My fingers were still pressed against the ancient, moss-covered boulder, tracing the faint lines of the stylized boot symbol. It was real.
This wasn't just a random rock; it was a key, a connection to that mysterious green orb.
A jolt, like static electricity, shot through my fingertips the moment I touched the symbol. It wasn't painful, but it was startling. Then, it intensified. It felt like every single atom in the air around me suddenly decided to wake up and rush towards that boulder, and then, through my hand, into my body.
It wasn't the gentle, wispy spiritual energy Papa had taught me to seek. This was a torrent. A roaring river of pure, vibrant energy, swirling and surging. It crashed into my dantian, the energy center I'd tried so desperately to fill for years, and instead of just filling it, it began to expand it. It felt like a tiny balloon suddenly being inflated by a hurricane.
My whole body tingled, a sensation so intense it was almost overwhelming. It was warm, then hot, then cool, then warm again, like a thousand tiny needles dancing across my skin, but in a good way.
My vision swam, the forest around me blurring into streaks of green and brown. I felt power, raw and untamed, coursing through my veins, a feeling I'd only ever dreamed of. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly, completely new.
The hum in the air grew louder, vibrating through my bones. It felt like the entire clearing was alive, breathing with me, pulsing with this incredible energy.
I wanted to hold onto it, to understand it, but it was too much, too fast. My small body, accustomed to nothing more strenuous than rabbit hunting and wood gathering, simply couldn't handle the sudden influx.
My knees buckled. The world tilted. The last thing I heard before darkness claimed me was a faint, almost musical thrum, like a giant drum beating deep within the earth. And then, nothing.
"..."
Meanwhile, back at the edge of the forest, Papa was starting to worry.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and deep purples, but Wu Zhen hadn't returned. He usually came back before dusk, his small sack bulging with a rabbit or two.
"He's probably just tracked a particularly stubborn one," Mama had said, trying to sound calm as she stirred the evening gruel, but her eyes kept darting towards the door.
Papa, however, knew my hunting habits. I was careful. I didn't stray far, especially as it got dark.
He grabbed his worn axe, more for comfort than protection, and set off towards my usual hunting grounds.
"Wu Zhen! Zhen'er!" he called, his voice echoing through the darkening woods. The air was growing chilly, and a thin mist was beginning to curl around the tree trunks. His heart pounded with a familiar, unwelcome fear. This world was full of dangers, even on the fringes of the village.
He followed the faint tracks he knew were mine, deeper and deeper into the familiar paths. He called out again, his voice laced with urgency.
Then, he saw it. A faint, almost imperceptible glow in the distance, deep within a thicket he hadn't known existed. It flickered for a moment, then vanished.
Pushing through the dense undergrowth, Papa burst into the small clearing. His eyes immediately fell upon my small form, sprawled out beside a massive, moss-covered boulder.
My hunting sack lay discarded nearby, the rabbit I'd caught still inside.
"Wu Zhen!" he cried, his voice hoarse with alarm. He dropped his axe and rushed to my side, his hands trembling as he knelt. My face was pale, my breathing shallow, but steady.
I looked… peaceful, almost. As if I were in a deep, dreamless sleep.
He shook my shoulder gently. "Son? Wake up! Wu Zhen!"
No response. He shook me harder, his panic rising. "Zhen'er! Please, wake up!"
My eyes remained closed, my body limp. He pressed his ear to my chest, listening for my heartbeat. It was there, strong and steady, but I was unresponsive. Fear, cold and sharp, gripped him. Had I eaten something poisonous? Had some unseen beast attacked me?
With a grunt, he carefully scooped me into his arms. I was light, almost feather-light, but his own body was weary from a day of chopping wood and cultivating.
He stumbled a few times, but his grip on me was iron-strong. He wouldn't leave me out here. Not for anything.
The journey back to the hut felt endless. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, made him jump. He imagined monstrous beasts lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. He imagined the worst.
Finally, he burst through the door of our hut, my unconscious form in his arms. Mama gasped, dropping the ladle she was holding.
"Wu Zhen! What happened?" she cried, rushing forward, her face paling.
"I… I don't know," Papa panted, gently laying me down on our straw mat. "I found him like this. He won't wake up."
