Chapter 1: The Spark of Desire
The dawn light filtered through the cracks of the dilapidated roof, casting thin rays over the dusty, uneven floor of the cramped, wooden shack. It wasn't much of a home—just a small space barely held together by rotting beams and frayed cloth, tucked away deep within the Mud Lotus District of the Tianlong Empire. Here, in the empire's forgotten slums, even the sun's warmth felt indifferent. Life had always been bleak in the shadow of the empire's sprawling capital, and for Li Jian and Li Xuan, it was the only world they had ever known.
The brothers, though only separated by a few years, could not have been more different. Li Jian, the elder, lay sprawled across a makeshift cot, staring up at the ceiling as if expecting it to collapse at any moment, his mind buzzing with unspoken thoughts. His dark eyes glinted with a dangerous intensity, always restless, always searching for a way out. Li Xuan, the younger, sat quietly in the corner, his eyes closed in silent contemplation, though truthfully, he had little to contemplate except the endless struggle for survival.
They had nothing. No family, no status, no prospects. Only each other.
The Mud Lotus District was no place for dreams. It was a place where hope was suffocated by the stench of poverty and where ambition was crushed under the weight of imperial indifference. But despite their grim surroundings, the brothers still clung to a desperate desire—a desire for strength, for a way to rise above the muck they had been born into.
Today, however, that desire would take its first, tentative step toward reality.
"Did you hear?" Li Jian's voice broke the silence, sharp and brimming with urgency. He sat up abruptly, his hand resting on the small dagger tucked into his waist. His eyes flicked toward the door, where the faint sounds of distant chatter and the bustle of the morning market could be heard. "There's been a fight near the docks. Some gang cornered a kid—looks like he won't make it."
Li Xuan opened his eyes slowly, his gaze meeting his brother's. "And why does that matter to us?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge of curiosity. He knew Li Jian well enough to sense when his brother was on the verge of one of his wild schemes.
Li Jian grinned, his lips curling in a way that made him look more like a predator than a mere slum dweller. "That kid's got something on him. Word is he had gold coins—two of them. More than enough to get us out of this hole for a few months at least."
Gold. Li Xuan's heart skipped a beat. For someone like them, living off scraps and stolen bread, two gold coins were a fortune. But there was more than just the promise of coin in Li Jian's eyes. There was something else—something darker, more desperate.
"You mean to rob him," Li Xuan stated, though it wasn't really a question.
Li Jian shrugged. "He's as good as dead anyway. Might as well put what he has to better use."
A long silence followed as Li Xuan considered the proposition. Robbery wasn't a new concept to them; they had stolen before, countless times, though always out of necessity. But this felt different. This wasn't about survival—it was about something more. A chance to break free from the mud, to rise above the nameless masses who drifted through life with no direction, no power.
"Alright," Li Xuan finally said, standing up and adjusting the threadbare robes that hung loosely on his thin frame. "But we move quickly. If he's from a sect, we don't want trouble from anyone coming after him."
Li Jian's grin widened. "That's the spirit, little brother."
The brothers moved through the narrow, winding alleys of the Mud Lotus District, their steps quick and silent, blending into the shadows like the ghosts they often felt they were. The market was bustling as always, filled with vendors selling rancid meats and spoiled vegetables, the smell of decay and unwashed bodies permeating the air.
But the docks—where the poorest of the poor gathered—were quieter this morning. And as the brothers approached, they spotted the scene immediately.
A boy, no older than sixteen, lay crumpled against a pile of rotting crates. His clothes, once rich and embroidered, were now torn and bloodied. His face was pale, his breaths shallow. Standing above him were two men, local thugs, their hands bloodied from their work.
"Should we wait for them to leave?" Li Xuan whispered, his eyes darting to the thugs who were rummaging through the boy's belongings.
Li Jian shook his head. "No. If we wait, we'll miss our chance."
Before Li Xuan could argue, Li Jian was already moving, his body low and swift as he darted toward the thugs. Li Xuan followed instinctively, his heart pounding in his chest. The thugs were caught off guard, barely having time to register the attack before Li Jian's dagger was at one of their throats.
"Get lost," Li Jian hissed, his voice cold and dangerous. The thug's eyes widened in fear, and without hesitation, they dropped whatever they had and fled.
Li Xuan knelt beside the boy, his hands trembling as he rifled through the boy's torn robes. Just as Li Jian had said—two gold coins, glinting faintly in the dim light. But there was something else, too. A small, folded piece of parchment, worn and smudged with blood.
