In the towering reaches of Hollow Echo Mountain, where clouds drifted like slow-moving rivers, sat the Thousand Spirit Sect — a place where young cultivators trained to defy the heavens.
Among them was a boy no one really noticed.
His name was Lin Feng.
---
He wasn't talented.
He hadn't awakened a powerful spirit root, didn't come from a noble family, and had no master to guide him. His robes were plain, and his presence so quiet that even his fellow disciples forgot he was there.
If someone asked, "Who's Lin Feng?" they might answer:
> "Oh, the one who sweeps the courtyard?"
"Is he still here?"
"I thought he quit last year."
But Lin Feng had not quit.
Every morning, before the sun rose, he was already awake. While others still slept, he stood behind the northern pavilion, fists striking a wooden training post.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
He practiced the same low-grade technique again and again — Stone Root Stance — a basic body tempering method most gave up after a month.
Lin Feng had practiced it for three years.
---
During meals, he sat alone. While others talked about breakthroughs and argued over cultivation pills, he quietly ate plain rice and left without a word.
He didn't mind being ignored.
But sometimes, in the stillness of the night, when the mountain winds whispered past his window, Lin Feng would lie awake — heart beating strangely, body aching for no reason.
Sometimes, he felt something moving inside his veins, like energy that wasn't his.
And sometimes, he would dream of things he couldn't explain.
---
A gate made of stars.
A voice calling his name.
A man walking away in the rain.
But when he woke, those memories slipped away like mist. He didn't tell anyone — not after the first time, when a senior looked at him with fear and whispered, "That boy's cursed."
From then on, he kept it all to himself.
---
Then, one morning, a red paper notice appeared on the outer court board.
> "In three days: Outer Court Trial.
Those without progress must stand before the Mirror of Resolve.
Five will be removed.
One may perish."
It was a rule the sect upheld every year.
The weak were cast out.
And the truly hopeless… were erased.
---
That evening, Lin Feng stood alone beneath a pine tree. Wind brushed through the leaves, and the sky was turning violet with dusk.
He opened the only item he'd carried with him since childhood — a scroll of faded parchment.
On it were just a few words:
> "Seek the Path. It will awaken."
He didn't know who gave it to him. He couldn't even remember where he came from before the sect.
But somehow, deep in his bones, he knew he couldn't give up.
Even if the world forgot his name — he wouldn't.