Morning arrived quietly over the Yuan Clan.
The excitement that had filled the estate the previous day had begun to settle, replaced by eager anticipation.
Children who had successfully awakened their cultivation compatibility hurried across the courtyards with unusual enthusiasm.
Some proudly compared their results, while others spoke excitedly about the cultivation lessons that would begin today.
For them, this was the true beginning of their journey.
Yuan Tian watched from beneath the willow tree.
Nothing about the previous day’s examination had answered the questions filling his mind.
Instead…
It had given him even more.
He could still remember the strange golden threads within the Heartstone.
They had appeared only for an instant before vanishing without explanation.
No one else reacted.
No one else even seemed to notice.
Had he imagined them?
He wasn’t convinced.
“Young Master.”
Sister Lan approached with her usual gentle smile.
“I had a feeling I’d find you here.”
Yuan Tian looked up.
“Good morning.”
She handed him a small cloth pouch.
“Lady Yue made breakfast for you.”
He accepted it with both hands.
“…Thank you.”
Sister Lan sat beside him beneath the willow tree.
She followed his gaze toward the pond.
“You’ve been thinking about yesterday.”
It wasn’t a question.
Yuan Tian nodded.
“Everyone looked disappointed.”
She remained silent for a moment before answering.
“Some were.”
“And you?”
She smiled.
“I was worried.”
“Worried?”
“I thought you’d be sad.”
Yuan Tian looked back toward the water.
“I don’t think I understand enough to be sad.”
“I don’t know what happened.”
“I only know…”
He paused.
“…that something happened.”
Sister Lan didn’t fully understand his words.
But she understood the child sitting beside her.
She reached over and gently brushed a leaf from his shoulder.
“Whatever happens…”
“You still have your family.”
Yuan Tian smiled faintly.
“I know.”
…
Not long afterward, the sound of a bronze bell echoed through the estate.
Unlike the Assembly Bell, this one was lighter.
It rang three times.
Children immediately began running toward the eastern training grounds.
“The introductory cultivation lesson.”
Sister Lan stood.
“You should go.”
Yuan Tian rose as well.
“I’m supposed to attend?”
She nodded.
“Every child does.”
“Regardless of yesterday’s result.”
Together, they walked toward the training grounds.
For the first time since the examination, Yuan Tian noticed how different everyone seemed.
The children who had awakened strong compatibility walked with renewed confidence.
Others kept their heads lowered.
A few remained exactly the same.
He wondered which group would change the most over time.
…
The eastern training ground had been transformed overnight.
Rows of woven meditation cushions covered the stone courtyard.
Clan instructors stood at the front beneath the shade of ancient cedar trees.
The eldest among them stepped forward as the children settled into their places.
His voice carried effortlessly across the courtyard.
“I am Instructor Gu.”
“For the coming months, I will teach you the foundations of cultivation.”
He looked across the rows of children.
“Many of you believe yesterday determined your future.”
“It did not.”
Several children looked surprised.
Instructor Gu continued.
“The Heartstone measures compatibility with the Yuan Clan’s cultivation inheritance.”
“It does not measure your worth.”
“It does not measure your character.”
“And it certainly does not decide how much effort you are willing to give.”
Yuan Tian quietly listened.
Those words differed from the conversations he had overheard throughout the estate.
Most people spoke as though talent alone determined everything.
Instructor Gu did not.
The old instructor picked up a smooth stone from the ground.
“If I throw this stone into the pond…”
“What happens?”
Hands immediately shot into the air.
“It sinks!”
“It makes ripples!”
“The fish swim away!”
Instructor Gu smiled.
“All correct.”
He gently tossed the stone.
A soft splash echoed across the nearby pond.
Ripples spread outward.
“What moved first?”
The children exchanged puzzled glances.
“The water?”
“No.”
Instructor Gu shook his head.
“The stone.”
“The water merely responded.”
He slowly turned toward the class.
“Cultivation follows the same principle.”
“Before Heaven responds…”
“You must first move yourself.”
The children fell silent.
Even Yuan Tian found himself thinking about those words.
Not because they sounded profound.
Because…
They made sense.
Instructor Gu folded his hands behind his back.
“Now.”
“Close your eyes.”
“Breathe naturally.”
“Do not chase Spiritual Qi.”
“Do not force it.”
