Yang Feng stood at the base of the mountain, his eyes narrowing as he observed the terrain before him. The path leading up to his father's house was steep and rugged, yet he ascended it effortlessly, his steps light and agile. His eyes swept over the forest surrounding him, the rustling leaves filling the air with a calm rhythm, but his mind was elsewhere, deep in thought.
As he climbed, his gaze shifted to the edge of the cliff where his father had discarded his axe earlier. Yang Feng squinted, focusing on the trajectory where the axe had flown. He couldn't help but marvel at the precision with which his father had thrown it. The power and accuracy required to send the axe over the edge with such pinpoint accuracy reminded him of someone—Xiao Mei. In the twisted spiritual world that Yang Feng now found himself in, few could demonstrate such sharp skills, but Xiao Mei had always excelled at such feats.
He chuckled to himself, his mind wandering between memories of Xiao Mei's abilities and the raw talent his father had shown today. A strange sensation stirred within him. It was something to wonder about, seeing such skill in someone as ordinary as Bai Feng—a man who spent most of his time chopping wood and drinking.
Yang Feng reached the small wooden cabin at the top of the mountain. The structure was modest, its exterior weathered by time and the elements. It was the only home Yang Feng had known since his rebirth, and yet it always felt foreign to him—just another piece of this unfamiliar world. Pushing open the door, Yang Feng stepped inside.
The air in the cabin was still, except for the gentle creaking of Bai Feng's chair as it rocked back and forth. Yang Feng's father was reclining, his eyes closed, his rugged face softened by the warm light filtering through the small window. His usual stern expression was relaxed, and the aura of the mighty man Yang Feng had seen throwing the axe earlier seemed to have faded, replaced by the familiar image of the drunkard who spent his days cutting wood and nights drowning in alcohol.
Yang Feng's gaze lingered on his father, his black eyes flickering with subtle intensity. He studied the man before him—the rough lines etched into his skin, the grizzled beard that covered his chin, and the faint smell of alcohol that clung to him like a second skin. He wasn't the warrior Yang Feng had glimpsed earlier, but rather the simple man who had raised him, the one who had taught him how to survive in this world.
Bai Feng stirred, sensing Yang Feng's presence. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and they met his son's gaze. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was thick, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions that neither of them could express.
"Did you sell all the wood?" Bai Feng finally asked, his voice low and gruff.
Yang Feng blinked, coming out of his reverie. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pouch of coins Miss Xu had given him. To Yang Feng, the money meant nothing. It was just metal—shiny, curved pieces that humans used to trade for goods. But to Bai Feng, it was a lifeline, a way to buy the drinks he so desperately craved.
"Yes, I sold it," Yang Feng replied, his voice calm as he handed over the pouch. He kept his anger buried deep, hidden behind a forced smile. To him, it was infuriating—how his father's life revolved around alcohol, how every coin he earned seemed to vanish into a bottle. But he said nothing, knowing it would do no good. Instead, he watched as Bai Feng took the pouch and inspected its contents.
Bai Feng grunted in acknowledgment, tossing the pouch onto the small table beside his chair. He looked at his son, his eyes sharp and assessing, as if searching for something.
"Tell me," Bai Feng said after a pause, "what happened in the village today?"
Yang Feng felt his heart race slightly as his mind quickly filtered through the day's events. He couldn't tell his father everything—especially not the truth about the spiritual academy and the Sun Rank. No, that was something Bai Feng wouldn't understand, not yet.
So instead, Yang Feng weaved a careful story, one that mixed truth with fabrication. He smiled, masking his nervousness, and began his tale.
"When I got to the village, the village elder saw me and told me to deliver the wood to Miss Xu," Yang Feng began, his voice smooth and steady. "So, I went to her house. She was burning her food, so I helped her out a bit, and after that, she gave me the money."
Bai Feng nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. Yang Feng knew his father could see through most lies, so he kept his words carefully neutral, never straying too far from what had actually happened.
"After leaving Miss Xu's house, I saw the village children being tested for spiritual beasts by the counselor," Yang Feng continued. He let out a small chuckle as though amused by the memory. "I wasn't paying attention to it, though. As I was walking, the counselor slipped, and a crystal flew out of his hand and hit me in the head. That's when everything went blank."
Bai Feng's eyebrows furrowed, but he remained silent, waiting for Yang Feng to finish the story.
"When I came to, the villagers were tossing me in the air, celebrating," Yang Feng said, keeping his voice casual. "The counselor told me I passed the test and that I was a sun ranker.But after hearing his words, I couldn't decide wether to stay or leave,hence I decided to stay....."
Yang Feng paused, his heart beating faster. This was the part where he had used double pupils but still he couldn't tell him that! He had to be careful. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.
"I chose to stay," Yang Feng said, his voice quieter now. "I told the counselor I refused to go to the spiritual academy. I wanted to stay here, with you."
For a moment, the cabin was dead silent. The only sound was the creaking of Bai Feng's chair as it swung back and forth slowly. Yang Feng watched his father's face, trying to read his expression, but it was unreadable, blank.
Then, suddenly, Bai Feng moved. His hand, holding the jug of alcohol, slipped. The jug tumbled from his grip, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter. Bai Feng's eyes widened in shock as he stared at his son, disbelief etched into every line of his face.
"What?" Bai Feng's voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of the single word hung heavily in the air.
Yang Feng stood still, feeling the tension in the room rise. His father's shock was palpable, and for the first time in a long while, Bai Feng seemed lost for words. The man who always knew what to say, whether to scold or praise, was now utterly speechless.
The jug of alcohol lay shattered on the floor, its contents spreading across the wooden planks like a dark stain. But neither of them noticed. All Bai Feng could focus on were the words his son had just spoken.
"I refused to go to the spiritual academy," Yang Feng repeated, his voice firmer this time.
Bai Feng blinked, his mind struggling to process what he was hearing. He had never expected this. Never in a million years did he think his son would refuse such an opportunity—especially not when he had tested as a Sun Rank. The implications of Yang Feng's decision weighed heavily on Bai Feng's shoulders, and for the first time in a long time, he felt truly powerless.