I observed my father's ring, which slowly spun between my fingers, its faint glow reflecting the little light filtering through the room. A question arose, unexpected and heavy: why hadn't I left it in his tomb?
Perhaps, in the deepest corner of my soul, I wasn't ready to part with the last vestige of him… and of her. That ring wasn't just an object; it was the thread still connecting their souls, a fragile strand resisting the passage of time, caught between memory and void.
I closed my eyes, letting an image rise as if I were calling it from the depths of my memory: my mother, sitting by the window. Her silhouette was outlined by the pale light of the sunset, her gaze lost in the horizon as if waiting for something that would never come.
Her fingers traced the ring, a repeated motion so many times that it had worn down the floor beneath her chair.
—Mother… —I whispered, breaking the oppressive silence that filled the house. But the void didn't respond.
I found myself trapped in a sea of uncertainty. Every fiber of my being burned with a single purpose: to avenge those who had taken my family. But even with that determination, I knew the truth. It wasn't enough. I was a mere mortal, insignificant against the overwhelming power of cultivators. They transcended human limitations, manipulating the very essence of the world and defying logic with techniques that bordered on the divine. Even immortality was within their reach.
If I wanted revenge, I needed more than a weapon. I needed power. Power to destroy them, to protect what was left of me. But how could a mortal like me reach that world? I had no guide, no knowledge, only a void that seemed to consume me from within.
Amid the confusion, a memory emerged like a star in the darkness: old Li, sitting by the fire. His voice resonated in my mind, with the measured cadence of one who knows secrets others have forgotten:
—In the great primordial era, when the sky and earth were created, and the stars illuminated the work of the gods, the Great Mother Earth was born. Raised by divine power, she became the home of all living creatures. And among them, her first child, Taixian, the Beloved Son, was born.
Old Li's words flowed like a river, intertwining with my thoughts. Taixian, the first… The story began to take shape, its narrative alive like an echo that hadn't lost strength over time.
In the beginning of time, when the sky still had no boundaries and the earth breathed its first breath, Taixian, the Beloved Son of the Great Mother Earth, was born. He was her firstborn, shaped by the infinite love of a creator. His body carried the essence of the mountains, the serenity of the rivers, and the strength of the winds. No creature could harm him, for he was a pure extension of the world's balance.
Taixian explored the vast world with eyes full of curiosity, unafraid, absorbing everything he saw. But, with time, a longing grew within him. A deep call stirred him, as if something from the very roots of creation urged him to go further.
One night, from the top of a mountain, he gazed at the stars. He stretched out his hand to the sky, and one of them responded, sending a flash of energy that enveloped his body. In that moment, Taixian understood that he was not only part of the earth but also of the sky, a union that bound him to all that existed.
Thus, he discovered the first secret of cultivation: the entire world, the earth and the sky, were not merely his home, but a source of infinite power. This power was not a tool; it was the essence of existence, a gift from the Great Mother and the firmament.
Guided by an instinctive need for connection, Taixian began to absorb the energy of the stars and the earth. In his meditations, he could hear the pulse of the rivers, the whisper of the leaves, and the song of the wind. His body filled with strength and light, but what set him apart was his purity: he cultivated not to dominate but to understand his place in the vast tapestry of creation.
The beings of the earth revered him, calling him the Beloved Son, for even at the height of his power, Taixian never strayed from balance. He was one with the world.
And so, Taixian, the first to walk the path of cultivation, became a symbol of harmony, a reminder that true strength lay in connection with all.
I opened my eyes, the echo of the story still vibrating in my mind.
—I still don't understand anything —I murmured, a bitter grimace crossing my face as I gazed at the ring in my hand. Bai Xuebing scratched his head, frowning as he tried to decipher the old Li's tale.
—I understand that I need natural energy to cultivate, but how am I supposed to get it? —I muttered, letting my hand drop in frustration—. It would be much easier if I had a manual… or at least someone to explain it to me.
I sighed, tucking the ring into my pocket with a heavy gesture. Getting up felt like trying to tear myself away from deep roots I didn't want to leave behind.
—Before my mind burns like fire, I better get things ready —I said, though the truth was I needed a distraction.
