《Freedom's Fool》


 Prologue

    In the heart of the martial world, where mountains pierced the heavens and rivers flowed like silver threads across the earth, there existed an order as unshakable as stone.


    The 10 Great Orthodox Sects¡ªrighteous in name but ruthless in practice held dominion over all things beneath the sky. They preached harmony while sowing discord, enforced justice with chains hidden beneath silk. Their banners raised proudly from their fortresses, each a symbol of power carved into mountaintops or raised from stretched plains. To defy them was to defy the heavens themselves.


    Yet, among their countless vassals and pawns, whispers of rebellion lingered¡ªfaint, like the wind before a storm.


    The small village of Blackstone lay at the base of Mount Qingcheng. To the Qingcheng Sect, it was a dot on the map, insignificant except for the resources it yielded and the oaths it upheld. Here, in homes of crass wood and fields scarred by centuries of labor, life was not lived, it was endured.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The people worked, their backs bent beneath invisible chains: tribute to be paid, quotas to be met, honor to be preserved. These chains were forged not of iron but of fear, tradition, and the ever looming shadow of the Qingcheng Sect...the village''s distant master.


    Among these people was a boy who could not kneel.


    He was not yet a man, not yet a warrior, but the fire within him refused to burn quietly. While the others bowed their heads and spoke of fate, Hei Tianmo spoke of freedom. While they whispered warnings of storms to come, he longed to dance in the rain.


    This is not the story of a hero. Heroes abide by rules; they uphold order. Tianmo would do neither. This is the story of a fool¡ªone who would challenge the world''s great foundations and shatter its ancient chains, not out of righteousness but for freedom.


    For freedom''s sake, he would embrace chaos.


    And the wind that began as a breeze would soon become a storm.

 Travelers Guide to Jianghu - Prologue

    Traveler''s Guide to Jianghu: Prologue


    Title: Prologue


    Hey there, wanderer. You¡¯ve found your way to the beginning of this tale. That¡¯s good¡ªbecause what¡¯s ahead is a story that¡¯ll make you laugh, cry, and probably question the sanity of anyone foolish enough to challenge the heavens themselves. Spoiler alert: that fool is me.


    Let¡¯s take it step by step, shall we?


    <hr>


    Key Details and Context


    <h4>Blackstone Village:</h4>


    Let¡¯s not sugarcoat it. Blackstone isn¡¯t exactly a paradise. Imagine a tiny speck of dirt clinging to the foot of a mountain, where people work themselves to the bone to satisfy their overlords. The Qingcheng Sect owns this place, the same way a farmer owns a plot of land. And us? We¡¯re nothing more than crops to be harvested.


    Everyone knows their role: keep your head down, meet your quotas, and don¡¯t cause trouble. But for me? Something about spending my entire life on my knees just didn¡¯t sit right. Call it stubbornness, call it stupidity, call it whatever you like¡ªI was born to stand tall.


    <hr>


    Expanded Context for the Martial World


    <h4>The 10 Great Orthodox Sects:</h4>


    Surely you¡¯ve heard of them, the so-called guardians of harmony and order. These are the names people speak with awe or, more often than not, fear. They¡¯ve got grand banners, towering temples, and disciples who can shatter mountains with a single sword stroke.


    But don¡¯t let their talk of righteousness fool you. Their hands are dirtier than a beggar¡¯s rags.


    Take the Qingcheng Sect, for example. Their philosophy? Precision and subtlety, like a breeze weaving through the forest. Sounds poetic, doesn¡¯t it? Now picture that same breeze slitting your throat while you¡¯re fast asleep.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    <hr>


    <h4>The Weight of Tribute:</h4>


    Tribute. Such a fancy way of saying, ¡°Pay up, or else.¡± Every season, the village gathers whatever the Sect demands¡ªbe it crops, silk, or something else and hands it over with a forced smile. It¡¯s a performance, really. You bow, they take, and everyone pretends this is just the way things are.


    But just because something¡¯s normal doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s right.


    <hr>


    Glossary


    <ul>


    <li>


    Sect (ÃÅÅÉ M¨¦n P¨¤i):


    A group of martial artists who function like kingdoms without thrones. They govern their territories, enforce their rules, and hold the power of life and death over those in their domain.


    </li>


    <li>


    Tribute (¹±Æ· G¨°ng P¨«n):


    The price of living under a Sect¡¯s so-called ¡°protection.¡± Fail to deliver, and you¡¯d better either have an army or a death wish.


    </li>


    <li>


    Freedom (×ÔÓÉ Z¨¬ Y¨®u):


    The thing I keep chasing. The thing they keep taking away. Simple as that.


    </li>


    </ul>


    <hr>


    Pronunciation Guide:


    <ul>


    <li>Hei Tianmo: Hay Tee-an-moh</li>


    <li>Qingcheng Sect: Ching-cheng Pai</li>


    <li>Mount Qingcheng: Ching-cheng Shan</li>


    <li>Blackstone Village: Pretty self-explanatory¡ªunless you¡¯ve been sampling too many Qi-infused mushrooms.</li>


    </ul>


    <hr>


    Mini Character Stat Sheet


    <ul>


    <li>Hei Tianmo (ºÚÌìħ):


    <ul>


    <li>Age: 12</li>


    <li>Realm: Third-Rate Warrior (barely).</li>


    <li>Personality: Reckless, stubborn, and probably a bit too sarcastic for his own good.</li>


    <li>Quirk: Always has something to say¡ªeven when he¡¯d be better off keeping quiet.</li>


    </ul>


    </li>


    </ul>


    Pro Tip:


    Never trust a Sect, no matter how polished their robes or noble their words may seem. They¡¯ll smile at you while sharpening the knife meant for your back.


    ¡ªHei Tianmo, Fool Extraordinaire

 Chapter 1: Mischief and Chains

    <hr>


    BLACKSTONE ARC


    <hr>


    The village of Blackstone clung to the base of Mount Qingcheng like a forgotten shadow, its weathered homes huddled together as though seeking solace from the mountain''s looming presence. The rooftops sagged, moss crept up their stone walls like the weary hands of time itself. Narrow dirt paths wove between the dwellings, their uneven grooves carved by countless trudging feet¡ªa silent testimony to a life spent enduring rather than living.


    Overhead, the sky hung heavy with gray clouds, the promise of rain dulling the faint rays of sunlight that dared to reach the earth. The air smelled of damp soil and ash, carrying a chill that bit into the villagers¡¯ skin as they moved about their work. A boy stumbled under the weight of a burlap sack brimming with grain, his thin arms trembling as he struggled to balance the load.


    An elder, her back stooped and hands calloused from decades of toil, wordlessly stepped forward to adjust the boy''s burden. Her gnarled fingers moved deftly, but her lips remained pressed in a thin line, offering neither comfort nor complaint. Around them, other villagers worked in silence, their movements mechanical, their faces marked with reluctant acceptance.


    At the heart of the square, a faded banner bearing the emblem of the Qingcheng Sect flapped weakly in the wind. Its once proud colors were muted, threads unraveling like the spirit of the people it ruled over. The banner¡¯s presence was a silent reminder of the mountain''s dominion, the weight of its authority pressing down on every head that dared to lift itself too high.


