Chereads / Fallen Heir / Chapter 6 - Chapter 6: Unease

Chapter 6 - Chapter 6: Unease

Xuan froze, a deep unease settling over him. For a moment, the spider just stared at him—not at his face, but at his only remaining hand, as if studying it. Then, without warning, it scuttled out of sight, vanishing into the shadows.

His heart pounded, and instinctively, his eyes darted to his left hand. Ever since he woke up, he had noticed it—a tattoo of a spider etched into his skin. He hadn't thought much of it at first, or rather he hadn't been in the place of mind to care, but now, with the appearance of the larger spider, maybe he should care.

He recalled that it wasn't just the big spider just now. In all his time at Jin's house he had been surrounded by spiders. At first, he thought it was a coincidence—just a few spiders crawling along the walls of Jin's home. But now, he felt that they were drawn to him. He recalled that each night, they had clustered near his bed, some even resting on his pillow.

He had asked Jin about the spider tattoo before, but Jin had only shrugged.

"I don't know," Jin had admitted, frowning. "It was there when I found you. Maybe a mark left by some beast. I've never seen anything like it."

At the time, Xuan had been preoccupied with healing and finding his family, so he pushed the mystery of the tattoo to the back of his mind. But now, he felt he couldn't ignore it anymore.

As he continued thinking about the large spider and the tattoo on his hand, something seemed to click—a memory he had repressed. He recalled a hazy, unclear image lurking in the depths of his mind. It felt distant, like a dream he wasn't sure he had lived. He saw a spider, but not a normal one. It had long, spindly legs that extended outward, each joint sharp and segmented like blades. Its body was armored with dark, chitinous plates, and it had a cluster of blood-red eyes, faintly glowing with streaks of green.

Xuan's breath hitched as he looked down at his hand again. The tattoo mirrored the memory perfectly. And as if sensing his recognition, the tattoo seemed to flicker, its inky form shifting slightly beneath his skin.

A chill ran down his spine.

Whatever this was—it wasn't a coincidence.

„What's going on, Mei?" He exhaled slowly, trying to use Mei's name to calm his racing thoughts.

---

For days after, Xuan tried to make sense of it. He examined the tattoo whenever he had the chance, watching for signs of movement, looking out for another appearance of the large spider. But it never came. No matter how hard he tried, the meaning behind the mark eluded him. The tattoo remained an mystery, and with time, as no new answers surfaced, he was forced to push it to the back of his mind again.

There were still more pressing concerns—his body needed healing, and his strength needed rebuilding.

As the days passed, Xuan's body gradually healed and his veins stopped aching, but the constant ache of his missing arm never fully went away. And whenever it got too much, whenever the weight of everything seemed to hard to bear, he would grab his necklace and think about Mei.

Slowly, Xuan began to regain his strength, pushing his body to move again. At first, he needed Jin's support just to take a few steps, but eventually, he managed to walk on his own. Each step was accompanied by a small, controlled smile, though it never quite reached his eyes.

Jin had insisted he should smile, or at least try. "You need to seem burden-free," Jin had told him, "so you don't appear weak to the traders." He wanted the smile to become second nature, a constant mask of strength. And Xuan complied. It burned, the effort hollow and exhausting, but he forced the corners of his mouth to curve ever so slightly.

Jin wanted him to keep that smile even when he wasn't watching. But for now, it was harder than Xuan could manage. He barely succeeded in forcing the expression when Jin or his daughter were nearby, careful not to show weakness. He knew he needed to appear strong. If he couldn't even convince Jin and his daughter, then how would he ever convince the traders when the time came? That's what he kept telling himself, as the small, hollow smile gradually became second nature.

But the nights told a different story.

Every night, as the house grew silent and the weight of the day's efforts pressed down on him, Xuan was left alone with his thoughts. It was in these moments, when the mask slipped, that the nightmares came.

In his sleep, his mind would return to the day he lost his arm, to the screams of Mei. He would relive it—the sharp crack of pain as the beast's attack severed his arm and Mei's terror stricken face—the last time he saw her face, swiftly replaced by a sudden darkness.

Each night, Xuan would wake up, breathless and drenched in sweat, his remaining hand clutching the blanket so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

In the silence of the night, there were no smiles, no calm façade.

---

During the day, Xuan hid it well. He ventured beyond the house, walking through the village, exploring its quiet corners. Mei-Ling, Jin's daughter, was the only one who greeted him with warmth. She would run up to him, offering wildflowers or asking him to play. He would try to smile at her, his expression gentle but distant, accepting her gifts and joining her games without fully engaging.

She was a distraction—one he welcomed. Her innocence was a brief escape from the gnawing worry that plagued him. But even as he strainedly smiled at her, there was a growing sense of isolation within him.

As Xuan spent more time in the village and his practiced smile almost became second nature, he began to notice something unsettling: the way the villagers looked at him. They never spoke directly to him about it, but the pity in their eyes was unmistakable. It wasn't just his missing arm that drew their sympathy—it was something deeper, something he couldn't yet grasp.