Without further delay, I started rummaging through the house, looking for something I could take with me. Every corner was a reminder of what I had lost. I knew I couldn't stay there any longer. That place was no longer a home but a prison of ashes and memories that threatened to consume me. If I wanted revenge, I first needed to become strong, and for that, I had to leave everything behind.
I checked every corner, but the only useful things I found were some tanned hides and worn-out tools. The essentials had been devoured by the fire… along with everything else. My weapons hadn't survived either. Even my axe, which had been part of me for as long as I could remember, had shattered that night.
—Tsk… damn it.
I remembered, with a sickening feeling in my stomach, the weapons left behind by those heartless bastards. They were stained with my people's blood, but they were quality tools, better than anything we had ever owned in the village. Heavy, with a strange balance in my hands, but they were all I had.
—I guess I have no choice… —I murmured, as the cold weight of the steel rested in my palms. The feeling was bitter, as if something was being torn from me just by holding them, but I knew I couldn't be picky.
I continued searching. Every object, every corner, offered me a decision: what to take and what to leave. It was as practical as it was painful, a reminder that I couldn't stay, that I was leaving not just a place, but a life.
When I moved the old chair where he used to sit, a different creak caught my attention. I stopped, the sound resonating in the silence like a whisper in a tomb.
—What was that? —I murmured, leaning down to inspect the worn wood of the floor.
At first, I thought the boards had weakened over time, but the sound was too different, too firm. I moved the chair again, listening closely, and something inside me stirred. Curiosity overcame exhaustion, and I crouched to examine it.
As I leaned down, my knee hit harder than I intended, breaking a board. The hollow space I discovered underneath froze me for a moment.
—A hidden compartment? —I whispered, blinking at the unexpected find.
I pushed aside the broken fragments, my hands trembling, though I wasn't sure whether from excitement or exhaustion. Inside the hollow was a fine white cloth bag, decorated with delicate golden embroidery, tied with a red ribbon. It seemed strangely intact, as though time or fire had never touched it.
But that wasn't all that was there. My gaze fixed on a box lying beneath. It was covered in seals that faintly glowed with a reddish hue, and it emanated a heavy, almost oppressive energy. The air around it seemed denser, as if something alive dwelled inside.
I stood frozen, my fingers barely brushing the surface of the wood. A chill ran down my spine, and the feeling that I had unearthed something I shouldn't have overtook me.
—What is this? —my voice was barely a whisper, just enough breath to form words while the dark aura of the box surrounded me, heavy and full of secrets.
Bai Xuebing frowned, unable to comprehend what was before him. What were these things? Why were they hidden beneath his house? An unsettling sensation filled his mind as his eyes swept over the objects.
—Father… —I whispered, unable to look away.
My mind filled with questions. I remembered how my father always sat in that chair, as if watching over something important, something that now lay before me. But he was no longer here to answer my questions. Now, only these objects remained as silent witnesses to an unknown purpose.
Fighting an odd impulse, I set the sealed box aside. Something in its aura warned me that I wasn't ready to face it yet. Instead, I took the white and gold cloth bag. My heart pounded as I carefully untied the red ribbon.
Inside, I found four things: a black book and two white ones, a small bag, and a picture. But it was the latter that caught my full attention.
It was a portrait of my parents… but not as I remembered them. They wore white robes adorned with the symbol of a rising dragon. Their faces were serene, smiling, almost unrecognizable to me. In the background, a three-peaked mountain rose majestically, surrounded by a landscape I had never seen before.
A dull thud echoed in my chest, a weight I hadn't known I carried began to drag me down.
My parents, those I remembered as humble villagers, looked different. Elegant.
Powerful. And, above all, happy. That happiness, which now hurt so much, was now just a memory the picture kept alive.
An emptiness opened within me. That smile on their faces… I couldn't understand it. I couldn't accept that they had gone with so many things hidden, leaving me alone in a world that now seemed stranger and crueler than ever.
A tear fell without my control. I hugged the picture tightly, pressing it to my chest as if that could bring them back.
—No… don't leave. Please… I still need you —I whispered, as my tears fell on the picture, clouding my parents' smiles.
For a moment, I was a child again, a lost child who just wanted everything to return to how it was before. But reality doesn't turn back, and the pain forced me to straighten up.
I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand and focused again on the other objects.
