Snow fell endlessly across the sacred mountain, each flake shimmering like fragments of jade under the silver moon. In the heart of the hidden valley, within a secluded bamboo courtyard, a girl no older than five sat silently by a frozen lake. Her pale hands rested on her knees, her silver hair draped over her shoulders like strands of starlight.
Her name was Feixue.
Unlike other children, her presence carried an unnatural stillness. When she inhaled, the lake rippled. When she exhaled, the snow slowed, as though time itself was hesitant to move. Even without cultivation, her body resonated faintly with the laws of the world.
That day, the clan elders watched her from afar. They hid their auras, yet their hearts pounded.
"She does not breathe qi as mortals do…" whispered one elder, his lips pale.
The Grand Elder's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed upon the girl. "No. She is aligning heaven and earth to herself."
At that moment, Feixue's eyes opened. They were cold and clear, like frozen mirrors reflecting eternity. A faint blue glow pulsed in her pupils, and the lake before her froze solid with a sharp crack. The stars reflected on its surface shattered into countless fragments of light.
Her tiny body trembled, but she did not cry. Instead, she sat straighter, her aura growing sharper—like a blade unsheathed for the first time.
Suddenly, the world shifted. The snowfall stopped midair, frozen in place. A silence fell so deep that even the wind vanished. In that stillness, the elders felt it—the pulse of countless Daos.
❄ The Dao of Ice, wrapping her in a crown of frost.
⚔ The Dao of Sword, resonating with the wooden toy she held.
⏳ The Dao of Time, stretching the moment into eternity.
🌌 The Dao of Space, bending faintly at her presence.
☠ The Dao of Death, lingering like a shadow at her back.
🌊 The Dao of Water, flowing endlessly through her meridians.
✨ And beneath it all, a faint ripple of Origin, vast and unfathomable.
The elders' hearts sank.
"This… this cannot be. A mortal child should not be able to grasp even one Dao…"
"Yet she carries seven!"
The Grand Elder clenched his fist, his ancient face trembling. "No, perhaps even more are hidden. This girl… is a seed the heavens themselves will not tolerate."
As though in answer to his words, the sky rumbled. A thin crack appeared among the clouds, from which an unseen will descended—cold, merciless, seeking to erase what should not exist. The frozen lake trembled. The snow turned to ash in midair.
The elders panicked. "Heaven has noticed her already! At five years old—this is too soon!"
But Feixue merely tilted her head, staring up at the rift. Her silver eyes glowed faintly. She raised her wooden sword and, with a simple flick of her wrist, pointed at the heavens.
Snow surged upward. Each flake turned into a shard of ice, swirling around her like an army of swords. The oppressive will paused, as though hesitating. Then—just as quickly as it had appeared—it withdrew. The rift sealed, the clouds dispersed, and silence returned.
The elders collapsed to their knees, drenched in cold sweat.
"The heavens retreated… before a child."
"This is no blessing," one muttered, voice trembling. "This is a calamity. If she grows unchecked, she will one day overturn the balance of realms."
But the Grand Elder's voice was firm, though his eyes shone with dread. "Calamity or blessing, it matters not. She is ours. From this day forward, her existence must be hidden, her path protected. Not a word of her gift shall reach the outside world."
Within the courtyard, Feixue lowered her wooden sword. Her expression did not change—calm, cold, unreadable.
She did not understand destiny. She did not understand calamity. She only knew the snow, the sword, and the silence.
And deep within her small heart, a spark flickered.
One day, she would carve her own path—
even if she had to defy the heavens themselves.