Chapter Ten: Reflections of Flame
As Li Yan made his way deeper into the forest, putting distance between himself and the scorched battleground where he had faced Shen Cai, his mind replayed the encounter in fragments. The Kunlun Sect—known across the region for its reputation as a righteous, stabilizing force—was not supposed to act in such a manner. For generations, they had maintained order, their disciples praised as protectors of the land, safeguarding both cultivators and commoners alike. It was their principles that supposedly set them apart, ensuring that they would never harm mortals or act on petty whims.
Yet Shen Cai's aggression had shattered that image. His arrogance and hostility toward Li Yan had been unprovoked, and his interest had quickly shifted from suspicion to greed the moment he sensed the faint warmth of Feiyan's flame. The memory of Shen Cai's calculating expression gnawed at Li Yan. If this was how even Kunlun's "righteous" disciples could act, then the world of cultivation was far more treacherous than he had imagined.
What had truly sparked Shen Cai's interest? Li Yan wondered, feeling the weight of Feiyan's power quietly pulsing within him. The warmth he carried was unlike any other Qi; he knew that much now. But how could he protect it, conceal it, in a world where even a hint of rare power could make him a target?
The more he thought, the more he understood the implications. Kunlun was vast, its influence spanning across the region. If even an outer disciple felt emboldened to assert his authority and pry into Li Yan's secrets, then what might higher-ranking disciples or sect elders do if they learned of the flame he held within? In the eyes of cultivators, power—especially a unique one—was often more valuable than the life of the person wielding it.
He clenched his fists as a sense of resolve settled over him. Moving forward, he would have to approach each encounter with caution, learning to guard the flame within him as carefully as he honed his own strength. To cultivate freely and protect himself, he couldn't afford to antagonize those with status and resources, especially within powerful sects like Kunlun. But that also meant learning how to conceal the very power that set him apart.
"You'll have to be clever about this," Feiyan's voice slipped into his mind, calm and contemplative. "Conceal your strength, tread carefully, and understand that knowledge is as much a weapon as the flame you wield. Every show of power carries its own consequences."
She was right. The lesson from Shen Cai was one he couldn't ignore. A simple slip, an accidental display of Feiyan's fire, had already drawn attention and brought him dangerously close to harm. Moving forward, he would need to restrain himself, ensuring that Feiyan's flame remained hidden from those who might exploit it. Mastering his power wasn't just about cultivating strength—it was about cultivating control, learning to mask his presence so that he would remain unnoticed until he was ready to face the world openly.
As he continued through the forest, Li Yan began to consider what methods he might need to keep his aura from drawing attention. Techniques to mask his Qi signature or subtly contain the warmth of Feiyan's flame would be vital. For now, he didn't have to act immediately—but he would stay alert, knowing that any hint of Feiyan's power could spark further curiosity, if not worse.
The encounter with Shen Cai had shown him just how dangerous attention from powerful cultivators could be. They saw ordinary people as obstacles, opportunities, or tools to be used at their convenience. If Kunlun's disciples, protectors of the land, could turn on him so quickly, then he could expect little mercy from anyone else he might encounter. Survival would mean blending in, biding his time, and learning to protect his secrets until he was strong enough to defend them.
As the forest around him began to thin, the distant outline of his village finally came into view. It was a reminder of the life he had known before—quiet, simple, but free of the dangers and complexities of the cultivation world. He knew now, however, that he could never fully return to that life. He had crossed a threshold, and there was no going back.
Taking one last look at the forest behind him, Li Yan set his jaw, his mind set with quiet determination. He would continue to grow stronger, but from this point forward, his strength would remain hidden, known only to him and Feiyan. To those on the outside, he would be no more than a common villager.
With careful steps, he walked back toward the village, his mind still absorbed in thoughts of concealment and caution. As he drew closer to familiar paths, the landscape around him softened, the dense forest giving way to the rustic simplicity of village life. Yet, there was an unusual stillness, a subtle tension that seemed to hang in the air as he approached.
The first few villagers he passed on the narrow dirt road glanced his way, their expressions shifting from surprise to something else—pity. It was subtle at first, just a few lingering looks, eyes filled with both curiosity and a quiet sadness. Li Yan noticed a few whispers exchanged behind his back, eyes tracking his every step as he made his way further into the village.
He soon realized why. Last year, Old Hu, a respected elder, had gone to the city officials, reporting that he had been attacked by a "ruffian" named Old Bai. Li Yan's grandfather had earned that reputation over the years, his straightforward manner often clashing with others, especially those who held high opinions of themselves. The incident had caught the attention of even the Kunlun Sect, as Old Hu claimed to have connections that extended far beyond the village. Since then, Old Bai had left on his own journey, vanishing without a trace.
But it wasn't just Old Bai's absence that fueled the villagers' assumptions. Li Yan himself had been missing for a long while, having ventured into the forest to train and cultivate alone. To the villagers, his disappearance had only confirmed their fears that the old man and his grandson had both left the village for good, abandoning their humble home.
And so, as Li Yan passed by, the villagers watched him with a mixture of surprise and quiet sympathy, their murmurs following him along the path.
"There he is… the boy's come back."
"Poor thing, with Old Bai gone, he's all alone now…"
"After what happened with Old Hu, it's a wonder he even returned."
Li Yan kept his gaze forward, ignoring the weight of their pity, focusing instead on the worn path beneath his feet. The familiar shape of his house came into view, a small structure nestled at the edge of the village, partially hidden by overgrown shrubs and aged trees. It was humble, simple, yet seeing it again stirred something within him—a reminder of the life he'd once known.
As Li Yan neared his small, weathered home at the edge of the village, he felt a strange pull between the familiarity of the place and the quiet distance he now sensed. This was where he'd grown up, where every corner held memories of his grandfather's teachings, stories, and steady presence. Yet, after a year spent training in the forest, tapping into Feiyan's flame and glimpsing a world far more complex and dangerous than the one he'd known, he realized how much he had changed.
The life he'd left behind—the simplicity, the everyday rhythms—felt as though it belonged to someone else. The person who had left the village was a boy, curious and filled with dreams of cultivation, yet untested and naive. The person returning, however, was someone tempered by solitude and sharpened by the challenges he'd faced, carrying a power that both excited and weighed upon him.
His gaze fell on the familiar surroundings: the humble roof his grandfather had patched with his own hands, the small herbs growing by the doorstep, remnants of Old Bai's practical yet mysterious way of living. A wave of longing stirred in him, a wish to preserve this simplicity and shield himself from the complexities of the cultivation world. But he knew better. His encounter with Shen Cai had shown him that his life could no longer be so sheltered or unremarkable.
Can I truly stay here and pretend to live the life of an ordinary villager? he wondered, a twinge of conflict shadowing his thoughts. The villagers, with their cautious glances and murmurs, saw him as part of a quiet life—one tied to his grandfather's legacy, which held more than its share of stories. But he knew that his connection to Feiyan's flame and the ambitions that had awakened within him wouldn't allow him to simply return to the life he'd known.
A faint breeze passed, rustling the overgrown shrubs that bordered the house. As he stood at the entrance, Li Yan took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past year settling around him. This home, his roots in the village, the ordinary life he'd once accepted—all of it felt like a foundation he could cherish, even as he knew he was destined to step beyond it. For now, he would stay, keep to himself, and avoid drawing attention. But deep within, he knew that the quiet he sought might be only temporary.
With a final glance at the house, Li Yan set his jaw, feeling a subtle resolve build within him. Though his future path might lead him far from the simplicity he had known, he would honor the past by protecting it, even as he moved forward.