Inside the small bag, I found three pills. They were small and round, with a strange glow that reflected the light as if they were alive. My mind began to fill with questions.
I knew enough to understand that they weren't just simple medicines. In this world, pills were artifacts created by alchemists, cultivators with the ability to transform rare ingredients into miracles… or poisons. Alchemy was not just knowledge; it was an art deeply connected to the Dao, an expression of the soul and the understanding of its creator.
—What secrets do these things hold? —I murmured, weighing them cautiously.
Setting the pills aside, I picked up the black book. Its title, Paths of Starry Light, glowed faintly, as if the ink responded to my touch. I opened it, and soon realized it wasn't just any book.
It was a cultivation manual, containing information about cultivation, pills, weapons, and more.
Each page was decorated with intricate diagrams and explanations detailing the first stages of the cultivation path. From correct breathing to meditative postures designed to align energy with the cosmos, everything was meticulously described.
A flash of hope crossed my mind. I had found what I needed, a map to navigate this cruel world.
—This… this is exactly what I was looking for. It's all here —I said, my voice trembling with a mix of excitement and relief.
But my excitement shattered when I reached the last page. At the bottom margin was a name: my mother's name. My throat closed as I tried to comprehend what it meant.
A letter fell from the book, drifting softly to the ground. I picked it up with trembling hands. The paper, yellowed with age, carried an aura of familiarity that filled me with uncertainty and longing.
I opened it, and the first words made my heart stop.
"If you're reading this, it's because Long thought the time had come to reveal the truth to you. I suppose he's already told you everything…"
—No, he didn't… —I murmured, feeling how frustration mixed with sadness inside me.
The next line brought a faint smile to my face, despite the weight of my emotions:
"I imagine that absent-minded father of yours didn't tell you, haha."
That laugh, so characteristic of my mother, pierced me like a dagger. It was the essence of her voice, the warmth I could now only imagine.
—Mother… —I said, with a broken smile that barely concealed the pain in my heart.
I kept reading, my breath quickening with each word. "Don't worry, I'll tell you everything. I wrote it all in advance, knowing that foolish father of yours would either forget or simply refuse to tell you so that you wouldn't be looking for me."
The letter wasn't just a message. It was a door, a window to a past buried under lies and time. With each line, I felt how the emptiness in my chest began to fill with something else… determination.
I prepared myself to uncover the truth, knowing that this time there would be no turning back.
"Before I tell you why I had to leave, I must reveal the truth about us, about me and Long."
We come from the Tianxing continent, from the lands of Yǒng Tiān Shān Mài, where our sect, the Ascending Dragon, rules alongside the other five great sects.
I was born as the daughter of the Sect Master, which put me in a difficult position. My fate was sealed: an arranged marriage, as was customary among us, to secure alliances and benefits for the sect.
I knew what my role was, and I accepted it without resistance. It was my duty.
As a direct descendant of the sect's founder and the daughter of the leader, I also had to learn martial arts and cultivate. Not only because it was an obligation, but because in our world, the first thing one must do is cultivate and seek immortality.
So I dedicated myself to it, following the sect's method. My skills grew, I rose in rank, and I began carrying out missions in the name of the sect. That was when I first saw him.
Long Qiang. A young man with black hair cascading like a waterfall, pale skin like snow, and a fierce but kind gaze. At first, he seemed like a cold, distant warrior, strong and unrelenting. But on one of our missions, I got to know him better.
I discovered he was quite funny, and even a little silly. Despite his serious warrior appearance, his essence was warm, his kindness genuine. He was so different from me. I was the sect's "Ice Princess," known for my cold gaze and reserved personality. Long and I were like day and night.
At first, we didn't get along. Our temperaments clashed: I, with my cold discipline, and him, with his carefree and warm spirit. However, after spending time together, something began to change. I was the one who started to transform… all because of his father.
Our relationship grew closer, and love bloomed. But due to my position, we had to keep it a secret. The daughter of the Sect Master should not get involved with anyone; my fate was to remain alone until the day I was married off to someone chosen by the sect.
But Long didn't stand idly by. He decided to get stronger and earned merits within the sect.
During a great war, he made a decisive contribution, and his bravery was recognized by all.