Every time he passed, their gazes lingered a moment too long, their whispers trailing behind him like shadows. Xuan forced a calm smile in response, masking the growing frustration beneath. Jin had taught him to always smile, to project strength in case the traders asked questions. But there was another reason he kept up the act—he hoped that by appearing more approachable, someone might eventually tell him what this was all about.

One afternoon, as Xuan returned from wandering through the village, something else caught his eye—a small, unassuming plant growing in Jin's garden. It almost looked like a common weed. It had always been there, seemingly insignificant. He had never paid much attention to it before. This time, however, something felt different. At first glance, it seemed ordinary, but as Xuan looked closer, he sensed a faint, almost imperceptible energy radiating from it—qi, swirling around the plant like an invisible current. His heart skipped a beat as he focused, the sensation becoming clearer.

Intrigued, he stepped closer, trying to understand.

Nearby, a boy stood near Jin's garden, completely absorbed in observing the flowers. He hadn't noticed Xuan approaching, and seeing that, Xuan quickly seized the opportunity before the boy could slip away like the others had.

"Why does this plant have so much qi?" Xuan asked, his voice low but insistent, pointing to the small plant that had caught his attention.

The boy blinked. "Qi? What are you talking about?"

Xuan frowned, gesturing toward the plant again. "That plant—it's surrounded by qi. Why?"

The boy stared at the plant, then back at Xuan, his expression growing more bewildered. "I don't feel anything. And… no one our age in the village can sense qi yet," he added hesitantly.

No one their age can sense qi yet? Xuan's pulse quickened. But all you had to do was concentrate, and you could feel it. What's going on?

But before he could ask more to clarify, the boy shifted nervously, glancing around after realizing who was talking to him. Sensing the boy's unease, Xuan quickly changed the topic to something more pressing. "Why is everyone looking at me with pity?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The boy's eyes darted around again, his shoulders tensing. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "They're all sorry for you, you know," he muttered, his tone almost conspiratorial.

Xuan blinked, confusion deepening. "Why?"

The boy shrugged, his discomfort growing more apparent. He clearly was just looking for an excuse to leave. "Because of what's coming. You're… unlucky," he replied, the last word lingering uneasily in the air.

"What do you mean by that?" Xuan pressed, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice.

The boy's eyes darted nervously toward the village homes. "Jin—" he started, but then his eyes widened as if he had glimpsed something in the distance. He flinched, panic flashing across his face. "I… I can't say more. My mother would kill me if she knew I was talking to you," he whispered hurriedly, before slipping away in a rush, leaving Xuan standing there.

What did he mean by unlucky? What did the villagers know that he didn't?

---

As his body healed, Xuan also faced another battle—adjusting to life with one arm. Every task, even the simplest ones, had become an exhausting struggle. He fumbled constantly, growing more frustrated each time he tried to eat or put on even the simple clothes Jin had given him. It was during these times that Jin would offer guidance.

"Move slower. Don't rush," Jin would tell him. "Your body will adapt."

It took time, but slowly, Xuan's movements became more deliberate, more controlled. His remaining hand grew stronger, and he learned to compensate for the loss. He found ways to adapt, using his knees to hold things in place or developing new methods to perform tasks he once took for granted. Each day was a small victory, until it wasn't.

Sometimes, on the worst days, he'd sit down, sweat running down his face, staring at the task at hand with his hand trembling as a once simple task felt impossible.

After a particularly difficult day, Xuan sat alone by the fire outside Jin's hut, the weight of his situation pressing down on him. He thought of his family, of Mei, and of the life he once had. And it was during one of these quiet, heavy moments, that Xuan's mind drifted back to his parents' teachings.

His parents had gifted him a cultivation method for his tenth birthday. That method had become imprinted in his mind the moment he first studied it, guiding him to unlock his first node, the heart node, and even allowing him to access a divine ability. But now, without his parents around, he felt lost, like a ship adrift at sea with no compass.

But now he took a deep breath. Now that his body was mostly healed, it was time to pick up his cultivation where he had left off. Xuan slowly steadyed his mind as his fingers brushed the necklace Mei had given him. It was the first time he truly focused on his Heart Node since that desperate moment when he had forced it open.

As he guided qi toward the node, he immediately sensed a difference. This time, the node acted like a gateway, naturally drawing in the energy without the resistance his body had put up at his first tries. The qi swirled toward the Heart Node, flowing as smoothly as water into a pool. But something still felt off.

As the qi reached the node and began to channel through it, a sharp pain lanced through his chest. The flow was jagged, uneven, and every time the qi passed through, the node felt raw—like a wound that hadn't healed. Xuan winced, forcing himself to breathe through the discomfort. It hurt to channel qi through the Heart Node. „Why?"

His chest tightened as the realization struck him. This must be the consequence of forcing it open. In his desperation to save Mei, he had broken through the node, but he hadn't done so properly, and now the damage was clear.

Unsure of what to do, Xuan's mind raced, desperately searching for answers. How do I fix this? I can't become strong if I can't cultivate. And if I'm not strong I can't find my family. What do I do?!

His thoughts spiraled downwards, as panic threatened to take hold. But just as the despair began to tighten its grip, Xuan forced himself to breathe, steadying his thoughts. He had to stay focused.