"What is this?" Li Xuan murmured, unfolding the parchment carefully. It was a simple scroll, containing only a few lines of hastily scrawled writing—basic martial techniques, the kind often taught to beginners in sects.
"Useless," Li Jian muttered, his eyes fixated on the gold. "It's the coins we need."
But Li Xuan's gaze lingered on the scroll. It was basic, true, but it was a path—a path to something greater than this miserable existence.
The boy coughed, his chest heaving as he struggled to speak. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, locked onto Li Xuan's. "Take it," he rasped. "The sect... will come for you. Take it... and run."
Li Jian stood up, his hand clutching the gold coins tightly. "He's done for. Let's go."
But Li Xuan hesitated. There was something in the boy's gaze, something that spoke of a life beyond the grime and the stench of the slums. Slowly, almost reverently, Li Xuan took the scroll and tucked it into his robes.
As the boy took his final breath, the brothers turned and walked away, leaving behind the first spark of what would become their journey to immortality.
That night, back in the safety of their hovel, Li Xuan unrolled the scroll again, his eyes tracing the simple diagrams and techniques. They were crude, basic movements—how to circulate Qi through the body, how to strengthen one's muscles and bones through proper breathing. The kind of knowledge passed down to the lowest disciples in any sect.
But for the brothers, it was more than they had ever known.
"Qi Condensation," Li Xuan muttered, his brow furrowing. "The first step in cultivation. It says it will help us gather Qi from the air and strengthen our bodies. But how... how do we even begin?"
Li Jian, who had been silently admiring the gold coins in his hands, glanced over. "Doesn't look that hard. Breathe in, breathe out. Circulate Qi. Easy enough, right?"
Li Xuan shook his head. "It's not that simple. We need to sense the Qi first, to feel the flow of it in the air around us."
Li Jian scoffed. "Feel the Qi? How am I supposed to feel something I can't even see?"
"You've always been the impatient one," Li Xuan muttered, his tone more thoughtful than critical. "But if we want to escape this life, if we want real power, we need to understand this."
There was a long silence, the weight of the moment settling over them. For the first time, they had something more than desperation. They had a goal, however distant or impossible it seemed.
"Fine," Li Jian finally said, leaning back against the wall. "You figure it out, and when you do, you can teach me. We'll learn together."
Li Xuan nodded, though inside he was unsure. They had the scroll, but they were nothing more than two boys fumbling in the dark, trying to grasp a path that had eluded them all their lives.
For the next few days, they practiced in secret, following the crude instructions on the scroll. They sat cross-legged in the small, dingy room, breathing in deeply, trying to sense the spiritual Qi that was supposedly all around them. But no matter how hard they tried, it always seemed just out of reach, like a shadow that disappeared the moment they grasped for it.
"Maybe we're not cut out for this," Li Jian muttered one evening, his frustration palpable. "Maybe we don't have the talent."
Li Xuan, despite his own doubts, shook his head. "No. Everyone starts somewhere. Even the greatest cultivators were once like us."
"Do you think the sects started with this?" Li Jian laughed bitterly. "No wonder they keep this knowledge to themselves."
Still, they persisted, night after night, the gold coins from their robbery already spent on food and medicine for the aches in their bodies from failed attempts to cultivate. And just as they were beginning to lose hope, something happened.
It was late, the moon hanging low in the sky, when Li Xuan felt it—a faint, almost imperceptible sensation, like the brush of a cool breeze on his skin. His breath hitched, his focus sharpening as he inhaled again, slowly, carefully. This time, there was no mistaking it. The Qi—it was there, in the air, just as the scroll had said. And it was moving, swirling around them, waiting to be drawn in.
"Li Jian," he whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I can feel it."
Li Jian, who had been half-asleep, jolted awake. "What?"
"The Qi... it's there. I can feel it."
Li Jian scrambled to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he watched his brother. "Show me."
With trembling hands, Li Xuan guided his brother through the breathing techniques, feeling the weight of something far greater than either of them settle upon their shoulders. It was a small step, a faint flicker of progress, but it was enough. Enough to kindle the flame of ambition that had been smoldering inside them for so long.
"Maybe we're not as hopeless as we thought," Li Jian muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Li Xuan smiled, though his mind was already racing ahead, imagining the possibilities, the potential that lay just beyond their reach.
They had found the first spark. Now, all they had to do was fan it into a roaring flame.
Thus, the brothers took their first tentative steps onto the path of cultivation, unaware of the vast, treacherous journey that awaited them. A journey that would lead them through the depths of despair and the heights of power, through the mud of the slums to the stars above.