"Bàba, does that mean that Hua'er also has a dragon core?" Li Wei asked, his thin frame straightening with the weight of this new knowledge. His eyes, usually bright with childish curiosity, now held a spark of understanding beyond his nine years.
Her father's face grew solemn, the laughter of moments before replaced by steel-edged gravity. "Yes, all three of you have dragon cores. It's especially rare." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "You must not tell anyone this, no matter what. Do you hear?" The command in his tone made even Li Hua's assassin instincts snap to attention.
The children nodded, the gravity of the moment settled over them like a heavy cloak. Li Hua watched her brothers' faces transform from childish excitement to serious determination, their young features hardening with newfound purpose.
Her father's gaze softened as he turned to her brothers, though his expression remained grave. "And promise me that when you both become strong, you will protect your little sister." His eyes held theirs, extracting a silent vow from his sons.
They nodded again, Li Wei's thin shoulders squaring with responsibility while Li Hao's round face set with unusual determination. In that moment, they looked less like children and more like the guardians their father hoped they'd become.
Little did her father know that in the years to come, Li Hua would become her brothers' fiercest guardian angel.
"Good." Her father's features softened. "Now let's begin the training."
Her father sat her down beside her eldest brother and said sternly, "Cross your legs."
Obediently, Li Hua crossed her legs following her brothers' movements.
The stone floor was cold beneath her, sending a shiver up her spine. She watched as her brothers settled into their familiar positions, their movements speaking of countless previous training sessions. This was their normal, she realized—this quiet moment of preparation before touching the power that flowed through their bloodline.
"Close your eyes and breathe deeply," her father instructed, his voice taking on the measured cadence he used during these sacred moments.
Li Hua followed his instructions and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
"Now, focus on sensing the spiritual energy around you. When you can feel spiritual energies, slowly absorb the energy through the pores of your skin. It's like attracting dewdrops from the morning air into a leaf. With patience and practice, these spiritual energies can nourish your inner core, strengthening your veins and enhancing your abilities. Remember, the key to successful cultivation lies not in forceful conquest, but in harmonious coexistence with the natural world."
Li Hua listened intently, trying to imagine the spiritual energy as her father described it—like morning dew waiting to be gathered. She felt a subtle tingling across her skin, as if countless invisible droplets were dancing just beyond her reach. The sensation was different from anything she had experienced before, both foreign and somehow familiar, like remembering a dream upon waking. Her brothers' steady breathing beside her created a rhythm that helped her focus, their presence anchoring her as she ventured into this new realm of perception.
As the tingling intensified, Li Hua felt a gentle warmth spreading from her core outward, like sunlight breaking through morning mist. The spiritual energy responded to her patient attention, no longer dancing beyond her reach but drawing closer, as if recognizing her invitation. She remembered her father's words about harmonious coexistence and resisted the urge to grasp the energy, instead allowing it to flow naturally toward her, like streams finding their way to the sea. Each breath brought new awareness, and with it, a deeper understanding of the delicate balance between seeking power and letting it come to its own accord.
Time flew by fast, and soon her father's voice could be heard again, "You have all done well, let's stop for now and prepare for bed."
Her brothers stirred beside her, their movements slow and deliberate as if emerging from deep meditation. Li Hua could sense the lingering traces of their spiritual energy mingling with her own, creating subtle patterns in the air like ripples on a pond.
She turned to look up at her father only to see him staring intently at the courtyard gate, his jaw set with barely concealed tension. It was then that Li Hua realized her mother had yet to return from delivering the message to the previously mentioned, Grand Master Yu. The evening air hung heavy with unspoken concerns, broken only by the distant chorus of crickets and the soft whisper of wind through the garden.
"Don't worry master. Your mother is almost home," Little Firefly's voice emerged in her thoughts, gentle and reassuring.
"Thank you, Little Firefly," Li Hua responded, feeling some of the tension ease from her small shoulders.
Light and hurried footsteps sounded from beyond the gate, growing closer with each passing moment. The rhythmic pattern of feet against stone carried the unmistakable urgency of someone bearing important news. Her mother's figure emerged from the darkness, her silhouette cutting through the evening shadows like a blade through silk.
Her father rushed over to her mother, his robes billowing like storm clouds in his wake. Li Hua watched as he caught her mother's hands in his own, their fingers intertwining with practiced familiarity even as worry creased both their brows. Her mother's chest rose and fell rapidly, evidence of her swift return, but a glimmer of satisfaction flickered across her face—the look of someone who had accomplished a crucial task.
Yet, beneath that accomplishment, Li Hua noticed something else in her mother's eyes, something that reminded her of steel being tempered: a sharp, determined gleam that spoke of preparations yet to come. The exchange of silent glances between her parents carried volumes of unspoken meaning, making Li Hua's assassin instincts hum with anticipation for whatever plans had been set in motion.