Minghao opened his eyes. Light stabbed into his mind like a blade. He was still in the same small, battered room, but what caught his attention wasn't the pain in his body—it was the sunlight.
A single ray sliced through a crack in the wall, revealing dust drifting in the air.It took me twenty‑five years to see a single ray of light, he thought. Something so ordinary, yet to him it was a miracle.He blinked several times, unsure how to handle the flood of color. The wooden floor, the cracked walls, even the dirt—they all felt too bright. The room smelled of sweat and old straw. When he put his feet to the ground, the cold dirt stung, and that sensation—real, alive—made his heart ache."Hey! You're awake!"The voice startled him. Someone was calling a name he didn't recognize.A boy ran inside—thin, quick, filled with nervous energy. "Minghao! You look lost. You're scaring me."Minghao frowned. "Who are you?"The boy froze. "You... really hit your head. I'm Lian. Your friend! You're Minghao. You lost the competition yesterday. They nearly killed you."The name sank like a stone in his chest. Minghao... is that me?He remembered the smell of a hospital, his mother's voice, a promise of sight—but none of this world. Not this body, not these memories."I don't remember any of that," he said quietly, frustration creeping into his tone. "Nothing. Not who I am, not this place. Not even what I've been fighting for."Lian sighed, rubbing his neck. "Fine, I'll explain again." He sat down on an upturned crate. "We're in the Gu Ling Clan. Every one of us here is an orphan. The Clan takes us in, trains us, feeds us—if we can survive the training. In this world, the strong stand above all. The weak have no right to speak."His words hung heavy in the air."So, this Clan..." Minghao hesitated. "We train to be strong?""Yes. Every year there's a competition. Only twenty win the right to leave this place and go live in the outside world. You joined to win that freedom."Freedom. The word struck something deep inside him—the one thing both lives shared.He rose painfully to his feet. "I want to see this world. I can't stay shut inside anymore."Lian looked at him as if torn between amusement and pity. "You've only been awake for an hour, and already you're dreaming big again. Fine. The Master asked for you anyway."They stepped outside.The Clan's compound was larger than he'd imagined: rows of weathered huts and makeshift arenas spread across uneven hills. Children meditated in silence. Teenagers struck sandbags and stone pillars until their knuckles bled. The air pulsed with raw effort—a world built from pain and perseverance.Lian led him past the training grounds to the largest building, an old hall of dark wood and stone.An imposing man stood at its center, robes caught in a slow mountain breeze. Even without moving, he radiated power. Lian bowed immediately. "Master Dao Feng."Minghao followed awkwardly.Dao Feng's eyes were calm but deep, like water hiding a current. "You gave us a scare, child," he said. "The moment you fell, most thought it was over for you. I'm glad to see you breathing.""I'm fine now, Master," Minghao said. "Just sore."A faint smile touched the Master's lips. "You push too hard for someone who barely began cultivation a year ago. Tell me, Minghao—do you really think strength can be forced in so short a time?"Minghao hesitated. "I don't know, Master. But I... I just wanted to be outside."Dao Feng's gaze sharpened but not unkindly. "Outside? The world beyond these walls isn't freedom. Not yet. The gate you dream of stands open, but every path there is lined with chains. One day you'll understand why I keep you all here."He turned away, voice quieter. "Train your heart before your fists, boy. Cultivation without purpose is no different than blindness."The words lingered long after the conversation ended. Minghao thought of the light through the crack in his wall—his first ray of freedom—and wondered if it was truly as simple as just walking toward it.