Chapter 2: Hidden Potential
Seven years had passed since Old Man Chen found the abandoned baby in the forest. He had named the boy Lin Tian, meaning "forest sky," after the place and time he had found him. The old janitor had never regretted his decision to take in the child, even though it had meant years of extra work and tight finances.
"Tian! Where are you, boy?" Chen's weathered voice echoed across the outer courtyard of the Verdant Pine Sect. The morning sun cast long shadows through the ancient pines that gave the sect its name.
A small, thin boy appeared from behind a storage shed, a broom clutched in his hands. "Here, Grandpa Chen!" he called, his bright eyes contrasting with his worn clothes.
"There you are. Elder Wu wants his chamber cleaned before noon. Says there's important guests coming." The old man ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "And don't forget to pick up fresh incense for the training hall."
Lin Tian nodded dutifully. At seven years old, he already knew the layout of the entire sect compound better than some disciples who had been there for decades. As the adopted son of the sect janitor, he had been helping with chores since he could walk.
"I'll finish the courtyard first," he promised, returning to his sweeping with focused determination.
Old Man Chen watched the boy for a moment, his eyes softening with pride and sadness. Lin Tian was a good child—quick-witted, hardworking, and remarkably self-sufficient for his age. But Chen knew better than anyone the harsh reality of their situation.
Four years ago, when Lin Tian had turned three, Chen had asked the sect's cultivation master to test the boy's aptitude. It was standard practice, and though Chen had little hope for a spectacular result, he'd thought perhaps the boy might qualify for outer disciple status. Even that would be better than the life of a servant.
The test had been brief and decisive. "Broken meridians," the master had declared with a dismissive wave. "The boy has no cultivation potential. Keep him as your helper if you wish, but don't waste any more of my time."
The memory still stung. Chen had never told Lin Tian the full results of that test—only that he wasn't ready yet. The boy still believed that someday he might join the ranks of disciples.
As Chen shuffled away to his own duties, a group of young outer sect disciples strode through the courtyard. They wore the standard green robes that marked their status, and the youngest couldn't have been more than ten years old.
"Hey, trash-sweeper!" called one, a stocky boy named Wei. "You missed a spot!"
With a casual flick of his hand, Wei used the most basic wind technique to scatter the pile of leaves Lin Tian had just gathered.
The other disciples laughed as Lin Tian silently began gathering the leaves again, his small face carefully blank.
"What's wrong, can't talk?" mocked another disciple. "Maybe he's not just broken, but stupid too!"
"Leave him alone," said a girl at the back of the group. "He's just doing his job."
"Soft-hearted Mei," Wei sneered. "He should be grateful we give him something to do. Without us making messes, what purpose would a broken thing like him have?"
Lin Tian kept his eyes down, but his grip on the broom tightened until his knuckles turned white. This was a familiar ritual. Almost daily, disciples would find some reason to torment him—scattering his carefully sorted herbs, "accidentally" knocking over the water buckets he had just filled, or simply shoving him into the mud as they passed.
The sect rules technically forbade disciples from bullying servants, but no one enforced such rules for a boy with broken meridians. Even the kindest elders saw him as little more than a charity case—the sect's good deed, allowing a useless child to earn his keep.
After the disciples left, Lin Tian finished cleaning the courtyard and moved on to Elder Wu's chambers. As he scrubbed the already-immaculate floors, he allowed himself a moment of fantasy. In his imagination, he wasn't a broken-bodied servant but a powerful cultivator, commanding respect with a glance.
*Someday*, he promised himself. *Somehow*.
By late afternoon, Lin Tian had completed his chores. His small body ached from the physical labor, but he had one more task planned. With Grandpa Chen occupied assisting the alchemy master, Lin Tian slipped away from the compound.
The forest surrounding the Verdant Pine Sect was known for its abundance of medicinal herbs. While the sect maintained several herb gardens, the truly valuable plants grew wild in the densest parts of the forest. Disciples rarely bothered with gathering them, preferring to focus on their cultivation rather than menial tasks.
