The world above the clouds was silent.Snow drifted across the jagged spines of Mount Wujie, turning the air white and still. The mountain stood so high that even eagles avoided its peaks. The villagers below whispered that this was where the gods once forged their swords — where mortals touched the sky.
At the summit, an old man sat cross-legged before a pool of still water.His robe was plain gray, frayed at the edges, his hair long and silver. Yet the stillness around him carried a weight that could bend the will of beasts and kings alike.This was Grandmaster Tian Xu, the greatest martial artist under Heaven — the man who had defeated a thousand sects yet sought no throne, who had chosen to live in solitude rather than rule the world he could conquer.
The wind stirred faintly. He opened his eyes.Two stars of light — calm, sharp, eternal.
"So it begins," he murmured. "The seven flames return to the mountain."
Arrival at Wujie Peak
The first to appear through the mist was a young man in royal blue. His every step was silent, though the snow crunched for no other soul. A wooden box hung upon his back, long and narrow, engraved with twelve characters that pulsed faintly with spiritual light.
He was Li Wuxin, Crown Prince of the Li Empire, third son of Emperor Li Xuanyang. The box he carried was the Heart Sword Box, a relic said to contain twelve legendary swords, each forged from the heart of a fallen star.
Li Wuxin's gaze was calm — too calm for someone so young. Behind that serenity was power honed through endless nights of discipline. When the wind stirred, the faintest shimmer of blade-light rippled around him.
A soft chuckle echoed behind.
"Even the snow gives way for the prince. Tell me, Brother Li, do you command the sky as well now?"
Li Wuxin turned slightly, smiling.
"No, Brother Feng. The sky only moves aside when someone noisier arrives."
The speaker stepped from the fog twirling an ornate folding fan of white jade. Feng Lianyu, known across the martial world as The Most Peerless. His beauty was almost unearthly — hair tied with silver ribbon, robe of sky silk fluttering with deliberate grace. His every motion carried rhythm, precision, and elegance; yet beneath it all was the unpredictable danger of a storm waiting to dance.
Behind him came a burst of laughter loud enough to scatter the mist.
"Heh! While you two talk poetry, some of us climb mountains like men!"
A tall figure bounded up the stone path, muscles bare despite the cold, snow melting before his heat. His hands were scarred, his smile fierce. This was Hou Zhan, the Eloquent Monkey. Born in the slums of the southern isles, he had learned to fight before he could write his name. His fists were stronger than iron, his reflexes faster than thought — and his mouth never ceased moving.
"You princes and scholars take too long! I thought Lithness meant speed!""Lithness," Feng Lianyu said, snapping his fan open, "means grace, not brute galloping.""Grace doesn't win fights," Hou Zhan grinned."Neither does stupidity," Feng Lianyu replied smoothly.
Before Hou Zhan could answer, a calm voice joined them.
"Both grace and strength are empty without balance."
A tall man walked up the slope, carrying a spear wrapped in white cloth. His steps were measured, his expression unreadable.He was Jing Ge, nicknamed Mr. Gingge, wielder of the Luminous Moon Spear. A soldier's son who had served as a general before turning twenty, Jing Ge carried the quiet authority of command. The air around him hummed faintly — the mark of someone whose spirit had merged with his weapon.
The Remaining Three
From the far end of the trail, a soft click of metal echoed — rhythmic, almost playful. A figure appeared spinning a black umbrella with lazy ease. His robe was stitched with hidden seams, and a faint gleam of steel glimmered at his cuffs.
Wei Shuren, the Umbrella Maniac, master of hidden weapons. No one ever knew how many blades, darts, or strings were concealed within his gear — nor did anyone want to find out. He smiled as he joined them.
"You all make too much noise. Even the crows stopped listening."
Behind him followed Chen Jianwang, The Blade King. His hair was short, his eyes proud, his Dustless Blade resting casually against his shoulder. Every breath he took seemed to carve the air. His was the aura of unyielding power — a man who met the world head-on and refused to step aside for Heaven or Hell alike.
And last came Yue Liuyun, the eldest, serene as dawn. His robe was the color of mist, his Wujie Staff balanced lightly in one hand. Every tap of the staff left a ring in the air that faded like ripples on a pond. Though he seldom spoke, the others unconsciously followed his pace.
Together they formed a circle of energy that made the mountain tremble.
