The late afternoon sun bathed the Yan Clan residence in a warm glow. Yan Zi, holding an empty teacup, decided to take a walk to clear his mind. The familiar stone paths, lined with lush greenery and ancient carvings, were soothing in their own way. The air was filled with the subtle scent of blooming flowers, and for a moment, he let himself relax, soaking in the tranquility of the moment.
As he strolled, his eyes landed on a figure up ahead, standing near the koi pond. His breath hitched. It was her.
Yan Ling.
She stood there like a vision, her presence commanding the air around her. The sunlight caught her emerald-green eyes, making them sparkle like polished jade, radiating an otherworldly glow. Her silky black hair cascaded down her back, swaying gently with the breeze, each strand catching the light like threads of midnight. The delicate contours of her face, framed by her hair, were stunning, with a skin so smooth and flawless that it appeared almost unreal, glowing softly as though touched by the moon itself.
She was the daughter of Yan Shengtian, the clan leader, a position of immense power and prestige. And in the years since her cultivation had begun, her rapid rise had turned her into one of the clan's most prodigious talents. But it wasn't just her cultivation that drew attention—her beauty, grace, and aura made her seem almost untouchable, as though she belonged to a world far beyond Yan Zi's reach.
Yan Zi felt a pang in his chest, a mixture of longing and bitterness. We used to be so close, back when we were children... before everything changed.
Gathering his courage, he approached, his footsteps faltering with each step, unsure of what to say.
"Yan Ling," he called out gently, his voice tentative but warm. "You're here. I've been looking for—"
Before he could finish, she turned toward him. Her eyes met his with a coldness that made his heart skip a beat. She didn't even let him finish his sentence before cutting him off with a sharp, dismissive tone.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice cool and distant, like ice. "Shouldn't you be with your father or somewhere else? You're only bringing more ridicule upon yourself by wandering around aimlessly. Haven't you noticed?" She clicked her tongue in disdain, her eyes scanning him for a moment, as if his very presence disturbed her.
Yan Zi felt his chest tighten, and the words stung more than he expected. So this is how it is now...
"And stop bothering me," she added, her expression now hardening further. "I have my cultivation to focus on. I don't have time to waste on someone like you."
Her words felt like a slap, each one landing with the weight of a thousand unspoken judgments. He stared at her, his mind whirling, trying to process what was happening. How could she, someone he had grown up with, someone he had once laughed and cried with, speak to him this way?
Yan Ling didn't wait for his response. With a flick of her hand, she turned away and began walking, her robes swaying gracefully with every step. The soft rustling of the fabric was the only sound that accompanied her retreating figure. Her back was straight, her head held high, as though nothing and no one could touch her.
Yan Zi stood frozen in place, his body suddenly feeling heavy. The shock coursed through him like a cold, biting wind. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as his heart began to race. Yan Ling… His thoughts were scattered, trying to reconcile the person before him with the one he had known all those years ago.
The girl who used to play in the fields with him, who had shared countless memories and whispered secrets in the dead of night, was gone. How could she change so much?
Yan Zi's mouth went dry as he fought back a surge of emotion. The pain, the disbelief, the rage—they all swirled within him, but he held it back. There was no room for weakness, not in front of her, not in front of anyone. She's no longer the person I knew.
As she walked further away, Yan Zi's anger bubbled to the surface, his chest tightening with each step she took, each step that seemed to widen the gap between them. His fists trembled, not from fear but from frustration, from the feeling that everything he had once cherished was being ripped away in front of him.
"Yan Ling…" He whispered under his breath, his voice cracking as he stood there, unable to find the words to express the storm inside him.
A sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his gaze to the ground. The weight of it all hit him like a wave crashing against a cliff. His emotions were raw, exposed. His childhood friend, the one person who had always been by his side, had left him behind—abandoned him for a life of power, prestige, and the cold distance of the clan's upper echelons.
Her back was to him now, the distance between them growing ever larger with every passing moment.
A faint sound escaped from his lips, barely a whisper. How could you leave me like this, Yan Ling? His heart clenched as he felt the bonds of their shared history snapping, one by one.
The last rays of the sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the courtyard as Yan Zi stood there, still and silent. The world around him seemed to have frozen, and in that stillness, a single thought echoed in his mind.
Everything we shared… gone, just like that.
Yan Zi stood motionless in the courtyard, his eyes fixed on the spot where Yan Ling had disappeared. His fists were still clenched tightly at his sides, his nails biting into his skin, but the pain no longer mattered. His thoughts, filled with a toxic mix of confusion, sorrow, and anger, consumed him entirely. The world around him felt distant, muted, as if the very air had thickened with the weight of his emotions.
How could she just turn her back on me like that?