Mama immediately knelt beside me, her skilled hands checking my forehead, my pulse, my limbs. Her brow was furrowed with worry, but her movements were calm and efficient. "He's breathing fine. No fever. No obvious injuries." She looked at Papa, her eyes wide. "What could have done this?"
They sat by my side through the long night, their faces etched with concern. Mama would periodically wipe my brow with a damp cloth, Papa would just sit, his hand resting gently on my arm, his gaze fixed on my face. The twins, Mei and Kai, thankfully slept soundly in their small corner, oblivious to the quiet anxiety that filled the hut.
I woke up slowly, to the familiar scent of woodsmoke and Mama's cooking. My eyelids felt heavy, but when I finally managed to pry them open, the morning light streaming through the cracks in the wall seemed brighter, sharper.
I stretched, a long, luxurious stretch, and felt… amazing. Not just rested, but invigorated.
Every muscle in my body felt loose and powerful. My mind felt clear, sharper than it had ever been. It was like someone had dusted off the inside of my head and given my senses a super boost.
I sat up, my movements surprisingly fluid. Mama, who was kneading dough by the hearth, turned at the sound. Her eyes widened, and a relieved smile spread across her face.
"Wu Zhen! You're awake!" she exclaimed, rushing over and pulling me into a tight hug. "Oh, my little sprout! We were so worried!"
Papa, who had been sharpening his axe outside, heard her cry and hurried in. He saw me sitting up, looking perfectly fine, and his face broke into a wide, relieved grin. "Thank the heavens! You gave us quite a scare, son."
"I… I feel great, Mama, Papa," I said, my voice a little raspy from disuse, but filled with a strange new energy. "Better than great. I feel… different."
As I spoke, I closed my eyes, focusing inward. And this time, it was there. A vibrant, flowing river of energy within my dantian. It pulsed, warm and steady, circulating through my meridians, the invisible pathways Papa had described. It was like a warm blanket, a powerful hum, a constant, undeniable presence.
I could feel the spiritual energy in the air around me now, too. It wasn't just a vague concept; it was a tangible sensation, like a gentle breeze against my skin.
I could almost see the faint, shimmering particles dancing in the sunlight filtering through the hut's cracks.
A wave of understanding washed over me. After years of trying, after countless hours of fruitless meditation, after being told I was too young, too basic… it had happened. The boulder, the symbol, the overwhelming surge. It had done something.
My eyes snapped open, wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. I looked at my father, who was still beaming with relief.
"Papa," I said, my voice trembling slightly with suppressed excitement. "I think… I think I did it."
He tilted his head, a confused but hopeful look on his face. "Did what, son?"
I took a deep breath, the spiritual energy within me swirling in response, making me feel light as air. "I think… I'm in the Skin Tempering layer."
Papa froze. His smile slowly faded, replaced by a look of utter astonishment. He stared at me, then at Mama, then back at me, as if trying to discern if I was playing a joke. Mama, too, had stopped kneading, her hands suspended in mid-air, her eyes wide.
"Skin Tempering?" Papa whispered, his voice barely audible. "You… you mean you sensed spiritual energy? You broke through?"
I nodded, a huge grin spreading across my face. "It's all here, Papa! I can feel it! It's like… like I can finally breathe properly for the first time!"
Papa rushed forward, his calloused hands gently touching my arm, as if to confirm I was real.
He closed his eyes, concentrating, and then his own faint spiritual energy reached out, probing. His eyes snapped open, shining with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy.
"It's true!" he exclaimed, a booming laugh escaping him. He pulled me into a crushing hug, lifting me off the ground. "You did it! You actually did it, Zhen'er! And you're only eight! Eight years old!" He set me down, his eyes glistening. "This is incredible! Most people don't even start cultivating until they're much older, and you've already broken through! You're a prodigy, my boy! A true prodigy!"
Mama, tears welling in her eyes, joined the hug, burying her face in my hair. "My little cultivator!" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I was a cultivator. Finally. The years of frustration, the endless hours of trying, the quiet despair of feeling like I was meant for nothing more than a basic life in a ruthless world – it all melted away in the warmth of their pride and love.
My body felt different. Lighter. More agile. I could feel a subtle shift in my balance, a newfound precision in my movements.
I was a Skin Tempering cultivator now.