Seven prodigies — each unmatched in skill, each carrying an art of their own — reunited after three years apart.
The Master Appears
The mist parted. Grandmaster Tian Xu rose slowly from where he sat. His gaze swept over them with quiet pride.
"When I first took you in," he said, voice deep and steady, "you were reckless youths who believed strength was born from defiance. Now I see warriors who have touched the heart of stillness."
The seven knelt as one.
"Master," they said together, "we have returned."
He nodded.
"Rise, my children. The world may call you prodigies, but before me you are students still."
A faint smile tugged his lips.
"Tell me, what have you learned in your wanderings?"
Li Wuxin stepped forward first.
"Discipline without compassion turns men into blades, Master. I seek to wield power that protects, not destroys."
Feng Lianyu's fan snapped shut.
"I learned that elegance is not weakness. True refinement is power restrained."
Hou Zhan cracked his knuckles.
"I learned that fists can't solve everything — but they sure help."
Laughter rippled through the group. Even Tian Xu's mouth twitched.
Jing Ge bowed slightly.
"I learned that leading others requires stillness in oneself. A restless heart commands no loyalty."
Wei Shuren tossed his umbrella lightly.
"I learned silence hides strength — and that sometimes, a shadow saves more lives than a sword."
Chen Jianwang crossed his arms.
"I learned that the sharpest blade dulls without purpose. Strength needs meaning."
Finally, Yue Liuyun spoke, his tone soft as wind.
"I learned that all motion returns to stillness. Every strike, every breath — all flows back to the heart."
Tian Xu's eyes shone.
"Good. Each of you has found the essence of Lithness. Remember this well: Lithness is not evasion — it is understanding. When you yield, you see. When you see, you overcome."
The Feast of Brotherhood
Night fell. In the small wooden hall atop the mountain, the seven gathered around a simple fire. The meal was humble — rice, wild vegetables, mountain herbs — yet laughter filled the air louder than any banquet in the capital.
Hou Zhan raised his bowl.
"To the Master who made us suffer through a thousand bruises!"
Feng Lianyu smirked.
"And to the idiot who counted each one."
"Ha! You remember because you cried louder than me!"
"I was refining my breathing technique, not crying."
The others laughed. Even Li Wuxin's calm mask cracked as he smiled. The warmth of companionship burned brighter than the fire. They were no longer just students — they were brothers in all but blood.
Jing Ge leaned against a pillar, looking at them quietly.
"It feels strange, doesn't it? Years apart, and yet when we meet, it's as though time never moved."
Yue Liuyun nodded.
"Because bonds forged through hardship are not broken by distance."
Chen Jianwang exhaled deeply.
"Someday we'll descend the mountain again. I hope we'll still laugh like this when the world knows our names."
Tian Xu entered then, carrying a jar of aged wine. The prodigies scrambled to their feet, but he waved them down.
"Sit. Even masters drink on nights like these."
He poured seven cups and raised his own.
"You are my life's legacy. When I am gone, let your unity be your shield. The world will test you — not through betrayal, but through burden. Promise me you will stand together."
Seven cups lifted. Seven voices answered as one.
"We swear it, Master."
Outside, the wind howled through the peaks, carrying their vow to the heavens.
The Silent Morning
Dawn crept over Mount Wujie in waves of gold. The seven stood at the cliff's edge, watching the clouds burn in sunlight. Below them stretched the vast lands of the Li Empire — mountains, rivers, and cities that shimmered like stars.
Li Wuxin turned to his brothers.
"The Emperor will summon us soon. The world stirs. Are we ready?"
Feng Lianyu's fan snapped open.
"Readiness is an illusion. We move when destiny commands."
Hou Zhan grinned.
"Destiny can wait till I finish breakfast."
Wei Shuren laughed softly.
"You'll need more than breakfast when the sects start moving again."
Yue Liuyun looked eastward.
"Whatever awaits us, we face it together."
Tian Xu approached behind them, the wind parting gently at his steps.
"Then the heavens themselves shall take heed," he said."For the world has not seen such unity in an age. Remember, my students — Lithness is the art of harmony. When one moves, all seven shall move. When one falls, all shall rise."
The sun rose higher, casting seven long shadows that merged into one.
From that day forward, the martial world would remember them —The Seven Formidable Youths, disciples of Tian Xu, heirs of Lithness.Seven hearts, one will.Unbreakable.