, it was as if he was blessed by the gods
Gu just seemed to flock to him
There was constant envy and praise of Heng Heto behind his back
I think to myself
well no point in envying him, in this life he hasn't stopped me, and no one will