The day dawned slowly, like a lazy cat stretching across the horizon. Lin Feng had risen with the first pale light, as was his habit, but today the world felt… different. Not loud, not violent, just faintly off-kilter, as if the air itself carried a secret it wasn't ready to reveal.
He moved quietly through the village, carrying a small basket of herbs his mother had asked him to gather. Villagers called greetings as usual, but Lin Feng noticed the subtle changes — a stray dog lingering longer than usual near the well, a wind that shifted too suddenly to be natural, the leaves of a willow tree brushing against each other in a rhythm that almost looked deliberate.
Lin Feng tilted his head and smiled faintly. "Odd little world," he murmured.
He had come to accept that the village, the mountains, the river, and even the weather were all full of patterns most people never noticed. It was enough for him to observe. Enough to learn.
---
The path to the river was quiet. Morning mist clung to the grass, hiding the irregularities in the soil. Lin Feng walked with his hands tucked into his sleeves, eyes scanning for anything unusual.
That was when he noticed it: a faint distortion in the water's surface, like the reflection wasn't following the rules. He knelt, brushing the surface with his finger, but it was nothing tangible. Just a flicker, a pulse, and then normality returned.
"Curious," he said under his breath. The word felt inadequate, but it was all he had.
He didn't realize it, but the ripple had been noticed. Not by human eyes, but by something older, something patient, hidden in the trees. A pair of amber eyes blinked from the shadows, studying him, waiting for him to do something — anything.
---
Lin Feng turned and followed the river upstream, moving past familiar rocks and reeds. Somewhere halfway, a fallen log spanned the river, moss-coated and slick. He paused, considering it, and then stepped carefully across.
That was when he felt it: a small tug, faint and inexplicable, pulling at his chest as if his heartbeat were being mirrored by something else in the world.
He froze, listening. Nothing. The air was still. The river flowed quietly. Yet the sensation remained, subtle but persistent. Lin Feng smiled faintly, more to amuse himself than anything else.
"Not much, yet," he whispered, "but enough to notice."
And then, without warning, a figure stepped from the shadows of the nearby trees.
It was the old man from the fields — ragged, bent, but moving with a quiet authority that belied his appearance. Lin Feng had wondered who he really was. Today, he was about to find out, in small measure.
"Walk with me," the man said quietly, gesturing toward the deeper part of the forest. "There is something you need to see."
Lin Feng raised an eyebrow. "See? You do like to be mysterious, don't you?"
The old man did not answer. He simply walked, and Lin Feng followed, curious despite himself.
---
The deeper forest was cooler, damp with moss and fallen leaves. Shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy, creating uneven patterns on the ground. Lin Feng noticed them immediately — patterns that weren't random, like someone had deliberately placed them to guide attention.
"Do you see it?" the old man asked, crouching near a small stream.
Lin Feng leaned down. The stream was narrow, its water clear. And for the first time, he saw it: faint lines, almost imperceptible, moving under the surface. They weren't fish. Not entirely. The lines moved with a pattern, forming shapes he couldn't name.
"Shapes?" Lin Feng asked.
"Energy," the old man corrected softly. "Or something very close to it. You've sensed it before — in the fields, in the puddle yesterday. But this…" He gestured at the stream. "This is more. Subtle, but alive."
Lin Feng frowned. "I don't understand."
"You will," the man said. "Not today. Not tomorrow. But if you keep noticing, keep paying attention, one day it will make sense. Perhaps sooner than you expect."
Lin Feng smirked faintly. "I have a habit of noticing things. Trouble tends to follow."
The old man chuckled. "And yet you are still alive, boy. That is… impressive, in its own way."
---
They sat by the stream in silence for a while. Lin Feng tried to follow the patterns under the water, but they shifted like living things, almost teasing him. He could feel his chest tighten slightly — not with fear, but anticipation.
"You are not ordinary," the man said after a long pause. "But that does not mean you are ready. Patience is your ally. Understanding is your weapon. You must learn to wait, to watch, to feel before acting."
Lin Feng tilted his head, thinking. "Patience… understanding. Not very heroic, but practical. I like it."
The old man studied him carefully. "There is more to power than fire and lightning, boy. Most people seek strength and find only destruction. You… may learn differently, if you survive long enough."
Lin Feng chuckled softly. "Survival is a full-time job around here. Power can wait."
---
As afternoon turned toward evening, they walked back to the village. Lin Feng's mind was alive with observation, noting not only the stream and patterns of energy but the subtle ways the old man moved — precise, deliberate, almost invisible. Something about him reminded Lin Feng of the faint impressions he sometimes glimpsed in his dreams. Shadows of a memory that felt like his own, though he couldn't place it.
When they reached the edge of the village, the old man paused. "You will see more, one day," he said. "But not yet. Not until the world tests you in ways you cannot predict."
Lin Feng nodded. "I suppose that's fair."
The man turned and walked into the shadows of the forest again. Lin Feng watched him go, feeling the tug of curiosity, the whisper of something larger waiting just beyond the village.
---
Night fell slowly, silver light spilling across the paddies and rooftops. Lin Feng found himself once more at the riverbank, staring at his reflection. The stars were out, scattered and still, but tonight, something in the water shifted in response to his gaze. A faint flicker, like a memory brushing against the surface.
He touched the water lightly with his fingers. The ripple moved unnaturally, almost like it were reaching back. Lin Feng drew back quickly, startled, but not afraid.
"Curious," he whispered, half to himself, half to the night. "Always curious."
He didn't know what he had felt. He didn't know why the water had reacted. All he knew was that the world was slightly larger, slightly stranger, than it had been yesterday. And that small realization brought a quiet thrill.
The night deepened. Lin Feng returned to his hut, sitting quietly on the straw mat before finally lying down. Sleep came slowly, and even then, it was restless — filled with glimpses of places he did not know, of skies he had never seen, and of a presence he could almost feel behind his own heartbeat.
He woke before dawn, the dream already fading, but its impression lingered. Something had begun. Not power, not memory, not mastery — only awareness.
But awareness was enough.
And Lin Feng had it in abundance.