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"How a single corner of the world birthed so many prodigies remains a mystery"— Opening words of Heavenly History
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The evening mist clung to the willow leaves. Teacher Song Ming strolled through the village, his black robes brushing the worn path as he leaned on his walking stick, humming a soft, melancholy tune. The air was quiet, broken only by the distant cluck of hens settling for the night and the steady drip of water from the eaves.
By the riverside, shadows lengthened and merged with the darkening water. Song Ming's sharp eyes caught a pair of figures beneath the old willow tree, its branches swaying lazily in the evening breeze. There, curled together on the riverbank, were Long Tianyu and Hua Qingqing, both fast asleep. Long Tianyu's head rested awkwardly on Qingqing's shoulder, his mouth slightly open, a thin line of drool glinting in the dim light. Her zither lay beside her, and her gentle breathing seemed to flow in time with the soft ripple of the stream.
Song Ming paused mid-step, raising an eyebrow before letting out a quiet chuckle. "Hehe… young love," he murmured, stroking his beard. "So pure, so foolish. Heaven help them when they discover the world's true ways."
He shook his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes, and turned toward the Long family home as lanterns began to flicker to life along the narrow village paths.
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Inside the modest bamboo house on the outskirts of the village, Long Jian and Long Meilin were preparing the evening meal. The savory scent of simmering stew mingled with the faint sweetness of steamed buns. The quiet of the evening was punctuated by a knock at the door.
"Ah, Teacher Song," Long Meilin greeted him, bowing lightly. "Is everything well?"
Teacher Song Ming stepped in, his tone calm but purposeful. Song Ming's lips curved into a faint smile. "Everything's peaceful. Though… I did happen upon your son this evening. Sleeping rather soundly… next to Hua Qingqing."
Long Jian's hand nearly slipped from the ladle he held. "What, under the willow again?"
Song Ming chuckled softly. "Indeed. But that is not why I have come." His expression darkened slightly as he set down his walking stick. "Your son, Tianyu… he and Hua Qingqing have done something extraordinary. They've sensed and absorbed qi. Both of them."
The room fell silent, the crackle of the fire seeming unnaturally loud in the dim evening light.
"Mmm… he told us…" Long Jian said cautiously.
"I saw it with my own eyes," Song Ming replied. "Even I, after decades of cultivation, have never managed to draw it into my spiritual core. It is as though heaven itself has taken a liking to them."
Pride and worry wrestled across Long Jian's face. "That boy… he always dreamed of immortals. Said he'd reach the heavens someday. Perhaps fate wasn't mocking him after all."
Song Ming nodded. "Perhaps. But he must be careful. If he grows arrogant or cultivates recklessly, he could harm himself… or worse."
Long Meilin glanced toward the lantern-lit doorway, her voice soft. "We will guide him. Thank you, Teacher Song."
The old man smiled faintly, gripping his walking stick once more. "He will need it. The path he has stepped onto… is one few mortals ever tread."
Later, Hua Shen also received a visit from Song Ming. The conversation was almost the same, though Hua Shen nearly stormed off when Song Ming mentioned the two under the willow tree. He had expected such audacity from Long Tianyu, yet even so… damn that boy.
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Long Tianyu stirred awake, stretching his arms and blinking at the morning light filtering through the willow branches. His hair was a tangled mess once again, and a faint imprint of Hua Qingqing's sleeve marked his cheek.
The first thing he saw was Hua Qingqing's serene face, her eyes half-lidded as she plucked soft notes from her zither. The melody floated like mist, tender, melancholic, a song of quiet longing. It wasn't the same gentle tune from last night; this one carried a subtle sadness, whispering memories of someone far away.
Tianyu rubbed his eyes and grinned. "That's new," he murmured.
Hua Qingqing didn't look up. "Good morning, sleepy immortal."
Tianyu blinked, scratching his head. "Immortal? Why?"
Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "You were muttering in your sleep again. Something about 'slaying evil demons' and 'ascending to the heavens.' You even kicked my leg while doing it."
His face turned bright red. "W–What? I—I was probably practicing cultivation… in my dreams!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Practicing or thrashing?"
Long Tianyu puffed out his chest, trying to recover some dignity. "Well, who knows? Maybe it was a sign of the future! You'll see, Qingqing—I might really be able to foresee destiny itself!"
"Mm." She nodded playfully. "Then I hope you saw yourself cleaning up the mud you tracked in yesterday."
He groaned. "You sound just like my mother."
Her laughter, soft and bell-like, danced with the wind. They lingered there for a while, the music blending with the babbling of the stream and the croaks of frogs in the reeds. The morning was peaceful, like a painting that refused to fade.
Eventually, they stood, brushing grass from their clothes and carrying the zither back to the village hall.
Inside, they met a middle aged man, the Village Head, Song Xuan. Tall, with black hair streaked with silver and a calm, commanding presence, he was Song Xue's father, the one who oversaw the daily lives of the villagers. His eyes, sharp yet kind, landed on the pair as they entered.
"Ah, the heroes of the day," he said warmly. "Song Ming tells me you've taken your first steps toward cultivation."
Long Tianyu straightened proudly. "Yes, Village Head! I can feel the energy moving inside me, like warmth under my ribs!"
Song Xuan chuckled. "Treat that warmth carefully. Qi is as fickle as the wind. Guide it wrongly, and it might turn on you."
Long Tianyu and Hua Qingqing bowed respectfully. "Yes, Village Head."
