Wu Tian woke up, his breath uneven, his body drenched in sweat. The lingering pain from the previous night's ordeal had dulled to a faint ache, but the memory was etched deep within his mind. The golden stone under his pillow radiated a faint warmth, as though acknowledging the change that had taken place. Something within him had awakened, but the full extent of it remained beyond his grasp.
He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings—the damp walls of the orphanage, the worn-out bedding beneath him, and the faint light filtering through the cracks in the wooden window frame. The familiar sense of despair tried to creep in, but this time, he pushed it back. He had endured years of ridicule, but now he had something more—a secret, a mystery that could change everything.
His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of the harsh reality of his life. Food was scarce, and what little was available had to be fought for. The older orphans, the stronger ones, always took the lion's share, leaving scraps for the rest. Wu Tian had never been able to resist them—not physically, at least. But he was done being weak.
The scent of congee filled the cramped dining hall, but to Wu Tian, it smelled of survival. He stepped into the hall, scanning the crowd. The usual troublemakers occupied the best seats, laughing and chatting as if this were a grand banquet instead of a pitiful meal. His legs carried him forward with purpose. This was his first test. He would no longer cower.
A few of the orphans turned, their eyes narrowing as they caught sight of him. Gao Lin, the self-proclaimed leader of the bullies, grinned as he saw Wu Tian approaching.
"Well, well, the little cripple is up early today," Gao Lin sneered, his voice thick with mockery.
Wu Tian didn't respond. He moved to the serving station, receiving his bowl with steady hands. The watery porridge barely had a hint of rice, but it was still precious. He turned, making his way toward a seat near the corner. But as expected, Gao Lin and his lackeys blocked his way.
"You know the rules," Gao Lin said, tapping the edge of Wu Tian's bowl. "Hand it over."
Wu Tian's fingers tightened around the wooden bowl. The old Wu Tian would have given in. He would have avoided confrontation, accepted his fate, and gone hungry.
But not today.
He took a deep breath and met Gao Lin's gaze. "No."
The hall fell silent. The other orphans stopped eating, their eyes flickering between Wu Tian and Gao Lin. This was new. Wu Tian had never resisted before.
Gao Lin's smirk faltered. "What did you just say?"
"I said no," Wu Tian repeated, his voice steady. His pulse hammered in his ears, but he stood his ground.
Gao Lin's expression twisted with anger. He reached out, intending to smack the bowl from Wu Tian's hands, but before he could, Wu Tian moved. It was a small movement, a shift of his wrist, a sidestep so subtle that it seemed almost instinctive.
Gao Lin's fingers closed around empty air, and the momentum of his swing caused him to stumble forward. The hall erupted with muffled snickers.
Wu Tian didn't wait. He turned, carrying his bowl to the corner and sitting down. He ate, ignoring the burning glares from across the room.
Something had changed. He could feel it.