Chapter Four: Shadows of Aptitude
The morning air was crisp as Li Yan walked beside Old Bai, the mountain path winding toward the quiet corner of the village where the elders kept their records—and where the Aptitude Stone lay. Though it wasn't an official ceremony, a small crowd had gathered, their murmurs filling the air as they whispered about why Li Yan, of all people, would be going for another test. Some, who had known him since he was a boy, raised their brows skeptically, and a few cast pitying glances.
This wasn't the first time Li Yan had tested himself with the Aptitude Stone. In fact, he'd tried multiple times over the years, starting from a young age, each attempt ending in the same disappointing result. No reaction, no glimmer of potential—just silence from the stone, marking him, in the village's eyes, as someone who had no talent for cultivation. In a place where rare talents could change one's fate, the stone had been his only chance of stepping beyond the life of a farmer. But each attempt had branded him as the boy who clung to impossible dreams, stubbornly refusing to accept that his future lay nowhere near the path of a cultivator.
Old Bai, though a quiet and somewhat withdrawn figure, had always encouraged him to try. And each time the stone lay unresponsive, he had watched his grandson's expression grow more determined. Li Yan's persistence hadn't gone unnoticed; it had become something of a tale in the village—a story they shared as they nodded knowingly and dismissed him as stubborn or unrealistic.
One person, however, had always seemed to delight in each failure: a crooked old man named Hu. He stood at the edge of the gathering now, his sly grin visible as he watched Li Yan with an expression of barely concealed satisfaction.
Hu was known in the village for his bitter streak and his penchant for causing trouble. He and Old Bai had never gotten along, and years ago, Old Bai had given him more than a few bruises for his meddling ways. When Hu's grandson, Ji Yuan, had been tested by the Aptitude Stone three years prior, the stone had glowed so brightly that the village elders had called it a phenomenon—a talent seen only once in a generation. From that day forward, Hu had carried himself with an air of smugness, his resentment toward Old Bai and his "talentless" grandson only growing. He had never missed an opportunity to mock Li Yan's failures, always reveling in the boy's supposed lack of skill.
As Li Yan approached the stone, Hu's grating voice carried through the crowd. "Back again, Li Yan?" he called out, loud enough for all to hear. "You must enjoy the sight of that stone ignoring you, eh? Some people never learn."
Old Bai shot the old man a look that could have turned fire to ice, but he remained silent, his hand resting on Li Yan's shoulder in a show of calm solidarity. Li Yan ignored Hu's taunts, his gaze fixed on the Aptitude Stone as he reached out to place his hand on it once more.
The stone felt cool beneath his palm, its smooth surface familiar after all these years. Taking a deep breath, he focused inward, feeling for the flame that now resided within him. The warmth in his chest was steady, a comforting presence, and he focused on it, letting the flame settle into a calm rhythm, inviting it to harmonize with the stone's energy.
For a moment, Li Yan felt a flicker of hope. The flame pulsed within him, steady and sure, and he held his breath, waiting for the stone to react.
But there was nothing. The stone remained silent, its surface dull and unresponsive, as if mocking his efforts.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, whispers of "same as always" and "still talentless" reaching his ears. Li Yan's jaw tightened, and he forced himself to keep his expression steady, ignoring the disappointment that prickled in his chest.
Hu chuckled, leaning on his cane as he nudged one of the nearby villagers. "See? The boy's still as talentless as ever. No amount of wishing will change that." His laughter grated, and a few others joined in, some shaking their heads sympathetically, others nodding in smug agreement.
Old Bai's face hardened, his gaze never leaving Hu. But before he could respond, Li Yan took a step back, his face calm but his mind whirling with frustration. He had felt Feiyan's flame within him, had even begun to cultivate Qi through the Breath of the Phoenix Ascendant. He was a cultivator now, or at least he should have been. And yet, the Aptitude Stone—his last chance to prove his worth to the village—showed nothing. It was as if his connection to Feiyan's flame was invisible, hidden from the world.
"Of course the stone doesn't recognize you," Feiyan's voice echoed in his mind, her tone laced with disdain. "Did you really think a village trinket could measure my flame? You are no ordinary cultivator, boy. My power isn't something that fits within the constraints of their tests."
Li Yan's fingers curled slightly, frustration tightening his throat, but he held his emotions in check. "So… does this mean I don't have any talent? Or is it just your flame hiding it?"
"Talent?" Feiyan's voice scoffed, her tone unimpressed. "You have potential, but talent alone means nothing. My flame isn't interested in petty measurements. If you seek validation from these villagers, you'll find yourself disappointed."
Li Yan let out a slow breath, her words sinking in. Feiyan's essence was unique, something that didn't conform to traditional cultivation methods or tools. If her presence masked his aptitude, then he would have to find other ways to measure his progress.
Old Bai looked at him, his face impassive, though his gaze held a faint hint of reassurance. "Do not let this discourage you, Li Yan. Feiyan's flame is beyond what most would understand. The stone may not recognize your potential, but that doesn't mean it isn't there."
Li Yan met his grandfather's eyes and gave a small nod, feeling a sense of quiet determination settling over him. He would prove himself, even if the villagers saw him as talentless. He didn't need the stone's recognition to know what he was capable of. Feiyan's flame was his alone, a connection that went deeper than any tool or measure could reveal.
Hu's mocking laughter continued, but Li Yan tuned it out, focusing instead on the warmth in his chest, the steady flame that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. This flame was his strength, his proof, even if the world couldn't see it. And one day, he would show them.
As he and Old Bai left the stone chamber, the villagers dispersed, some shaking their heads, others muttering to each other. Hu's voice followed them as they walked away, his words sharp and cutting. "A shame, isn't it, Bai? You must be so proud of your grandson—what was it, the fifth time he's tried? Some people just don't know when to quit."
