Quiet rain dropped from the expanding clouds, moistening the grass with fresh dew.
The calm breeze gently cooled the child looking through an open window with a stoic expression, lost in the grand stream of thought. He slowly breathed in the moist air of the rainy morning with complex feelings brewing inside his childish mind and heart. All the while, a few drops of cool rain landed upon his olive-colored face. The dark scene reflected across his monolid dark-brown eyes.
Light steps through the wet land quietly approached, echoed by a rhythmic grinding of rock-like materials colliding and clashing against one another. The calm ten-year-old quickly ran down the sturdy stairs of the house he helped build, glimpsing at the shadowy figure in the distance.
As it got closer, the shadowy figure became clear; he was a man with a 1.8-meter tall and well-built body. He looked like a mature version of the child who had just opened the heavy door. He had his curly brown hair tied up into a ball of wildness behind his head, the remainder gliding backward in the wind, oddly granting this man a valiant air.
The child happily greeted this man with a fist-and-palm salute and a high-pitched voice, "Welcome back, Dad." After receiving the gesture back, he plainly inquired, "Did the trade go well?"
His question's answer; was already revealed to the child through the clattering stones in the bag by his father's side. "Of course, no mortal here would dare scam me." His Dad's voice was gentle and low, as instead, his strength carried into the volume of his steps on the wooden floor of the house he built with his son. He quietly sat down at the long table in the kitchen, this table that showed his past dreams of having a large family to carry his bloodline. "Come, take a seat, Fenhua." He gestured to his son, Huo Fenhua, to sit across from him.
The two looked at each quietly; Huo Fenhua's father reached down towards his bag, pulling out two cups and a bag of leaves. He placed a few leaves carefully into each cup. Then he pulled a small container from his bag. From the container, he poured boiling water into the cups. A fragrant scent bloomed from each cup as he walked across the room. He handed Huo Fenhua a cup, then sat down again.
He sighed, breaking eye contact with his son for just a moment falling into reminisce, then looked back up again. "Are you still sure you want to join the Starlight Soul Sect?" He questioned with a half-shaky half-imposing tone.
Huo Fenhua swallowed the lump in his throat. His resolve to say yes wavered before this simple question. Even though he desperately wanted to say no, and stay with his father. He steeled his resolve before it fell to pieces and replied, "Yes."
His father smiled with pride seeing his son growing up to make his own decision. Regardless of the answer given, he would have presented this outward reaction. Inside his heart, he wished his son said no, but he understood his son had ambitions to reach higher, and no good father would go against that. If his son desired higher, then he would aid him to soar and pierce all heavenly limitations.
With a slight nod, he sipped his tea, which his son imitated, and replied flatly, "It's decided then, the token will allow you entry into the sect next year, exactly three months after your birthday." He then downed the rest of his tea, got up from his chair, and stepped towards the door, "I'll be back, do not allow anyone inside."
Right before the door shut, "Put the clay pot over the fire, keep refilling it with water every 30 minutes until I return," He quickly said before he left.
Huo Fenhua hastily stood up from his chair and began to do everything he was supposed to do. Once he finished his tasks, he moved on to things he wanted to do.
While stoically practicing a simple downward slash from different starting positions over and over with a wooden sword, he noticed his father's spear was gone. The spear being gone meant to Huo Fenhua that his father would be hunting himself, and the meat would be extra fresh!
He continuously rehearsed the beginner level swordsmanship for the first thirty minutes, replenished the water, and began to recite poems from the window of his humble room upstairs, examining the moon that was barely in view, "Men have sorrow and joy. They part and meet again, like sun and moon's ploy. The moon is bright or dim. There has been nothing perfect since your very last visit."
…
Thirty minutes later, his father returned with a large, filleted fish. He casually tossed some vegetables from his bag into the clay pot. He then started a second fire nearby from a previously set up campfire. He had skewered the filleted fish with sticks and put them above the weak flames.
Flipped ten minutes later and taken off the fire ten minutes after that. He cut the cooked fish into bite-sized pieces and tossed them in with the vegetables.
To avoid running inside and getting the seasonings, he spoke loudly and delegated the task to Huo Fenhua, who was happy to help his father. Huo Fenhua's Dad took two items from separate bags tied to his side, one was a wooden bead, and the other was from a bag filled with blue stones; this was the same bag Huo Fenhua had heard clattering earlier. The simple wooden bead was thrown underneath the pot, drastically increasing the flame's temperature. His hands were now free; he used this newfound freedom to crush the cloudy blue stone with his hands brutally, then with a mortar and pestle. The blue powder was fed and mixed into the soup, and he immediately constantly stirred the soup.
After a few minutes, the flames died down to a simmer, and he plopped a lid on top of the clay pot after throwing in a few more ingredients to make it flavorful and filling.
He subtly entered the house again and informed Huo Fenhua that he'd have finished cooking in ten minutes.
Those ten minutes would be an excruciatingly painful battle against time that would strengthen his soul and will to a level beyond even immortals!
Once he obtained the food, he believed he could achieve enlightenment and directly ascend to an infinite level of unrivaled power. Though, this would not compare to the following year.
The two would treasure the following year they would spend together, the father taking more time off from working and the son taking each moment he could to enjoy the little time he had before he became a disciple of one of the nine Great Sects.