Xu Tianyin walked.
One step. Then another.
The earth beneath his feet was uneven, covered in dead leaves and jagged rocks. Every step sent a sharp ache through his legs, but he kept going. He didn't know where he was heading—only that stopping meant giving in. And he couldn't do that.
The night stretched endlessly above him, a vast sky devoid of warmth. He had never felt the cold like this before. The Xu family estate had always been warmed by glowing lanterns, heated baths, thick silk robes. Here, the cold was a living thing, creeping under his skin, settling deep in his bones. His torn sleeves did nothing to stop the wind from biting at his arms.
His stomach clenched painfully. Hunger.
He had never known true hunger before today. The Xu family dined on the finest meals, prepared by the most skilled chefs. Even the simplest dish had been a delicacy compared to this emptiness gnawing at him now. But there was no food here. No servants to bring him anything. Just him, the darkness, and the hollow ache in his body.
He forced himself to keep moving, even as his limbs grew heavier.
The golden lanterns of the ancestral hall. His father's cold stare. His mother's silence. Xu Haoran's contempt. Xu Ruoyue's indifference.
"You are no son of mine."
The words rang in his head, louder than the wind.
He had known, deep down, that he was different. Even as a child, he had sensed it. The way his father looked at him with something more than disappointment—something closer to disgust. The way the elders whispered behind closed doors.
He had trained harder than anyone, hoping to prove himself. But his body had never obeyed. Qi did not flow through him the way it should. When he tried to cultivate, it felt… wrong. His meridians twisted, rejecting the energy, warping it into something unnatural.
His father, Xu Jianhong, had declared him a disgrace. A divine mistake.
"The heavens have punished you for a reason. You should not exist."
The Xu family had ruled over generations of cultivators. Each descendant was born with unparalleled talent, gifted by fate itself. But Xu Tianyin… he was different. He had too much talent, too much potential, yet he could not use it the way others did. The heavens had marked him, sealing away the power that should have been his.
His older brother, Xu Haoran, had been the first to suggest execution.
"A disgrace to our bloodline has no right to live."
His younger sister, Xu Ruoyue, had merely averted her eyes, saying nothing.
His mother, Xu Meiyu, had not spoken a single word in his defense.
But his father had made the final decision.
"Leave, and never return."
The elders had sealed his dantian before casting him out, ensuring that he could never cultivate, never recover. They had left him to die.
His legs buckled. He fell to his knees.
The forest around him was silent. No voices. No warmth. No home.
Was this where he would die?
He pressed his hands against the cold earth, fingers trembling. His body was exhausted, but his mind burned with a single thought.
Why?
Why had he been born like this? Why had the heavens given him such talent only to deny him the ability to use it? Why had his family never considered another path for him?
His breath was ragged, uneven. The pain in his chest was unbearable—not from the hunger, not from the cold, but from the weight of his own existence.
A single tear slipped down his face, lost in the wind.
Yet, beneath the despair, something flickered.
Not acceptance. Not surrender.
Something deeper.
A quiet, unrelenting defiance.
He would not die here.
Xu Tianyin forced himself to his feet. His body screamed in protest, but he ignored it. His family had cast him aside, the heavens had cursed him, but that did not mean his existence was meaningless.
He clenched his fists. If the heavens did not want him, then he would carve his own path.
No matter what it took.
With one final glance at the dark sky above, he stepped forward into the unknown.