    From behind a stack of firewood near the village''s communal hall, a young boy crouched, his black eyes taking in the scene. Hei Tianmo¡¯s lips curled into a faint sneer as he watched the villagers toil. Their silent submission gnawed at something deep inside him, stirring a frustration he didn¡¯t yet have the words to name.


    "Is this what life is here?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the distant sound of a hammer striking wood. "To struggle in silence while the mountain takes everything?"


    His gaze shifted to the hall, where the muffled voices of the Hei Clan elders filtered out into the damp air. He crept closer, his footsteps light and precise, as if the very earth conspired to keep his presence a secret.


    All they ever do is talk.


    His heart pounding with equal parts frustration and anticipation.


    Just once, I want to see someone fight back.


    The shadow of the mountain loomed over him, indifferent yet suffocating. And yet, deep within him, something stirred¡ªa storm of rebellion waiting to be unleashed.


    The voices of the elders seeped through the thin walls, low and tense, a familiar cadence of worry laced with resignation.


    ¡°The Sect is demanding more again,¡± Elder Ping muttered, his fingers kneading his temples as if trying to massage away the stress of the problem. ¡°We¡¯ve already emptied the stores. How are we supposed to meet their demands and survive the winter?¡±


    Elder Guang, his scowl permanently etched into his weathered face, crossed his arms tightly. "And what do you suggest? Shall we refuse and invite the Sect¡¯s wrath? Perhaps you¡¯d like to explain our ¡®shortcomings¡¯ to their emissaries when they come to collect."


    From outside, Tianmo¡¯s grin widened as he pressed himself closer to the cool wooden wall of the hall, crouching low to stay hidden. Mischievous energy buzzed beneath his skin, but something about their words made his chest tighten. His fingers brushed the small pouch tied to his waist.


    "Refuse?" Ping¡¯s hand slammed on the table, rattling the teapot. "Don¡¯t twist my words, Guang. I¡¯m saying we can¡¯t keep this up! Every season, it¡¯s more demands and fewer resources to meet them."


    Elder Ren, the quietest of the group, finally spoke, his voice a dry rasp. "Perhaps we should petition for leniency. A letter explaining the situation. It¡¯s possible they¡¯ll¡ª"


    "Petition?!" Guang interrupted, his voice rising sharply. "And admit our weakness? The Sect doesn¡¯t grant mercy! They exploit it! You want to send them a letter, Ren? Might as well write our own death warrants while you¡¯re at it."


    Ren frowned but didn¡¯t argue. The tension in the room thickened as the elders lapsed into silence, their eyes drifting toward the empty chair at the corner, the one that had once belonged to Hei Fang.


    Ping¡¯s voice softened, the weight of loss creeping into his tone. "If only Fang were still with us... he might have found a way."


    Tianmo¡¯s heart clenched at the mention of his father. The village spoke of him like a ghost, a cautionary tale of failure. To Tianmo, he was none of those things.


    They¡¯re just as scared as everyone else. Cowards.


    His gaze darted toward the steaming teapot sitting on the low table inside the hall, its spout curling upward like an open invitation. A wide smile stretched across his face as an idea sparked. Slipping around the side of the building, he moved like a shadow, his small frame disappearing into the back kitchen.


    From his pouch, Tianmo pulled out a handful of pepper seeds, the sharp, pungent scent already teasing his nose. ¡°A little spice to warm their bones,¡± he muttered to himself, stifling a chuckle. Moving quickly, he sprinkled the seeds into the teapot and gave it a few deliberate stirs with a wooden spoon.


    Satisfied, he crept back to his hiding spot behind the woodpile, crouching low as he peered through a crack, his eyes watching the scene unfold.


    Inside, the elders continued their debate.


    Ping shook his head, his voice tinged with desperation. "I¡¯m telling you, we¡¯re at our limit. We can¡¯t squeeze blood from a stone. If we keep this up, the village will collapse under the weight of these demands."This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "And what would you have us do?" Guang snapped, his voice like flint against steel. "Challenge the Sect? March up to their gates and demand better treatment? You think they¡¯ll be moved by our pleas?"


    Ping sighed, his hand waving dismissively. "Enough, Guang. Let¡¯s not tear at each other. Drink some tea and clear your head. We¡¯ll need our wits about us to face this."


    The elders murmured their agreement, each reaching for their cup.


    Tianmo bit down on his knuckles, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as Ping took the first sip. The elder froze mid-swallow, his eyes widening as he clutched his throat.


    "What in the heavens¡ª?" Ping croaked, his voice strangled.


    Guang, halfway through his own sip, let out a bellowing cough, spraying tea across the table. "Poison! It¡¯s poison!" he roared, stumbling back from his seat and clutching his chest.


    Ren sniffed his cup cautiously, his lips twitching. "No... not poison. It¡¯s... spicy." He took another tentative sip, his face contorting in discomfort. "Who would put this in tea?!"


    Ping¡¯s face turned bright red as he fanned his mouth, gasping. "It¡¯s fire¡ªit¡¯s burning my soul! My tongue is going to fall off!"


    Guang slammed his cup onto the table, his voice cracking with panic. "The Sect has sent assassins! They¡¯re testing our resolve with¡ªargh, my throat!"


    The chaos erupted further as Ping stumbled to the water jug, gulping it down in one breath. Guang flailed about, fanning his mouth with both hands, while Ren sat quietly, his grimace deepening with each cautious sip of the tea.


    From behind the firewood, Tianmo doubled over, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the elders sputter and flounder like fish out of water.


    This is better than I could¡¯ve imagined!


    But just as he was about to shift to a more comfortable crouch, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.


    He froze, his heart sinking as a familiar voice cut through the chaos.


    "Hei Tianmo."


    He turned slowly, his grin faltering as he met his mother¡¯s sharp gaze. Hei Meili¡¯s arms were crossed, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.


    "How many times do I have to tell you," she said, her tone low and dangerous, "you can¡¯t keep causing trouble like this."


    Tianmo gulped, his mischievous grin reappearing, a bit weaker. "Must¡¯ve been the wind," he said innocently.


    Meili raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. "Oh, really? And does the wind carry pepper seeds in its pockets?"


    "Maybe it does," Tianmo said, shrugging. "Nature¡¯s full of surprises."


    <hr>


    Tianmo winced as Meili¡¯s firm grip on his ear steered him through the misty paths of Blackstone Village. ¡°Ow, ow, ow, Ma not so hard!¡± he yelped, his voice rising above the distant screams of the elders, which faded into the steady patter of rain against the rooftops.


    ¡°You think this is funny, don¡¯t you?¡± Meili said, her tone a mix of frustration and weariness, her grip finally easing.


    Tianmo rubbed the back of his head as soon as she released him, his grin returning despite himself. ¡°It was a little funny,¡± he muttered with a sheepish chuckle, trying to gauge if her expression would soften.


    Meili stopped abruptly, turning to face him. Her gaze pierced through him, though the corners of her mouth twitched, betraying a flicker of amusement. "You think making fools out of the elders helps anyone?"