This had become Lin Tian's opportunity. For the past year, he had been supplementing Grandpa Chen's meager income by collecting and selling herbs to traveling merchants who visited the nearby village. He had a natural talent for finding even the rarest plants, guided by what he called his "lucky feeling."
Today, as Lin Tian ventured deeper into the forest than usual, he felt an unusually strong pull toward the north, where the forest grew darker and the trees more ancient. Normally, he avoided this area—Grandpa Chen had warned him about the beasts that lurked in the deep woods—but the persistent tugging sensation was impossible to ignore.
"Just a quick look," he muttered to himself, pushing through a dense thicket of thorny bushes.
The scratches on his arms were forgotten the moment he emerged into a small clearing. There, growing in a perfect circle around an ancient, half-toppled tree, were seven stalks of luminescent blue flowers. Lin Tian's breath caught in his throat. Even with his limited knowledge, he recognized Azure Moon Orchids—one of the rarest medicinal herbs in the region, used in high-level cultivation pills.
A single stalk could fetch at least 10 silver coin in the market—more money than he and Grandpa Chen saw in three months.
With trembling hands, Lin Tian carefully harvested the plants using the small knife Grandpa Chen had given him for his last birthday. He wrapped each stalk individually in damp cloth before placing them in his collection basket.
The sun was beginning to set by the time he finished, casting long shadows through the trees. Lin Tian knew he should head back immediately—the forest was dangerous at night—but as he turned to leave, he noticed something glinting at the base of the fallen tree.
Curiosity overcoming caution, he approached and brushed away years of accumulated soil and debris. His efforts revealed a strange herb, its roots faintly glowing with golden veins that pulsed like a heartbeat. The plant exuded an aura unlike anything Lin Tian had ever felt before—ancient, vast, yet faint, as if only a remnant of its former glory remained.
As his fingers brushed its stem, a spark of golden energy surged into him, rushing through his body with unbearable heat. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest as a voice echoed faintly in his mind.
*Finally.*
Before he could comprehend what had happened, voices broke the forest's silence.
"I'm telling you, I saw something glowing over here."
"Probably just some forest spirits. Not worth our time."
"If it's glowing, it's valuable. Don't be lazy."
Lin Tian quickly crouched behind the fallen tree, heart hammering in his chest. Through a gap in the roots, he could see three men entering the clearing—not sect disciples, but rough-looking men with crude weapons and cultivation auras that marked them as rogue cultivators, likely bandits who preyed on travelers and unprotected resource points.
The largest of the three spotted the freshly disturbed earth where Lin Tian had been digging. "Someone's been here recently." His eyes narrowed as he scanned the clearing. "Very recently."
Lin Tian tried to make himself smaller, barely daring to breathe. If they were merely outer disciples, he might have revealed himself, accepting a beating in exchange for safe passage. But these men had the cold eyes of killers.
"Check behind that tree," ordered the leader, pointing directly at Lin Tian's hiding place.
The boy's heart pounded. He had to run, but where? The forest stretched in all directions, and in the gathering darkness, he would likely get lost or run into even more dangerous predators.
Just as the first bandit approached the tree, something strange happened. In Lin Tian's mind, a faint golden light began to trace a path through the underbrush to his right—a narrow gap between two thorny bushes that he hadn't noticed before. Without understanding why, he knew with absolute certainty that this path would lead to safety.
The moment the bandit's attention shifted slightly, Lin Tian bolted, following the golden path only he could see. Behind him, shouts of surprise erupted.
"There! A kid!"
"Get him! He must have found something valuable!"
Lin Tian ran faster than he ever had before, ducking under low branches and leaping over roots that the golden path highlighted moments before he reached them. It was as if the forest itself was helping him, showing him the safest and fastest route.
But the bandits were cultivators, even if low-level ones. The leader extended his hand, and a crude wind technique whipped past Lin Tian's ear, slicing through tree bark just inches from his head.