He smiled approvingly. "Good. Both of you, keep practicing. But stay humble. Power is a test of heart more than strength. Remember that."
They nodded in unison, bowing deeply again before leaving the hall.
By midday, Long Tianyu's restless energy returned. "I'll go see Chen Jie and Zang Liu," he said, hopping off the path. "I'm planning to join them in the mines today."
"Mining?" Hua Qingqing asked, a little surprised.
He grinned. "Well, I can't live off air and qi yet. Besides, if I'm ever to have Nong Xuanfeng forge a sword, I should at least know where metal comes from! Also, it'll be good practice for the body."
She laughed softly. "Just don't collapse the mountain."
"I'll try not to!" he called over his shoulder, running off.
The path toward the Shadowjade Mountain mines was rugged but well-trodden. Wagons with worn wheels stood by the side, and the faint metallic scent of ore filled the air.
Near the entrance, Chen Jie and Zang Liu stood with pickaxes slung over their shoulders. Chen Jie wore soot-stained trousers and a worn top. Zang Liu, taller and leaner, had his long hair tied back with a strip of hemp cloth. Their parents often helped with mapping tunnels for safety; both families had mined these mountains for generations.
"Oi! Tianyu!" Chen Jie waved. "What are you doing here?"
Long Tianyu grinned. "I want to join you in the mines!"
Both of them exchanged a glance.
Zang Liu smirked. "Careful what you wish for, boy. The mountain takes from those who don't respect it."
Long Tianyu nodded solemnly… then immediately tripped over a loose rock, sprawling into the dirt. Both men roared with laughter.
"A good start!" Chen Jie bellowed.
The air inside the mine was damp and heavy. Lanterns flickered along the walls, casting long, trembling shadows. The scent of wet stone, metal, and earth clung to the skin.
Chen Jie pointed down a dim corridor. "See those arrows carved into the wall? They lead to the exit. Get lost, follow them back. And don't wander too far—these tunnels have moods."
"Got it," Long Tianyu said, gripping his pickaxe.
He swung. The first strike jarred his arms all the way to his shoulders. "Ugh!" he grunted. "How do you do this every day?"
Chen Jie laughed. "By not complaining after the first hit!"
Hours passed in the dim light. The rhythmic clang of picks echoed like drums of the earth itself. Sweat dripped from Long Tianyu's brow as he worked beside the miners, his muscles burning, breath ragged, but inside, he felt alive. The faint qi coursing through his body lent him just enough strength to keep going.
Then, as he struck the wall one more time, his pick scraped something that didn't sound quite right—a sharp, metallic chime instead of the dull thud of stone.
He frowned, brushing away dust. Beneath the rock was something dark, almost black-blue, with faint veins of silver glimmering like trapped lightning.
"Hey!" he called. "Chen Jie! Zang Liu! Come look at this!"
The two hurried over, eyes widening at the sight.
"Well, I'll be damned," Chen Jie muttered, crouching to touch it. "That's not Shadowjade Ore."
Zang Liu ran his fingers along the stone's edge. It was cool, unnaturally so, almost humming faintly under his touch. "Never seen anything like it. It's dense… and alive."
"Alive?" Tianyu asked, stepping closer.
"Feels like it's breathing," Zang Liu replied slowly. "You might've just found something worth more than gold."
Chen Jie grinned, slapping Long Tianyu's back so hard he nearly fell forward. "You've got good luck! Take it to Nong Xuanfeng's family. They will know what kind of metal this is."
Long Tianyu's eyes gleamed. "A sword! Maybe it's fate!"
Chen Jie laughed. "Heh, you and your swords!"
Long Tianyu carefully chiseled out a chunk of the mysterious ore, its surface shimmering faintly even in the dim lantern light. He wrapped it in cloth, heart pounding with excitement.
As he left the mine, the sunlight nearly blinded him. The mountain breeze carried the scent of Shadowjade Bamboo.
He looked back toward the dark tunnel behind him, a strange feeling tugging at his chest. The ore in his hands pulsed faintly—almost like a heartbeat.
Long Tianyu smiled, holding the ore close, and ran toward the village.
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Chen Jie and Zang Liu crouched over the rocky ground, their eyes glinting in the dim torchlight like two wolves who had just spotted a free lamb. They exchanged sly grins, the sound of their low chuckles echoing off the stone walls.
"Good job getting him away," Chen Jie whispered, glancing at Zang Liu. "There has to be a big vein in here… and it'll be ours. Hahaa!"
Zang Liu's laugh was darker, almost a hiss, as he swung his pick and sent a shower of sparks scattering across the walls. "Once we find it, no one will stop us. Not him, not anyone."
The two of them dug with fervor, stone chips flying in every direction. Each strike of their picks reverberated through the narrow tunnels, a harsh rhythm that mingled with the dripping of unseen water somewhere deeper in the mine. The dust hung thick in the air, clinging to their hair and clothes, making their breaths harsh and labored.
Hours passed. Sweat ran down their faces, streaking the dirt on their skin. Yet still, they dug, driven by greed and the thrill of discovery. Occasionally, they would pause, listening for any sound that might betray someone approaching, but the mine seemed utterly deserted… until a distant scrape or shift of stone made their hearts jump.
By the time night had fully fallen, darkness enveloped them completely, save for the flickering torchlight. The silence was almost suffocating, broken only by the scratching of their picks and the occasional rumble of distant rockfalls.
Then, suddenly, a sound tore through the tunnel like thunder.
"DAMNIT!"
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End of chapter 7 - Newfound treasure