    "I didn¡¯t hurt them," Tianmo protested, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Just woke them up a bit. They need it."


    Meili sighed, shaking her head. She continued walking, her steps slower this time. Tianmo trailed behind her, his eyes catching the faint slump in her shoulders.


    For the first time that day, the burden of his mischief pressed against his chest. He had been so caught up in the thrill of his prank that he hadn¡¯t thought about what it might cost her.


    She works so hard. All I do is cause trouble. Is this really helping her?


    His gaze dropped to the muddy path beneath his feet.


    They reached their modest home, its worn wooden walls streaked with rain. The faint glow of an oil lamp shone through the small window, casting long shadows onto the damp ground. Meili stepped inside, her movements tired yet precise, and began lighting the hearth.


    Tianmo lingered in the doorway, his fingers tightening on the frame. "I¡¯m sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.


    Meili glanced over her shoulder, her expression softening. "Come inside," she said gently, brushing damp hair from her face. "You¡¯ll catch a chill standing there."


    Tianmo hesitated before stepping in, the warmth of the fire enveloping him. He watched as Meili moved to the kitchen, her hands steady as she began slicing a radish. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filled the small room, a soothing counterpoint to the rain outside.


    "You¡¯re always sorry after the fact," Meili said, her tone lighter now. "But trouble follows you like a shadow, Momo."


    Tianmo plopped onto the wooden floor, resting his chin on his hands. "It¡¯s not like I do it on purpose," he said, his grin faint. "Well, most of the time."


    Meili smirked, shaking her head. "Most of the time, he says." She added the radish slices to a pot of thin rice porridge bubbling over the fire.


    The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional pop of the fire and the patter of rain against the roof. Tianmo watched her work, the quiet rhythm of her movements strangely comforting.


    "Teach me how to do that," he said suddenly.


    Meili raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. "Do what?"


    "Turn scraps into something good," Tianmo said, gesturing to the pot. "You¡¯re like a magician, Ma. You take nothing and make it taste better than anything the elders eat."


    Her smirk returned, tinged with amusement. "Flattery will get you nowhere. You¡¯ve tried this trick before."


    "But it¡¯s true!" Tianmo pressed, "Teach me. I want to learn how to make something out of nothing. Maybe I''ll become a famous chef."


    "You mean a famous pest," Meili quipped, turning back to the pot. "You''d just turn the kitchen into a mess!"


    Tianmo sat up straighter, puffing out his chest. "A mess could be¡ªdelicious?"


    Meili rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. "I could also turn you into food if you keep pestering me."


    "See? A magician," Tianmo said, his grin widening.


    Meili turned back to the pot, stirring slowly. "You already know how, Momo," she said quietly. "It¡¯s what you do every day, turning trouble into laughter."


    Tianmo blinked, surprised by her words. "That¡¯s... not the same."


    "No," Meili agreed, her voice soft. "But it¡¯s a start."


    Dinner was simple¡ªtwo bowls of porridge, the faint aroma of radish filling the room. Tianmo frowned when he saw Meili¡¯s portion, smaller than his own.


    "Why do you always do that?" he asked, his voice sharper than he intended.


    Meili looked up, her expression calm. "Do what?"


    "Take the smaller portion," Tianmo said, his grip tightening around his bowl. "You think I don¡¯t notice, but I do. It¡¯s not fair."


    Meili looked up, her expression calm but her eyes shadowed with fatigue. "Because you¡¯re my son," she said simply, brushing damp hair from her forehead. Her smile was faint, almost wistful, as she adjusted her bowl with hands that had long since forgotten rest. "Because I¡¯d rather see you grow strong than go hungry."


    Tianmo stared at her for a long moment, guilt and frustration warring within him. "I¡¯ll get stronger," he said finally, his voice firm. "Strong enough to protect you, Ma. Strong enough to make them pay."


    Meili reached across the table, resting a hand on his. "Strength isn¡¯t all about fighting, Tianmo," she said softly. "It¡¯s about knowing when to stand tall and when to bend¡ªlike bamboo in a storm."


    Tianmo frowned, her words sinking in even as his heart rebelled against them. "I still want to learn," he said, his voice quieter now. "How to survive. How to protect what matters."


    Meili¡¯s smile widened, tinged with both pride and sadness. "One step at a time, my clever Momo," she said. "For now, eat while the storm sings for us."


    The rain outside intensified, its rhythm a wild percussion against the roof. But inside their small home, the warmth of the fire and the quiet bond between mother and son created a fragile peace.

 Traveler鈥檚 Guide to Jianghu: Chapter 1

    Title: Mischief and Chains


    Hey, wanderer. You¡¯ve made it to where the story really kicks off. Welcome to Blackstone Village, where the chains are heavy, the elders are cranky, and I make it my mission to stir the pot. Figuratively and literally.


    Let¡¯s dig into the trouble, shall we?


    <hr>


    Key Details and Context


    ¡°Bamboo in a Storm¡±:


    Bamboo is a big deal in Chinese culture. It¡¯s a symbol of resilience. The ability to bend without breaking and enduring hardship with grace. My Ma likes to remind me of this every time I pull one of my ¡°harebrained schemes.¡± She says true strength isn¡¯t just about standing tall¡ªit¡¯s knowing when to bow to survive.


    I get it, I really do. But sometimes bending looks too much like bowing. And me? I don¡¯t bow. Not to the mountain, not to the Sect, not to anyone.


    The Role of Elders:


    Elders are supposed to be the backbone of the village, the ones with wisdom, authority, and moral influence. But in Blackstone, the Sect¡¯s shadow has turned them into prisoners of their own fear.


    Elder Ping: Frets.


    Elder Guang: Fumes.


    Elder Ren: Mutters proverbs like spells to make problems disappear.


    None of them can decide whether to fight, flee, or keep bowing. That¡¯s where I come in, stirring the pot with a handful of pepper seeds.


    Sichuan Spices and Mischief:


    Speaking of pepper seeds, did you know Sichuan¡¯s famous for its spicy food? The stuff¡¯ll set your tongue on fire. So really, my prank was just me paying homage to local flavor¡ªby spicing up a dull meeting. Watching the elders sputter and panic? Worth every second.


    Villagers and the Sect:


    Here¡¯s the thing about life under a Sect: it¡¯s all about knowing your place. The Qingcheng Sect rules over Blackstone like a mountain casts its shadow. Everyone here works to meet their demands, hoping the next tribute will keep their swords sheathed.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    For most people, survival means enduring in silence. For me, it means kicking up some dust.


    Hei Clan and Family Bonds:


    The Hei Clan is my family, and in Jianghu, your clan is everything. Your name carries your history, your reputation, and your obligations.


    Here in Blackstone, though, the Hei Clan¡¯s legacy feels more like a weight than a badge of honor. My Ma carries our family with grace, even when I make her life harder. She doesn¡¯t say it, but I see the way her shoulders slump after a long day. That¡¯s why one day, I¡¯ll be strong enough to carry her burdens instead of adding to them.