"Stop running, boy, and we'll make it quick!" the bandit called, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Keep running, and we'll take our time with you!"
Terror gave Lin Tian speed, but he was still just a seven-year-old boy with supposedly broken meridians. The bandits were gaining ground.
As he rounded a massive boulder, following the golden path, Lin Tian's foot caught on an exposed root. He tumbled forward, his basket flying from his grip, precious herbs scattering across the forest floor. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, and for a crucial moment, he couldn't move.
The bandits were on him in seconds. The leader grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground with one hand.
"What did you find, boy?" he growled, his breath reeking of cheap wine. "What was glowing in that clearing?"
Lin Tian struggled in the man's grip. "N-nothing! Just some herbs for my grandfather!"
One of the other bandits was already rifling through the scattered contents of his basket. "Azure Moon Orchids!" he exclaimed. "The brat found a whole batch of them!"
The leader's eyes gleamed with greed. "Those sell for ten silver each to the right buyer." He shook Lin Tian roughly. "Where exactly did you find them? Are there more?"
"That's all there were," Lin Tian gasped, still struggling. "Please, I need them for my grandfather's medicine!"
The leader laughed coldly. "Your grandfather will have to die, then. Just like you."
He drew a crude but sharp dagger from his belt. "Can't leave witnesses who know our hunting grounds, can we? Nothing personal, boy."
As the dagger rose, Lin Tian felt a surge of desperate fear—and then something changed. The faint golden light that had been guiding his path suddenly intensified in his mind's eye. Time seemed to slow as the light traced patterns across the bandit's body, highlighting specific points—a old injury on his right shoulder, a weakness in his stance, the tendons of his wrist.
Without conscious thought, Lin Tian's body moved. His small hand struck out, hitting the exact point on the bandit's wrist that the golden light had illuminated. The man's hand spasmed in surprise, his grip loosening just enough for Lin Tian to slip free.
As he fell, the golden path appeared again, showing him exactly where to land and which way to roll to avoid the second bandit's grasp. Lin Tian followed the guidance instinctively, his body moving with a grace and precision that should have been impossible for a child with no cultivation training.
"What the—" The leader's surprised curse was cut short as Lin Tian, following the golden guidance, grabbed a fallen branch and swung it directly into the man's previously injured shoulder.
The bandit howled in pain, staggering backward. His companions hesitated, shocked by the unexpected resistance from what should have been easy prey.
That moment of hesitation was all Lin Tian needed. The golden path brightened, showing him a narrow gap between the trees that the bulkier bandits would struggle to follow. Without looking back, he darted through the opening, following the increasingly confident guidance of the mysterious light in his mind.
Behind him, he could hear the bandits crashing through the underbrush, their curses growing more distant as the golden path led him through increasingly difficult terrain—under fallen logs too low for adults to crawl under, through thorny thickets with child-sized gaps, across stepping stones in a small stream where larger pursuers would have to wade.
By the time the forest began to thin, revealing the familiar path back to the sect, Lin Tian could no longer hear his pursuers. The golden light faded from his mind, leaving him alone with his racing heart and trembling limbs.
He had survived, but his precious herbs were lost, and he had no idea what had just happened. How had he known exactly where to strike? How had he moved with such precision? And what was the golden light that had guided him?
As he stumbled back toward the sect compound, exhausted and confused, Lin Tian's hand brushed against his chest—where the strange herb's golden energy still pulsed faintly, as if alive.
Something had awakened within him today—something that would change his life forever. He didn't understand it yet, but deep inside, in the place where the Primordial Map had fused with his very being, ancient knowledge stirred.
Lin Tian had taken his first step on a path that would lead him far beyond the humble confines of the Verdant Pine Sect—a path that would eventually shake the very foundations of the cultivation world.
But for now, he was simply a tired, frightened boy who needed to get home before Grandpa Chen started to worry.
As he walked, the faint golden warmth in his chest seemed to whisper again:
*Finally.*