Turns out it wasn't just me, Mu Yi, and Fan Tu.
There were eighteen others—children from other villages, from hidden mountains and valleys, from quiet plains and coastal lands rarely touched by the steps of civilization. We were all brought to Qinglong Academy on different days, but for the same purpose. We became part of twenty children considered… "potential."
They called us the generation of silence.
There was no grand announcement when we arrived. No festive welcome, no promise of glory. Only training, silence, and time flowing like a river that never looks back.
Three years have passed.
And now, I begin to see it.
It wasn't only me who changed.
Li Qian from Stone Mountain Village, who used to always look down when speaking, now his eyes are sharp like a sword kept in a velvet sheath.
Han Ke from South Village, who once could only mimic the trainer's moves slowly, now his body moves like a shadow behind moonlight—real, but hard to grasp.
They say nothing. No one boasts of their changes. Even Mu Yi, who always used to tell stories, now sits more often in silence, staring at the sky. As if trying to understand the direction of clouds, of time, and of himself.
We all changed.
Slowly, in silence.
As if time itself was teaching us, not with words, but with experience carved into our breath and bodies.
I can feel it.
When I walk among them, there is a resonance—faint but strong. Like a bell ringing softly in the depths of the heart. Each of us carries something that cannot be seen, but can be felt.
An understanding.
Something that came not from books, not from teachers, but from the nature within. From a world we discovered when we became silent, when we stopped asking, when we began to accept and observe.
Of the twenty, not all developed in the same way.
Some drowned in their own fear. Some tried to resist the change and became hard like stone, only to crack from within. But some… some began to shine, though in different forms.
And I begin to understand.
Qinglong Academy is not a place for training weapons. But a place to sharpen awareness.
Not to create an army of killers.
But to create humans who understand themselves.
And I… I am only part of that long flow. I am just a breath that passes through the night, a step that leaves no trace, a voice that can only be heard by those silent enough to listen.
Time keeps moving.
And we all keep walking, without rushing.
Three years have passed since I left Ziran Village.
Three years without seeing my simple home.Three years without hearing my father's voice—Li Haoming.
I still remember that night.Under the dim moonlight hanging above the rice fields, I asked him:
"Father, may I go out? I want to explore the world."
He was silent for a moment.He looked at the sky, then at me.His face was calm,but his eyes… held many things he could not say.
"You're still young," he said."But you have eyes that want to see more.I cannot stop you forever.But before you go—allow me to teach you… even if only the basics."
The days that followed were spent in quiet training.
Simple movements.Breathing—not to strengthen muscles,but to calm the heart.Steps—not for attacking,but to understand direction.And my eyes were opened—not to the outside world…but to myself.
Now, three years have passed.
And I'm beginning to understandwhy Father taught me so slowly.
He wasn't shaping a fighter—He was shaping an explorer of understanding.He didn't force me to become strong—He made me… sensitive.
Purpose.
That word has been echoing within me lately.
When I see the faces of my friends.When I train my steps.When I close my eyes and listento the earth, the water, the wind.
What is the purpose of all this?
I used to believe my purpose was to become strong.To fight.To protect.
But now… I see it differently.
It's not strength I seek,but clarity.Not victory,but understanding.
And the more I walk,the more the line of purpose begins to blur.
Yet in that blurriness…I find direction.
Like mist covering a mountain path—not to mislead,but to ask me to walk more carefully.
If Father sees me now…Would he know I remember everything he taught?
If I return to the village,would he still be waiting under that old tree—the one where he used to sit in the afternoons?
Purpose is not the finish line.Purpose is the way of walking.
And I am still walking.Slowly.But steadily.
I will explore this world.
I want to see it not through others' stories, but through my own footsteps. I want to feel it, not from the shadows of books, but from the air, from the earth, from the sky I witness with open eyes.
One unforgettable day was when I found an old library on the eastern side of the academy—hidden, nearly neglected, silent, as if waiting for someone who sought more than just physical training.
There I found one book that was different from the rest. Its cover was worn, unnamed. But when I opened it, the first page echoed in my chest:
"If you do not find what you seek in books… go out. This world is vast. This world is boundless."
As if the book spoke directly to me.
What my teacher once said was true—the thoughts of those who came before were not merely written to be read. They were written so we would walk.
Because some things cannot be taught through words.
Some can only be understood through experience.
There is understanding that is born only when our feet touch unfamiliar ground, when our eyes gaze at skies we've never seen, when our soul merges with the journey.
I do not want to just sit and think about the world.
I want to live it.
Books do open the way. But not to stay there. They are doors.
And the world is a limitless room waiting to be entered.
When I closed that book, I knew… my time at the academy was nearly over.
Not because I was strong enough. But because I knew—true strength would emerge beyond these walls. On the journey.
I want to know what lies beyond the mountains I see from the highest tower of the academy.
I want to see and feel rain in places that have no names in my mind yet.
I want to meet people who don't know who I am, and learn from them… as I learned from Father, from my teacher, from Li Mu Yi and Fan Tu.
Not to become someone.
But so I can become myself.
And if one day I return to Ziran Village, I want to return as someone who has seen the world, understood himself, and still smiles… just like I did when I first left.
My steps are not yet perfect. But I know where I'm heading.
Toward a world vast and boundless.