    <hr>


    Glossary


    ¡°Bamboo in a Storm¡± (·çÖÐÖñ F¨¥ng Zh¨­ng Zh¨²):


    A common metaphor in Chinese culture, symbolizing resilience, humility, and adaptability. Bamboo bends under pressure but doesn¡¯t break¡ªa lesson my Ma keeps trying to teach me.


    Elder (³¤ÀÏ Zh¨£ng L¨£o):


    A title of respect and authority for those who lead and guide the community. In Blackstone, the elders govern decisions, though fear of the Sect limits their actions.


    Ma (ÂèÂè M¨¡):


    A casual, affectionate term for one¡¯s mother in Chinese. When I call Meili ¡°Ma,¡± it¡¯s my way of showing both respect and closeness.


    Hei Clan (ºÚÊÏ H¨¥i Sh¨¬):


    The family name ¡°Hei¡± means ¡°black¡± in Mandarin. Clans like ours form the backbone of villages, symbolizing shared heritage and identity.


    Sichuan Spices:


    Sichuan (where Mount Qingcheng is located) is famous for its spicy cuisine, often using chili peppers and peppercorns. My prank with pepper seeds? Call it culturally inspired.


    <hr>


    Pronunciation Guide


    Bamboo in a Storm (·çÖÐÖñ F¨¥ng Zh¨­ng Zh¨²): Fung Jong Joo


    Ma (ÂèÂè M¨¡): Mah


    Hei Meili (ºÚÃÀÀö): Hay May-lee


    Elder Ping (ƽ³¤ÀÏ): Ping Zhang-lao


    Elder Guang (¹ã³¤ÀÏ): Gwahng Zhang-lao


    Elder Ren (Èγ¤ÀÏ): R¨¨n Zhang-lao


    Hei Clan (ºÚÊÏ): Hay Shuh


    <hr>


    Mini Character Stat Sheets


    Hei Meili (ºÚÃÀÀö):


    Age: Early 30s


    Realm: Non-cultivation


    Personality: Kind, resilient, and pragmatic with an undercurrent of quiet strength.


    Appearance: Delicate features, tied-back black hair, hands calloused from years of hard work.


    Quirk: Often hums softly while cooking or tending to chores, even during moments of stress.


    Elder Ping (ƽ³¤ÀÏ P¨ªng Zh¨£ng L¨£o):


    Age: 62


    Realm: First-Rate Warrior


    Personality: Anxious, pragmatic, and a chronic overthinker who cares deeply for the village¡¯s survival.


    Appearance: Stooped posture, wispy white beard, furrowed brows etched with years of worry.


    Quirk: Always rubbing his temples when stressed (which is all the time).


    Elder Guang (¹ã³¤ÀÏ Gu¨£ng Zh¨£ng L¨£o):


    Age: 65


    Realm: First-Rate Warrior


    Personality: Stern, quick-tempered, and fiercely protective of tradition.


    Appearance: Stocky build, scarred cheek, perpetually furrowed brows.


    Quirk: Speaks in short, clipped sentences, especially when annoyed.


    Elder Ren (Èγ¤ÀÏ R¨¨n Zh¨£ng L¨£o):


    Age: 68


    Realm: First-Rate Warrior


    Personality: Reserved and deliberate, a quiet voice of reason among the elders.


    Appearance: Gaunt frame, long white hair tied back, sharp eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles.


    Quirk: Tends to mutter philosophical proverbs, often out of context.


    <hr>


    Pro Tip:


    Sometimes, survival means bending like bamboo. But when bending turns into bowing? That¡¯s when you¡¯ve got to decide if you¡¯re ready to become the storm instead.


    ¡ªTianmo, Pepper Seed Connoisseur

 Chapter 2: Light in the Wild

    The fragile peace inside the small home didn¡¯t last long.


    Outside, the rain that had once drummed a steady rhythm against the roof had unraveled into a feral storm. Wind tore through the village, shaking loose shutters and sending debris tumbling down the muddy streets. Lightning slashed scars across the blackened sky, each flash illuminating the towering silhouette of Mount Qingcheng in stark, fleeting brilliance. The mountain loomed like an unfeeling sentinel, its presence cold and indifferent to the chaos below.


    Tianmo lay restless on his thin straw mat, the storm¡¯s fury echoing the turmoil in his chest. His mother¡¯s words lingered, twisting in his mind and colliding with the bitter memory of his father and the suffocating grip of the Qingcheng Sect.


    "Strength isn¡¯t all about fighting. It¡¯s about knowing when to stand tall and when to bend."


    But bending felt like breaking.


    Suddenly, Tianmo sat up, his body silhouetted against the faint glow of the dying embers in the hearth. His fists clenched tightly at his sides as frustration clawed at him, raw and unrelenting. He couldn¡¯t take it anymore.


    Quietly, he slipped out of bed, wrapping himself in a threadbare cloak to shield against the storm¡¯s bite. He padded softly to the door, his footsteps careful not to wake Meili. For a moment, he lingered, gazing at her sleeping face. Even in rest, her features were etched with weariness, lines carved by years of hardship.


    ¡°I¡¯ll protect you,¡± he whispered, his voice nearly drowned by the roar of the storm. Then, without another word, he stepped outside.


    The storm greeted him like an adversary. A gust of icy wind slapped him, plastering his hair to his face as rain lashed against him, sharp and unrelenting. In seconds, his cloak was soaked through, heavy and useless, but he didn¡¯t stop. There was something about the storm¡¯s wildness that spoke to him, pulling him forward with an almost magnetic force.


    He made his way to the training grounds, the clearing where wooden posts stood like pillars, their surfaces worn smooth by years of strikes. The ground beneath his feet was a slurry of mud, but Tianmo hardly noticed as he approached the tallest post, rain streaming down its slick surface.


    He planted his feet firmly in the soaked earth and swung his fist. The impact jolted up his arm, the unyielding wood refusing to give an inch. He struck again, harder this time. Then again. Each blow was sharper, more desperate than the last.


    ¡°Why do they kneel?!¡± he shouted, his voice raw and strained against the howling wind. ¡°Why does everyone just bow their heads and let them take everything?!¡±


    His fists moved faster, rain and sweat mingling on his face as he pounded the post with all the frustration bottled inside him. ¡°They took my father! They took everything! And all anyone does is talk!¡±


    The wooden post bit back, the sting of every strike sending pain shooting through his battered knuckles. His hands ached, the skin raw and split, but he refused to stop. Tears blurred his vision, though the relentless rain disguised them.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t I be stronger?!¡± he choked out, his voice breaking. ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I strong enough to stop it?!¡±


    His punches slowed as exhaustion overtook him, each strike weaker than the last. His arms trembled, his breath came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, his knees buckled.


    The storm roared around him, the wind screaming through the trees like a chorus of unseen voices. Then, with a flash so bright it seared the darkness, lightning split the sky. The deafening crack of thunder followed, shaking the ground beneath his feet and leaving the air charged with an electric hum.


    Tianmo froze, his chest heaving, his body soaked and trembling. He stared at the training post, his breath catching in his throat. The hum wasn¡¯t just in the air¡ªit was inside him. A strange warmth spread through his chest, coursing down his arms and into his fingers, pulsing like the faint rhythm of a heartbeat.