He achieved an honorable position that allowed him to marry me, and no one could oppose it. Even my father, the Sect Master, accepted our union. He didn't do it just out of duty; he did it from the bottom of his heart. Despite being the leader, for once, he put aside his responsibilities and gave me his blessing as a father, not as a master.
However, before we could proclaim our relationship, something terrible happened: someone set a trap for my father. He was betrayed by the elders of the sect, all as part of a plan by the Celestial Heron sect.
My father had no choice but to accept the terms of that sect: I had to be engaged to the son of the leader of the Celestial Heron sect. The reasons were unknown, but in my father's gaze, I could see his fear. Despite the harm he and the sect might suffer, he helped me escape with Long.
—Father… —whispered Bai Hanlian, his voice cracking.
—Don't cry, my daughter —responded Bai Tianyi, the sect leader, with a calm as powerful as it was sorrowful—. Everything will be fine. Just go… I know I leave you in good hands, right, Long?
—Yes, sir —Long said, without thinking. Seeing the leader's bitter expression, he corrected himself, immediately bowing—. Yes… father.
—That's better —said Bai Tianyi with a faint smile—. After accepting you as my daughter's husband, you are now also my son. And as a father… I have a duty to protect my children.
He turned to them with a determined gaze: "Quickly, go."
That's how my father helped us escape. He covered us while we ran, his figure growing more distant, imposing, despite the enemies closing in on him.
But before we could cross the Zhuhai Sea, the two sects found us. They chased us with fury. Your father, Long, faced them, eliminating them one by one. That sacrifice cost him his cultivation, but because of it, we managed to escape. And we reached this continent, this village where our family could finally flourish. Where you, my children, were born and brought the joy I had thought impossible.
But the shadow of our past caught up with us. Someone from the sect found us, and to protect you, I had to leave.
Your father and I fought, but with his cultivation broken and the overwhelming power of our enemy, we had no hope of winning. I wasn't going to let you die.
Fortunately, the one who found us was an old friend of Long, someone who, though loyal to the sect, still had some compassion. He forgave us with one condition: that I go with him, and in return, he would lie to the sect about you and Long.
To save you, to protect you, I had to leave. Forgive me, my children, for not being with you…
The letter was stained with dry, blurry tear marks, showing the weight of the pain with which each word had been written.
"I hope my children are well, that Long is well. Perhaps one day we'll meet again. I leave these gifts for all three of you. Be strong, like your father. I love you all so much..."
The letter ended. Bai Xuebing slowly lowered the sheet and looked at the objects before him, finally understanding the gifts his mother had managed to leave us despite everything.
Tears of sadness ran down his face as he clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. A tremor of rage rose from deep within his chest, growing in intensity until his voice broke the silence.
—Celestial Heron Sect… I will never forgive you…! Never!
The echo of his vow reverberated in the room, a promise of revenge that would not die until every debt was paid, until every guilty person faced the justice of his hatred.
Bai Xuebing continued crying as he held the objects in his hands, finally understanding the value of each one and the meaning they held. Through his sobs, he turned the pages of the book and began his study with fervor; if there was one thing he had understood from that letter, it was that he had to become strong. His mother and father had made unimaginable sacrifices for him, and he had no right to give up.
When he reached the part about the pills, his eyes fixed on the name that echoed in his mind like a promise: "Xīngchén Qǐmíng Dān." These rare pills, according to what he read, allowed the user to awaken their origin core, the first step on the cultivation path. He then noticed that the three pills in his hands were just that, one for him and… the others for his siblings.
His hands trembled, the weight of the loss pressing on his chest. Those pills, so precious and carefully prepared, now would only be his.
With a choked whisper, he murmured:
—I promise… I will become strong…
Determined, Bai Xuebing continued reading the book with fierce concentration, going over each line, each word. He knew he couldn't afford to forget anything; this knowledge was his only hope and his only inheritance. If he made even one mistake in the cultivation method, the consequences wouldn't just be failure. A careless mistake could mean death… or something worse: permanent disability, with no possibility of cultivating.
He took a deep breath, letting each instruction carve itself into his mind. He felt how the weight of his decision filled him with a mix of fear and determination, and, even with tears barely dried on his face, a light of resolve ignited in his eyes, a flame from the depths of hell burning within him.