“If your heart is calm…”
“The world will reveal itself.”
One by one, the children obeyed.
Yuan Tian did the same.
He closed his eyes.
His breathing gradually slowed.
The sounds of the training ground faded.
Wind.
Leaves.
Birds.
Footsteps.
Everything blended together.
For several quiet moments…
Nothing happened.
Then…
He felt something.
Not Spiritual Qi.
Not warmth.
Not light.
It was…
As though countless invisible streams flowed all around him, endlessly weaving through the world.
He couldn’t see them.
Not yet.
But somehow…
He knew they were there.
His brow furrowed slightly.
Something about them felt strangely familiar.
“Do not force it.”
Instructor Gu’s voice remained calm.
“If your thoughts wander, let them return naturally.”
“The world has existed long before you.”
“It is in no hurry.”
The training ground fell silent once more.
Children sat cross-legged beneath the cedar trees, each attempting to sense the Spiritual Qi around them.
Minutes passed.
A boy near the front suddenly opened his eyes.
“Instructor!”
“I think I felt something!”
Instructor Gu smiled.
“What did you feel?”
“It was warm.”
“Like sunlight.”
The instructor nodded.
“Do not chase it.”
“If it is truly Spiritual Qi, it will return.”
The boy quickly calmed himself and closed his eyes again.
Not long afterward, another child raised a hand.
“I heard water.”
“There wasn’t any water.”
Several children looked around in confusion.
Instructor Gu shook his head.
“Spiritual perception differs from person to person.”
“There is no single correct answer.”
Yuan Tian remained still.
He listened.
Not only to the instructor…
But to everything around him.
The breeze carried the scent of damp earth.
Leaves rustled overhead.
Somewhere in the distance, a blacksmith’s hammer rang through the estate.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Yet…
The invisible streams were still there.
Flowing.
Crossing.
Separating.
They seemed to move through every tree, every stone, and every person around him.
He tried to focus on one of them.
The moment he did…
It vanished.
His eyes slowly opened.
The training ground remained exactly as before.
Children continued meditating.
Instructor Gu quietly walked between the rows, occasionally correcting someone’s posture.
Nothing had changed.
Except…
The feeling refused to leave.
…
By midday, the lesson ended.
Several children excitedly compared what they had sensed.
“I saw red light!”
“I heard thunder!”
“I felt heat in my hands!”
Yuan Hao hurried toward Yuan Tian.
“What about you?”
Yuan Tian thought for a moment.
“I’m not sure.”
“You didn’t feel anything?”
“I felt…”
He searched for the right words.
“…movement.”
Yuan Hao scratched his head.
“Movement?”
“It didn’t feel like fire.”
“Or water.”
“It was just…”
“…moving.”
Yuan Hao looked completely confused.
“I have no idea what that means.”
“I don’t either.”
The two boys laughed.
Not every answer needed to be understood immediately.
…
Instructor Gu watched the younger generation as they left.
His gaze lingered on Yuan Tian.
The boy had remained calmer than anyone else throughout the lesson.
Not once had he forced his breathing.
Not once had he fidgeted.
Yet…
He had also shown no visible progress.
“Interesting.”
The old instructor quietly folded his hands behind his back.
Perhaps…
Some paths simply required more time.
…
That evening, Yuan Tian returned to the willow tree.
The examination.
The lesson.
The strange streams.
Everything replayed in his mind.
He sat down without crossing his legs this time.
He simply watched the pond.
The water remained perfectly still.
A single leaf drifted onto the surface.
Ripples spread outward.
His eyes followed them until they disappeared.
“…Everything leaves a trace.”
The words escaped almost unconsciously.
At that exact moment…
The air before him trembled.
It lasted only an instant.
One thin golden thread appeared between the willow branches.
Unlike the countless threads within the Heartstone…
This one was alone.
It stretched into the distance before fading into nothingness.
Yuan Tian instinctively reached toward it.
His fingertips passed through empty air.
The thread dissolved like morning mist.
Gone.
He slowly lowered his hand.
This time…
He was certain.
He had not imagined it.
The question was no longer whether the golden threads existed.
The real question was…
Why could only he see them?
Far above the Human Realm, beyond stars no mortal had ever seen, the ancient presence stirred once again.
Not awake.
Not asleep.
Watching.
Waiting.
Patient as the passage of time itself.