Old Bai turned, his gaze hard as stone. "Some people should keep their opinions to themselves," he replied coolly. Hu smirked, undeterred, and his laughter echoed as they left the village square.
As they left the stone chamber and walked in silence back toward Old Bai's cottage, Li Yan felt a familiar presence stir within him. Feiyan's voice, clear and unimpressed as ever, echoed in his mind.
"If you're done fretting over the villagers' opinions, perhaps you're ready to understand why Qi Gathering has been difficult for you."
Li Yan frowned, listening intently.
"Unlike ordinary cultivators, you hold a greater pool of Qi within you—more depth, more potential, and therefore, more resistance." Feiyan's tone was matter-of-fact, almost dismissive. "Most cultivators only draw upon what's immediately accessible, the easiest energy to gather. But you, with my flame, have to reach deeper, and it will require more discipline."
Realization settled over him. No wonder he had struggled so much in his initial attempts. Ordinary cultivators had a shallower pool to work with, allowing them to gather Qi quickly and without as much effort. But his connection with Feiyan had given him something greater—something that demanded more patience and control.
"So… this is why it felt like I was fighting against the flame when I started?" he asked, piecing it together.
"Precisely," Feiyan replied, her tone sharper. "You have potential, but it comes with a price. The Qi you access is vast, but if you can't learn to control it, it will overwhelm you. Ordinary cultivators may find Qi Gathering easy, but they lack the depth you now carry."
Li Yan absorbed her words, his previous frustration easing into a quiet understanding. This was his path, difficult but uniquely his, and though it came with challenges, it also held the potential for something far beyond what ordinary cultivators could achieve.
Feiyan's presence grew faint, her voice trailing off. "Do not waste this, boy. Master it, and you'll understand why I chose you."
Li Yan nodded to himself. As night settled over the village, Li Yan sat in his room, mind racing with thoughts about his future. The day's events replayed in his head: the stone's stubborn silence, Hu's taunts, Feiyan's sharp words. Everything seemed to tug him in a new direction, though he wasn't quite sure where that direction would lead.
Meanwhile, in the main room of the cottage, Old Bai was mulling over his own plans. He'd sent countless letters since the day they saw that strange light in the forest—letters that went unanswered. He'd hoped to hear from someone, anyone, who might offer guidance or instructions about Li Yan and Feiyan's flame. But the silence had told him what he needed to know: his mission was over. Li Yan had connected with the flame, and there was nothing left for him here.
Old Bai grunted, running a hand through his beard. "Time to go," he muttered to himself. He knew Li Yan was in good hands with Feiyan's guidance. Plus, the boy was clever, if not a bit stubborn, and that was probably enough to get him through. Old Bai's job was done. He'd done his duty, raised the boy, and now it was time for the next chapter—whatever that might be.
But before he left, he had one last piece of "unfinished business." That business had a name: old man Hu.
The thought of Hu made Old Bai chuckle to himself. For years, Hu had taunted Li Yan, mocking his lack of talent and spreading rumors of Old Bai's "wasted efforts" on his supposedly "talentless" grandson. And ever since Hu's grandson had been tested as a prodigy, the old man had taken to walking around like he was the emperor himself, his nose so high in the air it might catch raindrops.
Old Bai glanced around the room, grabbed his walking stick, and nodded to himself. "Time to pay Hu a visit," he muttered, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.
It didn't take long for Old Bai to find Hu; the man was, predictably, standing outside his house, gossiping with a few villagers about Li Yan's "failure" that day. Hu was in his element, laughing loudly and gesturing in a way that made it clear he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Old Bai strolled up, his expression perfectly calm. "Evening, Hu."
Hu turned, his eyes narrowing. "Bai. Here to defend that talentless boy of yours?"
Old Bai just smiled, the kind of smile that made everyone take a step back. "Actually, Hu, I'm here to make sure you remember what respect is."
Before Hu could even blink, Old Bai jabbed him in the side with his walking stick—not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to make the old man yelp and stumble back.
"Remember all those times you said I was wasting my time on Li Yan?" Old Bai said, raising his walking stick with a grin. "Well, I figure I'll make up for that time now."
Hu tried to respond, but Old Bai had already moved in, delivering a swift, well-placed nudge to the back of his knee that sent him down with a thud. The villagers watching nearby gasped, eyes wide as they watched Hu sputtering in shock on the ground.
Old Bai leaned in, his voice calm and almost pleasant. "Now, why don't you keep your opinions to yourself from now on, hm? I think it'd do wonders for that smug streak of yours."
And with that, Old Bai gave Hu one final, light shove for good measure and strolled away, leaving the crowd whispering and Hu spluttering.
When Old Bai returned to the cottage, Li Yan was standing at the doorway, having heard some of the commotion. He looked at his grandfather, trying to hide a grin. "Grandfather… what exactly did you do?"
Old Bai shrugged, looking innocent. "Oh, just reminding an old friend to keep his opinions where they belong. Now, about this…" He gestured vaguely. "It's time for me to go, Li Yan. My part here is finished. You've got Feiyan's flame, and I think you can manage just fine."
Li Yan's smile faded a bit, confusion settling over his face. "Wait, go? Where are you going?"
Old Bai gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just off to find whatever's next. Don't worry. You've got Feiyan's guidance, and you've got that stubborn mind of yours—more than enough for the road ahead." He gave a wink. "Besides, I have a feeling you'll be just fine. And I'll be around, one way or another."
Li Yan tried to process this, but before he could say much more, Old Bai ruffled his hair, grabbed his pack, and disappeared into the night with nothing more than a wave and a grin, leaving Li Yan standing in the doorway, shaking his head.
If there was one thing he'd learned from his grandfather, it was that some things weren't worth questioning.