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The village of Baihe lay nestled in a valley surrounded by the towering peaks of the Divine Spirit Mountain. It was a peaceful, secluded place, untouched by the chaos of the outside world. The villagers lived simple lives, tending to their crops and animals, their days marked by the rising and setting of the sun, untroubled by the desires for power or glory that consumed most cultivators. Yet, in the heart of this quiet village, a secret lingered—one that had been buried for years, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
Xian Tian stood at the edge of a small, clear river that wound its way through the village. His reflection shimmered on the surface, but his face was cast in shadow, his features unreadable. At eighteen years old, he was no different from any other youth in Baihe: lean, with dark hair that fell untamed to his shoulders, and golden amber eyes that had always carried an air of quiet mystery. Yet, unlike most others, Tian felt something stirring deep within him—a longing, a restlessness that had been building for months, if not years.
He was no cultivator. Or, at least, not one who had ever awakened the potential that many of the elders in the village spoke of. He had no power, no spiritual energy. His body was weak, fragile even, despite his training in the arts of survival under his adoptive grandmother, Grandmother Mei. She had been a former cultivator, her once-immense power now a faint memory, but she had taught him well enough to survive in the harsh mountain wilds.
Yet despite his lack of strength, Tian had always felt a pull—an inexplicable sense that something greater was waiting for him, something that could shatter the limits of his mortal body.
Today, that pull had become undeniable.
The air felt different, charged with an energy that hummed like a distant thunderstorm. Tian reached down, cupping his hands to gather water, his fingers brushing against the cool surface. For a moment, the water in his hands shimmered, rippling as though something had brushed against the river's very essence. He blinked, confused, and then looked up—directly at the mountain.
The Divine Spirit Mountain loomed above him, majestic and foreboding. Its peak was hidden by mist, but Tian felt a presence—something ancient, something watching. His heart pounded in his chest as a familiar sensation surged through him. It was the same feeling he'd had since childhood, but now it was stronger, more insistent. His body seemed to hum with energy that he couldn't explain. For the first time, his mind drifted to something he had long dismissed as mere fantasy—the Dao of Creation.
Could it be? Could he—someone so weak—actually have the potential to cultivate such power?
A distant voice echoed in his mind, sharp and clear, as though carried on the wind.
"Xian Tian."
His breath caught in his throat. He turned around, expecting to see Grandmother Mei, but there was no one behind him. The village was empty, as it always was at this hour. The only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind.
"Xian Tian."
The voice again—this time closer. It was soft, almost familiar, but there was something in its tone that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He couldn't explain it, but he knew that it wasn't his imagination. This was real.
"You are destined for more."
The voice faded, and with it, the sensation that had gripped Tian so strongly. But as it did, something inside him… shifted. He staggered back, his heart racing, hands trembling. The world seemed to blur around him as the river's surface rippled once more, only this time, the reflection that stared back at him was not his own. It was… different. A face—an ancient, radiant face—stared at him from the depths of the water. It was almost as though the very river had become alive.
"You are ready," the voice whispered again, this time softer, as though the world itself were speaking to him.
Suddenly, the earth beneath him trembled. Tian's eyes widened as a strange energy surged through his body. It was as though a veil had been lifted, and he could suddenly sense something far beyond his own mortal form—spiritual energy, raw and untamed, swirling all around him.
His body burned with it, and before he could react, the energy exploded outward, a brilliant flash of golden light that blazed across the sky. His body jerked with the force of the explosion, sending him sprawling onto the riverbank, his head spinning.
He lay there, gasping for breath, his body vibrating with newfound power. The mark—the sigil—that had always been a faint, almost imperceptible glow on his forehead now blazed with fiery intensity. It seemed to pulse with a life of its own, like a beacon calling him forward.
Tian sat up slowly, his heart still racing. His eyes were wide with disbelief.
Had he just… awakened?
In the distance, on the mountaintop, the silhouette of an ancient temple appeared, hidden from view until now. For the first time, Tian felt something other than fear—he felt the pull of destiny. His journey had just begun.
And he knew, with certainty, that whatever was waiting for him on the other side of that mountain would change everything.
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End of Chapter One.
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This chapter sets the stage for Xian Tian's journey by introducing his mysterious awakening and hinting at his untapped potential. It also establishes the enigmatic voice and presence that will guide him through his path of cultivation, leading to a greater understanding of the world and his own power.