    ¡°What... is this?¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm. His trembling hand reached out, brushing the rain-slick surface of the post. The warmth pulsed again, stronger this time, and he staggered back, breathless.


    The storm seemed to hold its breath for a single heartbeat before resuming its relentless fury. The warmth inside him faded, but it left something behind¡ªa spark. Small, faint, but unyielding.


    Eventually the storm had passed, leaving Blackstone Village drenched and battered in its wake.


    Tianmo stood alone in the clearing, his bruised and bloodied fists hanging limp at his sides as the first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon. The once violent winds had softened to a low, mournful sigh, and the rain fell in a steady drizzle, blanketing the village in a shimmering gray veil of rainwater.


    His knuckles throbbed, streaked with mud and faint traces of blood. But despite the ache, there was a quiet spark of triumph in his chest¡ªa warmth that refused to be extinguished.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get stronger,¡± he whispered, his voice barely carried by the cool morning breeze.


    He turned back toward the village, his soaked cloak clinging to his body like a second skin. Slipping into the house as quietly as possible, he shut the door behind him with care. Grabbing a threadbare rag from the counter, he began furiously scrubbing at his hair and clothes, water scattering across the wooden floor.


    ¡°Come on, dry already,¡± he muttered, scowling as the damp cloth seemed to do more smearing than drying.


    Then came the sound he dreaded¡ªa sharp creak of the floorboards behind him.


    ¡°Tianmo!¡±


    His mother¡¯s voice cut through the air like a whip, freezing him mid-scrub. He spun around, clutching the wet rag to his chest as though it could shield him.


    Meili¡¯s sharp gaze swept over him, taking in his raw knuckles, mud-smeared hands, and the water dripping from his shivering frame. For a moment, her expression softened, concern flickering in her eyes. But then her brow tightened, and her tone turned stern.


    ¡°Look at you,¡± she said tightly. ¡°What were you doing out in the storm?¡±


    Tianmo mustered his most innocent grin, though it came out looking more mischievous than sincere. ¡°Uh¡­ practicing my martial arts?¡±


    ¡°Practicing,¡± Meili repeated, her voice flat as she crossed her arms and took a slow, deliberate step closer. ¡°In a storm that could¡¯ve sent you flying halfway up the mountain?¡±


    ¡°Strengthening my focus!¡± he declared, puffing out his chest with mock seriousness. ¡°You know, like the elders say¡ª¡®the harshest conditions forge the strongest warriors!¡¯¡±


    Meili pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, exasperated sigh. ¡°And the foolish ones end up bedridden with a fever. Dry yourself properly before I decide to test your ¡®focus¡¯ myself.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma!¡± Tianmo chirped, darting toward the door to wring out his cloak.


    ¡°And don¡¯t think you¡¯re skipping breakfast!¡± she called after him.


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dream of it!¡± he shouted back, disappearing into the soft drizzle outside.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The storm had left its scars on Blackstone Village. The narrow, muddy paths were crisscrossed with deep grooves, broken branches lay scattered everywhere, and sagging rooftops strained beneath the weight of waterlogged straw. Smoke curled from chimneys, tendrils of warmth rising into the pale gray morning sky.


    Villagers moved with quiet determination, patching walls, clearing debris, and wringing out soaked linens. Their faces, lined with weariness, carried the stoic resolve of those who had weathered far too many storms. But here and there, laughter broke through the gloom¡ªchildren splashing in puddles, their giggles a rare melody in the dreary morning.


    Tianmo strolled through the streets, his soaked cloak finally wrung out, though it still clung to him awkwardly. His thoughts were elsewhere, the faint hum of energy he¡¯d felt the night before, dancing at the edges of his awareness. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his chest, unsure whether it had been real or just a strange trick of the storm.


    But something pulled him from his thoughts as he passed the training grounds. His sharp eyes caught sight of the tallest wooden post, its rain-slick surface marred by a jagged crack running down its side.


    Frowning, Tianmo approached, reaching out to touch the wood. His fingers traced the splintered edges, and a faint scent of ozone lingered in the damp air.


    ¡°The storm¡­¡± he murmured, his brow furrowing.


    The hum he¡¯d felt before flickered faintly in his chest again, like an ember catching a stray breeze. His knuckles ached as if remembering the strikes from the night before, the pain sharper now, carrying a strange, pulsing energy.


    He stepped back, unease prickling at the edges of his thoughts. Was it the storm... or was it me?


    For a moment, the clearing felt too quiet. The faint scent of ozone hung in the air like a question without an answer. Tianmo glanced around, half-expecting someone to appear and reprimand him¡ªor worse, confirm the fear taking root in his chest. But the clearing remained empty, and the strange hum faded into the steady rhythm of the soft rain.


    Movement ahead caught his attention.


    In the clearing, Jianyu was struggling to drag a heavy bundle of broken branches toward the edge of the field. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair plastered to his forehead, and he stood ankle deep in a puddle, teetering with every step. At seventeen, Jianyu was one of the Hei Clan¡¯s youngest training advisors¡ªa position he held more out of diligence than natural talent. Though he wasn¡¯t the most graceful fighter, his good natured persistence made him popular among the younger trainees.


    ¡°Hup! Huff¡­ almost there,¡± Jianyu muttered, his face scrunched with effort as the bundle wobbled dangerously in his grip. Despite his best intentions, he often found himself fumbling through the simplest tasks, much to the amusement of the younger boys¡ªand Tianmo especially.


    ¡°Morning, Jianyu!¡± Tianmo called out, his grin widening.


    Startled, Jianyu stumbled and nearly toppled into the mud. ¡°Tianmo!¡± he yelped, his voice cracking as he barely managed to stay upright. ¡°You¡¯re up early.¡±


    ¡°Storm woke me,¡± Tianmo replied, watching as Jianyu wobbled again. A moment later, the entire pile of branches collapsed with a wet thud.


    Jianyu sighed, running a muddy hand through his hair. ¡°It¡¯s harder than it looks,¡± he muttered, glancing toward the village where others were still clearing debris. ¡°Everyone¡¯s busy this morning.¡±


    ¡°Looks like the branches are winning,¡± Tianmo teased, folding his arms with a smile.


    ¡°Tch! You¡¯re not wrong,¡± Jianyu admitted, scratching the back of his head. ¡°If I don¡¯t clear this before the elders come to inspect the grounds, they¡¯ll have me cleaning every corner of the field for a month.¡±


    ¡°Let me help,¡± Tianmo offered, stepping forward.


    Jianyu hesitated, his pride bristling. ¡°I¡¯ve got it. Don¡¯t you have some prank to pull?¡±


    ¡°What, and miss the chance to see you fall on your face again?¡± Tianmo said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°C¡¯mon, if we work together, we¡¯ll finish before the elders show up.¡±


    Jianyu sighed, his shoulders slumping in reluctant defeat. ¡°Fine. But no funny business.¡±


    ¡°Me? Funny?¡± Tianmo grinned as he grabbed a branch. ¡°I¡¯m helpful.¡±


    ¡°Helpful... sure,¡± Jianyu muttered under his breath¡ªjust as his foot caught on a branch, sending him sprawling face first into the mud with a loud splash.


