In a quiet corner of the mansion, the first light of morning spilled through the thin, worn curtains, painting the bare floor with soft gold. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunbeams, catching the light like tiny drifting stars. A cool breeze slipped through a crack in the door, carrying the faint scent of wet earth and blooming wildflowers from the courtyard outside.
On a plain wooden stool sat a boy of sixteen, his azure-white robe brushed by the morning wind. His back was straight, but his dark-blue eyes were far away, wandering through thoughts of the trials that awaited him. His chest rose and fell in quiet rhythm, like the calm before a coming storm.
Behind him, his mother's hands—worn by years of toil, yet soft with care—combed through his long, dark hair. She gathered each strand carefully, tying them with a simple silk cord. Her touch lingered on his shoulders, warm and steady, like a silent blessing. Without words, she seemed to whisper: No matter how far you go, my heart will follow you.
Though poverty weighed on their home, it could not dim the quiet beauty of his mother. Her clothes were old and faded, yet they were always clean, carrying the faint scent of sun and soap. Her hair, long and black with a few silver strands, was tied simply, yet it shone softly in the morning light like threads of night touched by dawn.
Her skin, though no longer smooth from years of labor, still held the gentle glow of warmth and care. Her eyes were deep and dark, holding the patience of someone who had endured storms without breaking. They carried a kindness that could calm a restless heart, and a strength that could bear a world's worth of burden.
When she smiled, it was not with the fresh charm of youth, but with a tenderness that came from love hard-earned and freely given—a smile that could light even the dimmest room. In the courtyard, with the sunlight resting on her face, she looked less like a woman worn by hardship and more like the heart of a home—steady, unshaken, and beautiful in the way only time and devotion can create.
The soft cooing of doves from the courtyard mingled with the rustle of bamboo leaves outside, a gentle soundtrack to their quiet moment.
The boy's voice broke the morning stillness, firm and full of determination.
"Mother… you said before that Father was kind and gentle. Once, our clan faced a sudden beast tide. Countless beasts attacked the village. At that time, the Flame Masters were unprepared. Chaos swept through our home. Many ordinary people died… but Father, who was then only a Stage Two cultivator, fought with everything he had to save them.
A powerful beast struck him during the battle. He held it off until the villagers could reach safety, but he used his spiritual flame too fiercely, too quickly. His soul was burned in the process. After that… he sought help, but he passed away within three months."His jaw tightens slightly when speaking of his father's death.
His mother's hands, still gentle though worn with toil, rested lightly on his shoulder. Her eyes carried both sorrow and quiet strength. "Yes, my child. After that, we had to live in the outer area of the clan. Before I met your father, that was where I lived. But he… he brought me into the inner area with him, gave me safety and care."
Shu Man's gaze hardened, his voice trembling with a mix of grief and resolve. "Mother, I will take you there again. Once I become a Flame Master, no one will dare humiliate you. You only need to endure until the end of my awakening ceremony. I will make sure… I will earn the best qualification, and bring honor back to you."
She cupped his face gently, a small, sad smile on her lips. "Shou Man… this is not something a human can achieve by hard work alone. It depends on luck, on talent. So if you fail… then let it go. I don't want you to die so young. Whether you pass or not does not matter. The first thing I want… is your safety."
A soft wind rustled through the courtyard, brushing Shou Man's hair across his forehead. Birds chirped in the distance, unaware of the heavy weight carried by one small boy. Yet in that light, with the morning sun warm on their faces, determination blazed brighter than any fear.
Shou Man took a deep breath, his heart steadying itself. He bowed slightly to his mother, a silent promise passing between them. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with danger—but he would walk it, step by step, for her, for his father, and for the life they deserved.
Shou Man turned slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Mother, please don't worry. I will obey your words… I won't push myself."
Yet in his heart, a hidden flame burned brightly: Mother… fifteen years ago when I was only one years old, Father died—a Stage Two Flame Master. After that, his brothers tricked you, taking everything that was my father's. The clan elders did nothing. I swear… one day I'll return it all to you. I'll become stronger than them. Stronger than all of them.
Rising from the stool, Shou Man began walking toward the awakening ceremony. The old wooden boards beneath his feet creaked with each step. His mother followed him to the front of their house. The structure was in a sorry state—most of the beams had rotted, the door hung crooked, and some wood had split under the weight of years. A single sparrow perched on the fence watched them silently, tilting its head as if understanding their heavy hearts.
Before leaving, Shou Man turned for one last look. His mother's eyes were filled with worry, the kind only a mother knows. She understood him too well—how he would risk everything to give her a better life. She didn't want that. No mother wants her child to trade his life for her comfort. She was no different.
In her heart, one thought lingered, gentle yet fierce: I only wish for him to live… even if we remain poor forever.
When Shou Man leave a curtain distance her facial expressions change.Its became dark and gloomy.She exhales slowly, shoulders relaxing as if a mask has been dropped.She sneered in mind,"Shou Han our son's personality is not like you.He is really gentle, kind hearted and want to become stronger to protect his lovely one which is fully opposite to you.I will be glad to seeing your expression.He is like that name that I give him,Shou Man what's means "Protector of Grace".I successfully to making your son opposite you.My dear our child is grown so fast.Fifteen years past that you leave me.If I don't have to take revenge from you by this way than I will take my life that day when you leave us and come in the after hell to personally torcher you."
The morning breeze carried a whisper of warmth, brushing past them as if urging him onward. Birds chirped from the trees, a quiet celebration of daybreak, and the distant mountains shimmered with the glow of dawn. Shou Man stepped forward, the sound of his own footsteps mingling with the soft songs of the morning, each step taking him closer to destiny—and farther from the safety of home.
Shou Man was sixteen, standing tall for his age, with a lean frame shaped more by hard work than by training. His hair was dark and straight, tied neatly for the ceremony, and the morning light caught a faint blue sheen in its strands. His dark-blue eyes held both the softness of youth and the sharpness of unshaken resolve, like a calm sea hiding deep currents.
He wore an azure-white robe, plain but clean, its fabric moving gently in the morning breeze. Though his face still carried the innocence of a boy, there was a quiet strength in the way he held himself—shoulders straight, chin slightly lifted—as if already facing the path ahead without fear.
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