The days passed. Then the months. Then the years.
Fang Ling sat cross-legged in his chamber, his breathing steady, his body drenched in sweat. His once radiant eyes, which once carried boundless ambition, had dulled with time. He channelled Qi again and again, pushing it through his meridians, but the energy refused to flow properly.
Why?
No matter how hard he tried, the Wind Breathing Technique rejected him. A technique meant to be his stepping stone had become an immovable boulder, crushing him beneath its weight.
At first, the clan elders were patient. They assured him that he was simply experiencing a minor setback, that it was normal for geniuses to face tribulations. But when days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, their patience thinned.
By the time nine years had passed, their admiration had turned to disappointment.
Fang Ling, the once-proclaimed genius, had become a stain on the family's name.
At the age of fourteen, Fang Ling was still stuck in the Qi Gathering Realm, while children younger than him had already surpassed him. His younger brother, Fang Bai, only eight years old, had broken through the Foundation Establishment Realm, earning the elders' praise and admiration.
One evening, as Fang Ling passed by the training grounds, he heard his younger brother's voice, filled with disdain.
"Hmph! What is that trash doing here?" Fang Bai scoffed, his arms crossed. He was surrounded by servants and disciples, all eager to please the rising star of the Fang family. "Father should just disown him already. He's an embarrassment!"
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Fang Ling clenched his fists but said nothing. He had long since lost the right to argue.
"Young master Bai, you shouldn't say such things!" One of the older servants laughed. "He was once called a genius, you know!"
"Genius?" Fang Bai smirked. "He's nothing but a crippled dog now. A stray that the Fang family keeps out of pity!"
Laughter erupted around him.
Fang Ling lowered his gaze. The humiliation, the shame—it was suffocating.
At home, things were no better.
His father, Fang Hao, who once beamed with pride, now barely looked at him. His mother, Lady Xu, who used to dote on him, now barely acknowledged his presence.
Dinner was the worst.
He would sit in silence as his parents showered Fang Bai with praise. They no longer spoke his name. It was as if he had become a ghost in his own family.
One night, he gathered his courage and spoke.
"Father, Mother… may I ask something?"
Fang Hao barely spared him a glance. "What is it?"
His voice was cold, distant.
Fang Ling hesitated, then spoke, his voice hoarse. "Do you still… believe in me?"
There was a long pause.
Then, Fang Hao sighed, as if exhausted by the very question. "Fang Ling, I don't have time for this."
His mother, who once held him close and whispered words of encouragement, simply looked away.
At that moment, Fang Ling understood.
I have already been abandoned.
The servants no longer respected him.
Once, they bowed when he passed, addressing him as Young Master Fang Ling with reverence. Now, they sneered behind his back, some openly mocking him.
One day, as he walked through the halls, he overheard two servants whispering.
"Have you heard? The elders say that Young Master Fang Ling must be cursed."
"Yes, yes! They say his talent was just a fluke, and now he's paying the price for it. How pitiful!"
Fang Ling clenched his fists.
Pitiful?
No. The pitiful ones were those who only respected strength. Those who changed their loyalty like the wind shifts direction.
Late at night, Fang Ling sat alone in the courtyard, staring at the moon.
The wind was cold, but the emptiness inside him was colder.
"This feels familiar."
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.
"I had a family in my previous life too, didn't I? And when they were gone, I was left with nothing. And now… it has happened again."
Tears burned his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
"No one truly loves you unless you are useful to them. No one respects you unless you have power."
"Give respect, take respect?" He scoffed. Utter bullshit.
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Master… are you okay?"
Fang Ling turned his gaze.
It was her.
The only person who still stood by him. The nameless girl he had saved years ago.
She knelt beside him, her eyes filled with concern—not the fake kind the elders used to show, but genuine concern.
For a moment, Fang Ling wanted to push her away.
"Why? Why do you still care? Even my own parents have abandoned me."
But he said nothing.
Because deep down, a small part of him needed someone to care.
Even if it was just one person.