    Tianmo burst into laughter, clutching his sides. "And you said no funny business!¡±


    Jianyu groaned, pushing himself up, mud dripping from his soaked clothes. ¡°It''s not funny!¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s hilarious!¡± Tianmo said, tossing another branch onto the growing pile. He leaned on the sparring post, his grin widening as Jianyu flicked mud off his hands. ¡°You¡¯re lucky no one else saw that.¡±


    Jianyu shook his head, muttering under his breath as he bent to gather another armful of broken branches. ¡°You¡¯re a menace, you know that?¡±


    ¡°A likeable menace,¡± Tianmo replied, darting nimbly around the puddles as he helped organize the scattered debris. His small hands worked quickly, though his mind was already drifting to a different matter.


    ¡°You know,¡± he said casually, watching Jianyu struggle to lift a particularly heavy branch. ¡°I think I¡¯m ready to start learning the clan¡¯s martial arts.¡±


    Jianyu paused, glancing up from his work. ¡°We¡¯ve talked about this, Tianmo. You''re not Qi sensitive.¡±


    ¡°Who needs Qi?¡± Tianmo snorted, dropping a bundle of sticks with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve already outpaced the other kids my age. You¡¯ve seen me. I can keep up!¡±


    Jianyu straightened, brushing the mud from his hands. ¡°Martial arts isn¡¯t just about speed or strength,¡± he said, his voice patient but firm. ¡°It¡¯s about discipline, control. If you rush into it, you¡¯ll hurt yourself¡ªor worse, someone else.¡±


    Tianmo crossed his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing. ¡°Discipline, discipline¡ªeveryone says that! But waiting just makes you weak. My father didn¡¯t wait.¡± His voice dropped, trembling with frustration. ¡°And neither will I.¡±


    Jianyu¡¯s expression softened at the mention of Hei Fang. For a moment, he hesitated, then crouched so they were eye to eye.


    ¡°Your father was strong,¡± Jianyu said gently. ¡°No one doubts that. But strength without control? It¡¯s like a storm, Tianmo. It tears apart everything in its path, even the things it wants to protect.¡±


    Tianmo¡¯s fists clenched at his sides. ¡°I don¡¯t care. I don¡¯t want to wait until someone tells me I¡¯m ready. I am ready.¡±


    Jianyu let out a quiet sigh, the corners of his mouth pulling into a faint, resigned smile. ¡°You¡¯re stubborn, just like him.¡± He ruffled Tianmo¡¯s hair, earning a glare of protest. ¡°One day, you¡¯ll understand. Now go on and get home before your mother comes looking for you."


    Tianmo froze mid-glare. His mind replayed the tone of Meili''s voice from that morning, her narrowed eyes drilling into him as she stood in the doorway. The image of her crossed arms and that you''d-better-not look sent a chill down his spine.


    "Oh no," he gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if Jianyu had struck him with a mortal blow. "You''re right! I''m late! Again! She''s going to kill me! Jianyu, you don''t understand this is serious! I can''t face her wrath twice in one day!"


    Jianyu blinked, startled by the sudden outburst. "Uh... Tianmo?"


    "It''s over for me," Tianmo wailed, dramatically dropping to his knees. "This is how it ends. Not in a glorious battle against some fierce opponent, but as a tragic victim of a mother''s scolding. The ancestors will never forgive me."


    Jianyu burst into laughter, nearly dropping the branch he''d been holding. "Tianmo, you''re unbelievable. Go before you actually make yourself late!"


    Tianmo sprang to his feet, darting toward the path. "Don''t forget me, Jianyu!" he called over his shoulder. "Tell my story to future generations¡ªlet them know I faced death with dignity!"


    <hr>


    By the time he reached the house, the morning sun had pierced through the lingering clouds, painting streaks of gold across the gray village. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the faint sound of chatter mingled with the distant patter of dripping water.


    Tianmo hesitated at the door, his stomach twisting. He could already hear Meili¡¯s voice in his head, sharp with disapproval.


    Pushing the door open slowly, he crept inside, but before he could even close it, her voice stopped him in his tracks.


    ¡°You¡¯re late.¡±


    Meili stood by the stove, her arms crossed, her sharp eyes narrowing at the mud streaking his clothes. "Don''t even try sneaking past me."


    "I wasn''t sneaking," Tianmo said quickly, flashing his most innocent smile. "I was... returning home heroically!"


    Meili raised an eyebrow. "Heroically?"


    "Yep. I saved the training ground," he added, stepping inside as he kicked his muddy sandals off.


    Meili sighed, turning back to the pot on the stove. ¡°Sit down and eat before your ¡®heroic¡¯ deeds starve you.¡±


    Tianmo plopped down at the table, wolfing down his portion like he hadn''t eaten in days. He could feel his mother''s gaze on him, her sharp eyes softening just slightly.


    By the time Tianmo finished the last of his meal, the warmth of the soup had settled in his chest, but his mind remained restless. He could feel Meili¡¯s gaze lingering on him as he scraped the bottom of the bowl with his spoon, the faint sound of the rain outside filling the silence between them.


    ¡°You¡¯re unusually quiet,¡± Meili said softly, placing her own bowl on the table. ¡°What are you scheming now?¡±


    Tianmo glanced up, his sharp eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before darting back to his empty bowl. ¡°Nothing,¡± he muttered, standing abruptly. ¡°Just... thinking.¡±


    ¡°Thinking?¡± Meili tilted her head, her expression unreadable. ¡°That usually leads to trouble with you.¡±


    ¡°Not this time,¡± Tianmo said, forcing a grin as he slid his chair back and grabbed his cloak. ¡°I¡¯m just going back out to clean up the village.¡±


    Meili¡¯s sharp eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯ve already done enough ¡®cleaning up¡¯ for one morning.¡±


    Tianmo shrugged, slipping the damp cloak over his shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. I¡¯ll be back before lunch!¡±


    Before she could protest, he was already halfway out the door, he paused for a moment on the threshold, glancing back at Meili as she shook her head and turned toward the stove.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be late again, Tianmo,¡± she called, her voice soft but firm.


    ¡°I won¡¯t!¡± he shouted back, already jogging toward the edge of the village.


    The damp paths wound between the cottages, still scattered with debris from the storm. Tianmo¡¯s steps quickened as the forest loomed ahead, its dense canopy casting long shadows across the muddy ground.


    The familiar hum of restless energy stirred within him, and his lips curved into a determined grin. Training alone would be better anyway. No one would tell him to wait or hold back.


    No one would stop him from becoming stronger.

 Traveler鈥檚 Guide to Jianghu: Chapter 2

    <div>


    <div>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Title: Light in the Wild


    Hey, wanderer. You ever look a storm in the face and think, Yeah, I can take that? No? Well, you¡¯re probably smarter than me. But where¡¯s the fun in being smart? Ehhhh, you¡¯ll either get soaked or find your spark. Me? I might¡¯ve done both.