His mind replayed the conversation over and over, each word she spoke piercing deeper into his heart. She was no longer the bright, warm presence in his life that she once was. In fact, she wasn't even the girl who once laughed beside him as they played in the fields. That girl had been consumed by her cultivation, by the clan, and by the endless expectations that now seemed to define her.
Is this what it means to become powerful? To forget those who were there for you when you had nothing?
He took a shaky breath, fighting back the bitterness that rose within him. She's changed. But so have I.
As he slowly walked through the courtyard, a heavy silence followed him. The once-familiar landscape now seemed foreign, cold, and unforgiving. The chirping of birds in the distance, the rustling of the trees in the wind—it all felt so distant. His mind, trapped in turmoil, sought a distraction, any way to push away the suffocating thoughts.
He walked aimlessly, his feet carrying him down the stone path, but it felt as if the path itself had changed. The stones under his feet seemed sharper, colder, each step more painful than the last. The residence of the Yan Clan, once a place of warmth and belonging, now felt like a prison. He was suffocating in his own skin, trapped by the expectations of others, by the ridicule that always hung over him like a dark cloud. But more than that, he was trapped by his own insecurities, by the crushing weight of being nothing, of being no one.
He hadn't even realized where his feet had taken him until he reached the training grounds.
The place was eerily quiet, a sharp contrast to the bustling energy it usually held. His eyes lingered on the empty space, the patches of grass worn down by countless hours of practice. This was where his friends, his peers, honed their skills, where they cultivated their powers and grew stronger, their auras shining like beacons of hope and ambition.
But not for him. Not anymore.
Yan Zi looked around, his gaze drifting to the far side of the grounds where the clan's most talented cultivators trained. Their figures moved fluidly, their cultivation techniques flowing effortlessly as they channeled their qi with practiced ease. He could see the familiar faces, their postures perfect, their eyes glowing with the excitement of progress. Every movement they made only served to remind him of how far behind he was.
He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he tried to push down the resentment that surged within him. I'm nothing but a spectator in this world. No matter how hard I try, I'll never be like them. I'll never be like her.
The thought of Yan Ling's cold words came crashing back into his mind, a reminder of the gap between them. She had once been a part of his world, a part of his family, and now… now she was so far beyond his reach. She had crossed a line he could never follow.
He clenched his teeth and turned away, the feeling of failure weighing heavily on him. His gaze fell to his own hands, the hands that had never been able to grasp the delicate flow of qi, that had never been able to form the energy needed to cultivate. These hands will never be able to do what they do.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him.
"Yan Zi," a voice called out, soft but commanding.
He froze. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the voice. It was Yan Hong, his father, the elder of the Yan Clan.
Yan Zi slowly turned around, meeting the gaze of the man who had always supported him, but never truly understood the weight of the world on his shoulders. Yan Hong's eyes, filled with years of wisdom and responsibility, studied him with concern, but there was a hint of something else—something unspoken—lingering in the air.
"Father…" Yan Zi said, his voice a little rougher than he intended.
Yan Hong took a step forward, his expression softening. He had never been harsh with Yan Zi, but the burden of the clan's expectations had always hung heavy between them, an invisible divide that neither of them could bridge.
"Are you alright?" Yan Hong asked, his voice low, his brow furrowed with concern. "I saw you earlier. You seemed… troubled."
Yan Zi felt a surge of emotions rise in his chest. His father's concern was genuine, but it wasn't enough. It could never be enough. There was a part of him that wanted to scream, to tell his father how alone he felt, how he had been cast aside by everyone, even the one person he had once thought would never abandon him.
But instead, he only nodded. "I'm fine, Father."
Yan Hong studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if sensing the unspoken turmoil brewing beneath the surface. He sighed and placed a hand on Yan Zi's shoulder.
"Listen to me, Yan Zi," he said, his tone steady. "You are not like the others, but that does not make you less. Your path is just different. Don't let others define your worth. You have more to offer than you realize."
Yan Zi didn't respond immediately. He wanted to believe those words, he really did. But they felt hollow. They felt like a fragile hope, one that couldn't protect him from the truth that had become so clear. He wasn't like the others. And that meant he was nothing in the eyes of the clan. Nothing to Yan Ling, nothing to the world he was supposed to be a part of.
But even so, he couldn't bring himself to disappoint his father. Not now. Not yet.
"I know, Father," he said quietly, forcing a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'll… I'll try."
Yan Hong nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. But Yan Zi could feel the weight of his words pressing down on him, suffocating him even more.
His path was different, but was it truly his own? Or was he merely walking a road paved by others, a road that led nowhere?
As his father walked away, Yan Zi's gaze lingered on his retreating figure. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to turn away. His father didn't understand. No one did.
And in the distance, the voice of Yan Ling echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of everything he had lost.