The night was thick with silence as Shao Xian led Lin Feng through the ruins of the small martial school. The boy followed without hesitation, his small frame barely making a sound on the debris-covered ground. Though malnourished and weak, his hatred burned brightly, and that was all that mattered.
Shao Xian did not need sentimentality—he needed tools, weapons to be honed and unleashed at the right time. Lin Feng, despite his current state, had survived something that should have killed him. That alone proved his potential.
"Can you still walk?" Shao Xian asked without looking back.
Lin Feng's steps were uneven, but he gritted his teeth and nodded. "Yes."
Shao Xian smirked. Good. He does not complain. That is the first lesson of survival.
Without another word, he continued forward, guiding them away from the wreckage. They had no reason to linger; there was nothing left in this place but ashes and ghosts.
The Jiang Clan's cruelty had wiped out many, but their mistake was thinking they had erased every trace of resistance. All it took was one ember to ignite a wildfire.
Tonight, Shao Xian had found that ember.
---
Hours passed before they finally stopped in a secluded grove deep within the forest. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting shadows that danced like restless specters.
Shao Xian sat by the base of a large tree and gestured for Lin Feng to do the same. The boy obeyed without question.
"What do you know of cultivation?" Shao Xian asked.
Lin Feng hesitated. "My father… he was teaching me. But I never reached the first realm." His voice was tinged with shame.
Shao Xian was not surprised. The Jiang Clan's extermination had been thorough. The child was lucky to even be alive, let alone properly trained. But talent was secondary to willpower.
"You are weak," Shao Xian stated bluntly. "If I left you here, you would die."
Lin Feng tensed but did not argue. He understood his own helplessness.
Shao Xian leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "But weakness is not permanent. Strength is forged through suffering. If you are willing to endure, to cast aside your humanity, I will make you powerful."
Lin Feng clenched his fists, his eyes burning with desperation. "I'll do anything."
Shao Xian smirked. That was the answer he wanted to hear.
"Then listen carefully."
He extended a single finger, and the air around them trembled slightly. A faint ripple of energy spread from his body, so subtle that only someone attuned to it would notice.
Lin Feng's breath caught. "That's…"
"Killing intent," Shao Xian murmured. "The difference between the strong and the weak is not just power. It is the will to kill."
Lin Feng shivered. Even in his young mind, he understood what Shao Xian was saying.
"The Jiang Clan slaughtered your family because they saw them as weak," Shao Xian continued. "Strength alone means nothing if you hesitate when it matters. If you want vengeance, you must become a monster greater than them."
Lin Feng's small fists trembled, but this time, it was not from fear.
It was from determination.
---
As the night passed, Shao Xian began Lin Feng's training.
The first lesson was control.
"Close your eyes," Shao Xian instructed.
Lin Feng obeyed, his breathing uneven.
"Think of your pain. The fire. The blood. The moment your world ended."
Lin Feng flinched, his body stiffening. He did not want to remember.
Shao Xian's voice turned cold. "If you cannot face your past, you will never control your future."
A deep breath. Lin Feng's fists clenched. He forced himself to recall everything.
His mother's scream. The sound of blades slicing through flesh. The stench of burning wood and corpses.
Rage surged within him, raw and unfiltered.
Shao Xian observed him carefully. Yes. This is what he needs. Not comfort. Not kindness. But fury.
"You feel that?" Shao Xian asked.
Lin Feng nodded, his voice strained. "Yes."
"That is your weapon," Shao Xian said. "Most cultivators seek balance, peace, and harmony. You will not. You will embrace your hatred, refine it, and use it to carve your path."
Lin Feng's breathing was ragged, but when he opened his eyes, they were sharper.
Shao Xian was satisfied. This child will not break. He will become a blade.
---
Dawn arrived, casting the forest in hues of gold and crimson.
Lin Feng had collapsed from exhaustion hours ago, his small body unable to endure more. But that was fine. Training was not just about the body—it was about reshaping the mind.
Shao Xian rose to his feet. His business in Blackwood Town was not yet finished.
Jiang Tian still walked free. That was unacceptable.
But to strike now would be foolish. He was still an unknown factor to the Jiang Clan, a ghost lurking in the shadows. He would keep it that way until the time was right.
He glanced at Lin Feng's sleeping form. For now, the boy was of no use in battle.
That would change soon.
But Shao Xian did not believe in waiting idly.
Tonight, he would begin his first true move against Jiang Tian.
---
The Moonlit Pavilion was just as crowded as before, its patrons lost in drink, deals, and quiet betrayals.
Shao Xian entered unnoticed, taking a familiar seat in the shadows.
Not long after, the two mercenaries he had bribed before arrived, spotting him immediately.
"Back so soon?" the scarred man asked, dropping into the seat across from him.
Shao Xian slid another small pouch across the table. "I have another job."
The wiry mercenary picked up the pouch, glancing inside. "This is quite a bit for just 'information.'"
Shao Xian's expression remained unreadable. "That's because I don't just need information this time."
The mercenaries exchanged a look. "What do you need?"
Shao Xian leaned in slightly, his voice quiet but firm.
"I need a message sent."
The scarred man smirked. "And what kind of message would that be?"
Shao Xian's gaze darkened. "One that Jiang Tian will never forget."
The mercenaries grinned. They liked this kind of work.
Shao Xian placed a folded piece of parchment onto the table. "Deliver this to one of Jiang Tian's men. Any of them will do. Make sure it gets back to him."
The wiry man raised a brow. "What's in it?"
Shao Xian's smirk was cold. "A promise."
---
That night, as Jiang Tian sat in the lavish hall of his estate, sipping fine wine, one of his guards rushed in, breathless and pale.
"What is it?" Jiang Tian asked, irritated at the interruption.
The guard handed him a small piece of parchment, his hands trembling.
Jiang Tian frowned, unfolding it.
His eyes scanned the words, and for the first time in years, his heart clenched with fear.
"You have taken much. Soon, you will lose everything.
Enjoy your final moments of peace, Jiang Tian."
There was no signature.
Just a name written at the bottom.
Xian.
Jiang Tian's grip tightened, crumpling the parchment. His face darkened.
"Find whoever sent this," he ordered, his voice low and deadly. "I want them dead."
But even as he spoke, a shiver ran down his spine.
Because the writing…
It was familiar. Too familiar.
Jiang Tian had seen it once before, in a life he thought was long buried.
And that terrified him.