    <div>


    Let¡¯s break it down.


    <hr>


    Key Details and Context


    The Storm¡¯s Spark:


    Let¡¯s get one thing straight: I wasn¡¯t running from anything when I went out into that storm. I was running toward something¡ªpower, answers, maybe just a way to stop feeling so small.


    What I didn¡¯t expect? That hum, that flicker of warmth, like something inside me finally waking up. A spark that felt like lightning in my chest. Was it the storm? Was it me? I don¡¯t know yet. What I do know? That spark isn¡¯t going away.


    <hr>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Jianyu¡¯s Wisdom (or Lack Thereof):


    Jianyu¡¯s the guy who tries to teach you patience by tripping over his own feet. He¡¯s one of our clan¡¯s training advisors, which is fancy talk for ¡°the older guy who gives you pointers and tells you to stop trying to punch everything.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    I¡¯ll give him credit, he¡¯s got heart. But sometimes, his ¡°wisdom¡± feels more like a wet blanket than a torch. ¡°Strength without control is dangerous,¡± he says. Sure, Jianyu, but so is not being strong enough when it matters.


    <hr>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Glossary


    Qi Awakening (¾õÆø Ju¨¦ Q¨¬):


    The first step to sensing and connecting with Qi. For most martial artists, this comes through years of meditation, discipline, or sheer desperation.


    <hr>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Pronunciation Guide


    Jianyu (½£Óñ): Jee-an Yoo


    Qi Awakening (¾õÆø): Jweh Chee


    <hr>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Mini Character Stat Sheets


    Jianyu (½£Óñ):


    Age: 17


    Realm: Second-Rate Warrior


    Personality: Diligent and humble, but clumsy under pressure. A patient mentor who puts effort into everything, even when he stumbles.


    Appearance: Lean with slightly tanned skin. His brown hair is tied into a loose, messy bun, with a face that looks like it¡¯s apologizing for something.


    Quirk: Can trip on a flat surface. It¡¯s a skill.


    <hr>


    Pro Tip:


    When someone says, ¡°Wait until you¡¯re ready,¡± what they really mean is, ¡°Stay in line.¡± But if storms waited, they¡¯d never break the sky.


    Be the storm, wanderer. Don¡¯t wait for permission to shake the world.


    ¡ªTianmo, Lightning¡¯s Favorite Fool

 Chapter 3: Threads of Light

    Tianmo stood at the edge of Blackstone, he adjusted the frayed edges of his damp cloak, his eyes lingering on the village. A faint ache twisted in his chest, a pull of something he couldn¡¯t quite name. But the fire burning within him was stronger, drowning out hesitation.


    ¡°I¡¯ll come back stronger,¡± he muttered, his voice low but resolute.


    Turning away, Tianmo stepped onto the narrow, muddy path leading into the forest. The remnants of the storm clung to the air¡ªearthy, wet, and cold. Branches sagged under the weight of rain, and the towering trees marked the boundary between familiarity and the unknown.


    As he crossed beneath their shadows, a strange flutter stirred in his chest. The faint hum he had felt the previous day, accompanied by a tingling warmth that spread to his hands.


    The sensation was brief, vanishing as quickly as it had come. Tianmo shook it off with a shallow breath, his jaw tightening as he pressed onward.


    The forest loomed ahead, its dense canopy stretching like a shroud over the muddy path. Shadows danced between the trees, their twisted trunks curling unnaturally, as if shaped by some unseen force. The air here was different¡ªheavier, thicker, carrying a faint tang of iron.


    Tianmo took his first step off the path and into the wild, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot swallowed by the forest''s silence. The deeper he ventured, the more alive the forest felt, not in the way of a thriving ecosystem, but something more... aware.


    Glowing moss clung to the roots and bark, its faint green light casting eerie patterns on the forest floor. Thick vines dangled like rope, swaying despite the stillness of the air. The occasional rustle of leaves or snap of a twig made Tianmo¡¯s ears perk, his observant eyes scanning for the source.


    Small animals darted away as he passed¡ªrabbits, squirrels, and birds with feathers that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Their movements were jerky and erratic, as if they sensed something far more dangerous than a boy wandering into their territory.


    The silence deepened.


    Tianmo slowed his steps, his heart pounding against his ribs. His gaze caught on a set of deep gouges raked across the trunk of a massive tree. The marks were jagged and precise, too large for any ordinary predator. A little farther on, a patch of charred ground spread out beneath his feet, its edges blackened as though struck by fire.


    What kind of beast leaves this behind?


    The air grew colder, biting through his damp cloak. His unease crawled up his spine, but he pressed forward, his hands balling into fists as the faint hum in his chest stirred once more. This time, the sensation was stronger¡ªa spark of warmth spreading outward, tingling at his fingertips like static. The faintest hint of electric sensation lingered in his palms, like the aftermath of a lightning strike.


    ¡°Not now,¡± he muttered, shaking his hands as if that were to make it cease.


    As he continued the forest opened into a small clearing, its ground uneven and slick with mud from the storm. The air felt lighter here, though the shadows of the trees still loomed at the edges. Tianmo stopped, his eyes scanning the clearing. A faint breeze stirred, carrying the earthy scent of wet leaves and moss.


    ¡°This¡¯ll do,¡± he said with a wide grin, dropping his damp cloak onto a nearby rock.


    Rolling his shoulders, Tianmo planted his feet and began imitating the stances he¡¯d seen the Hei Clan disciples practice during their training sessions. His bare toes dug into the mud as he shifted his weight, his hands clumsily mimicking their strikes.


    A forward punch. A sweeping kick. A pivot into an elbow strike.


    His movements were far from graceful¡ªhis punches lacked precision, and his kicks often threw him off balance. Yet he persisted, keeping the same intensity.


    ¡°Keep moving. Don¡¯t stop,¡± he said to himself, his breath fogging in the cool air.


    As he struck again, his foot slid on the slick mud, sending him sprawling to the ground. The cold, wet earth clung to his skin, but he growled and pushed himself back up, his fists clenching.


    ¡°You¡¯re better than this,¡± he snapped, glaring at the tree in front of him as though it were mocking his efforts.


    He adjusted his stance, bending lower to keep his balance on the slick mud. He struck again, his movements clumsy but improving. His eyes darted to the uneven ground, imagining how an opponent might strike: quick, low, and relentless.


    Minutes passed, or maybe hours¡ªhe couldn¡¯t tell. His body ached, his knuckles stung, and his breath came in ragged gasps. Yet, the pulse in his chest stirred again, this time stronger, more insistent.


    The sensation built with each strike. His hands tingled, a warmth spreading through his arms as though igniting from within.


    But the tree remained unmoved.


    With a growl of frustration, Tianmo drew his fist back and slammed it into the bark with all his strength.


    The impact sent a sharp jolt up his arm, but something else happened. The bark shuddered beneath his knuckles, a faint vibration rippling outward. Tianmo froze, staring as the tree.


    ¡°Eh?!¡± he said which a shocked tone.