He weighed his options, and then, a realization struck him: the answers he needed might be within his parents' cultivation manual. He had rushed through it before, eager to start cultivating, but now he understood that it was time to approach it differently. This could be his chance to find a solution.

Determined, Xuan resolved to do what he should have done from the beginning—delve deeper into the cultivation method his parents had entrusted to him. Not just skim through it in haste, but truly study it. This time, he would take his time, absorbing every detail he had previously overlooked.

Xuan sat cross-legged, focusing on the scroll's teachings imprinted in his mind. There he found sections he hadn't paid attention to before. One part stood out in particular: the explanation of what to do if a node was damaged.

"If a node is just slightly damaged," the method said, "it will hurt to channel qi through it, but the node is still salvageable. The cultivator should guide qi gently around the damaged node, covering it with a thin layer of energy. Over time, the node will automatically absorb the qi to heal itself. However, if the node is completely broken, no qi will pass through at all, and only a miracle medicine could restore it."

It's not completely broken. Relief flooded Xuan. He could still channel qi, even though it was painful. That meant there was hope.

Following the instructions, Xuan shifted his focus with no hesitation, quickly gathering qi and then guiding it towards the node. But he didn't push it through—he let the energy rest there, surrounding the Heart Node in a steady flow. Gradually, he felt the pain begin to lessen ever so slightly, and the throbbing sensation in his chest started to ease. The method had been right—the qi was slowly being absorbed by the damaged node, mending it bit by bit.

Xuan's relief was short-lived, though. The process was slow, and after some time, the strain of controlling the qi exhausted him mentally until eventually he had to take a break.

Unable to continue the healing process, his thoughts turned to something else—the divine ability tied to his bloodline.

His mind drifted back to a couple days ago when he used it for the first time at that lake.

The memory was vivid. Mei had been in danger, and desperation had pushed him past his limits. The moment he felt the Heart Node break open, something else had awakened inside him—something that didn't flow through his qi pathways but coursed through his veins. His body had burned with energy, his muscles infused with an unnatural strength. His legs had blurred beneath him as he closed the distance between himself and Mei with impossible speed, faster than any human should have been able to move.

He hadn't understood it then, but now, reflecting on the moment, he realized that the incredible speed he'd gained wasn't just a result of unlocking his Heart Node—it was the manifestation of his bloodline's latent power.

That burst of speed—that was his divine ability. His bloodline power. He hadn't known how he did it, only that he willed it into existence with every fiber of his being. It wasn't qi, but something far more primal, more instinctual.

His parent's cultivation method had mentioned divine abilities. It said that once a cultivator unlocked their bloodline power, they could feel a faint connection to their blood—an energy tied to their heritage.

So following the method, Xuan closed his eyes, letting his focus drift away from the qi pathways and toward the deeper pulse within him.

And there it was. A faint thread, almost imperceptible at first, but it was there—his bloodline power. It felt different from qi—more visceral, like a fire waiting to be ignited.

As he slowly tried to get a better read on that thread of his, he recalled the scroll. It had also mentioned how unique each divine ability was, cautioning that no two were exactly alike. It didn't go into detail about how to control the abilities, because each one was so individual. However, one thing was clear—many divine abilities put a heavy strain on the body when used. In the early stages of cultivation, these abilities could often only be used for short bursts before the body needed time to recover.

Xuan realized that this was exactly what had happened to him. The immense speed he had summoned in his desperation to save Mei had left his veins strained, his body aching from the effort. He hadn't known it then, but his body had reached its limit, and it had needed time to heal.

As time passed with Xuan focusing on his bloodline power, he felt a sense of understanding settle in. He could feel it now—a faint connection to the ability, as if it were a part of him waiting just beneath the surface. If he willed it, the power would come again, ready to propel him forward with that same immense speed.

But he chose not to. His body was still recovering—not just from using the ability, but from everything that had happened. The strain on his veins had mostly healed, but he wasn't willing to risk injuring himself again, not with the traders arriving soon. Pushing himself now, after everything he had gone through, wasn't worth it.

---

Days passed. Xuan spent his time slowly healing his Heart Node. He could feel the node mending bit by bit, and with it, his connection to qi grew stronger. His body was recovering too. Each day, he got more used to his one-armed situation—learning new ways to accomplish simple tasks and pushing himself to become more self-sufficient.

He could feel the change. He was starting to look stronger, more put together. The shadows of weakness and uncertainty that had haunted him after the loss of his arm were beginning to fade, even if only on the surface. He was putting on the facade of a smile proficently now too.

When around four weeks passed since Xuan first woke up in Jin's hut, the village's biggest event of the year approached—the traders' visit.

Xuan's Heart Node had just finished healing as Jin approached him. There was something unusual in his demeanor—something Xuan hadn't seen before.

"They're here," Jin said, his voice measured as he leaned against the doorway. "The traders you've been waiting for."

As he spoke, a grin slowly spread across Jin's face—an unsettling, almost predatory grin that sent a chill through Xuan's chest.

"They're waiting for you."