    The warmth in his chest surged, spreading like liquid fire through his veins. His vision blurred for a brief moment, and the world seemed to shift. The shadows of the forest brightened, and faint, glowing tendrils appeared¡ªthreads of light weaving through the air, pulsing like veins beneath the bark of the trees.


    Tianmo staggered back, blinking rapidly. The threads of light vanished as suddenly as they¡¯d appeared, leaving the clearing quiet once more.


    He looked down at his hand, now faintly tingling as if charged with static. Turning it over, he flexed his fingers, his pulse racing.


    ¡°Did the storm¡­ do this?¡± he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his ragged breathing.


    Tianmo clenched his fists and turned back to the tree, determination rekindled in his eyes.


    ¡°Whatever this is¡­ I¡¯ll figure it out.¡±


    And with that, he began again.


    <hr>


    The forest seemed to hold its breath as Tianmo continued to train. The air grew colder, dense with an unnatural weight that pressed against his chest. Even the faint rustling of leaves had vanished, replaced by an eerie silence that swallowed every sound.


    Tianmo slowed his steps, his sharp eyes darting between the towering trees. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.


    A twig snapped behind him.


    Tianmo whirled around, his heart pounding. Nothing. Just the shifting shadows of the forest, moving with a life of their own. He exhaled slowly, trying to shake the unease curling in his stomach.


    Then, the shadows moved.


    A massive figure stepped into the clearing, its black fur shimmering as if woven from starlight. Its glowing silver eyes locked onto Tianmo, unblinking and cold. Rune-like patterns etched into its body pulsed faintly, their light casting ghostly shapes onto the ground.


    The yaoguai¡ªa wolf unlike any creature Tianmo had ever seen growled low, its voice resonating like a distant thunderclap. Its muscles coiled with fluid precision, and the air around it shimmered with an aura of energy so dense it felt suffocating.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Tianmo¡¯s breath hitched. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move.


    The yaoguai lunged.


    Its claws ripping through the mud. Tianmo remembered the low, crouched stance he¡¯d practiced and pivoted just in time, the beast¡¯s swipe missing by a hair. ¡± Mud splattered as Tianmo stabilized his feet, his heart hammering. The wolf turned, its silver eyes narrowing, and bared its teeth in a snarl that shook the air.


    Tianmo¡¯s gaze darted around the clearing, his mind racing. The ground was uneven, tangled with roots and slick with mud. He clenched his fists, the hum in his chest intensifying as adrenaline coursed through him.


    Think, Tianmo. Think!


    The yaoguai charged again, its claws tearing into the earth as it closed the distance in an instant. Tianmo jumped back, narrowly avoiding the swipe, and stumbled over a root. He fell, his back hitting the ground hard, but his eyes caught something¡ªa slight limp in the yaoguai¡¯s hind leg.


    His mind sharpened.


    Using the moment¡¯s reprieve, he scrambled to his feet and grabbed a sharp rock from the ground. The yaoguai lunged once more, its silver eyes gleaming, but Tianmo sidestepped at the last second, plunging the rock into its injured leg.


    The beast roared, its energy flaring as it stumbled, the shockwave from its cry rippling through the ground and knocking Tianmo off balance. He landed hard, his weapon flying from his hand.


    The wolf turned, its silver eyes burning with fury. Tianmo struggled to stand, but the yaoguai was faster. It loomed over him, its jaws opening wide, a visible surge of red energy charging in its throat.


    Then the hum in Tianmo¡¯s chest exploded.


    Heat rushed through his body, spreading from his core to his fingertips like molten fire. The world around him seemed to slow, the yaoguai¡¯s movements dragging through syrup. His vision blurred, then sharpened into something surreal¡ªglowing lines of energy pulsed through the wolf¡¯s body, radiating out into the forest like veins of light.


    Tianmo¡¯s breathing steadied, his fear replaced by an instinctive understanding. He rolled to the side just as the yaoguai¡¯s claws came down, the strike missing him by inches.


    As he rose, the warmth in his chest surged into his arm. He grabbed a broken branch, and when he swung it, a faint ripple of energy followed the motion. The makeshift weapon struck the yaoguai¡¯s side with a force that belied its flimsy appearance, sending the beast staggering back.


    The yaoguai growled, its energy flaring brighter, and Tianmo¡¯s newfound power dimmed as quickly as it had come. His body felt heavier, his limbs trembling with exhaustion.


    The wolf shook itself, its glowing eyes locking onto Tianmo once more. It crouched low, its energy condensing into a visible aura as it prepared to strike.


    Tianmo stood his ground, his fists clenched and his breath ragged. The energy in his chest had faded, leaving only a faint echo. His eyes darted around the clearing, but there was no escape, no advantage to exploit.


    The yaoguai lunged, its jaws open wide.


    A streak of scarlet light tore through the clearing, slicing the air with a searing crack. The yaoguai yelped, its body twisting mid-air before crashing to the ground in a heap.


    Tianmo froze, his eyes wide as a figure stepped into the clearing.


    The scarlet light swirled around her like living flame, illuminating the forest with an ethereal glow. Her sharp gaze locked onto the yaoguai as she moved with precise, lethal grace, her hand cutting through the air in a motion too fast to follow.


    The yaoguai let out a final whimper before collapsing, its aura dispersing into the night like a snuffed flame.


    Tianmo¡¯s legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He stared at the figure, awe and confusion warring in his mind.


    Who was this woman, and how had she dispatched the beast with such ease?


    The clearing was silent, save for the faint crackle of dissipating energy. The yaoguai lay still, its massive body crumpled and lifeless, its glowing silver eyes now dim and glassy. Tianmo knelt on the muddy ground, his breath ragged as he stared at the figure before him.


    She stood tall, her dark robes swaying faintly in the cool breeze. The embroidery on the fabric shimmered like living fire, shifting with an almost hypnotic grace. Her face was beautiful and elegant, her scarlet eyes scanning the scene with a calm intensity that made Tianmo shiver.


    She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto Tianmo. ¡°You¡¯re lucky to be alive,¡± she said, her voice low and steady, carrying an edge of disapproval.


    Tianmo opened his mouth to protest, but her sharp eyes narrowed, silencing him before he could speak.


    ¡°That creature,¡± she continued, gesturing toward the yaoguai with a flick of her wrist, ¡°would have torn you apart in another breath if I hadn¡¯t intervened. You think bravery and desperation are enough to face a beast like that?¡±


    Tianmo swallowed hard, his fists clenching at her words. His pride burned, but he couldn¡¯t deny the truth in her tone.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have a choice,¡± he muttered, his voice barely audible. ¡°I couldn¡¯t just run.¡±


    The woman¡¯s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. ¡°Couldn¡¯t run? Or wouldn¡¯t?¡± She stepped closer, the light of her energy casting faint shadows across his face. ¡°You let your pride and anger lead you into a fight you couldn¡¯t win. That¡¯s how people die.¡±


    Her words struck him like a blow, but she continued before he could respond.


    ¡°Still,¡± she said, her gaze softening slightly as she studied him, ¡°you survived longer than most would. There¡¯s some potential in you, kid.¡±


    Tianmo¡¯s chest tightened at her words. ¡°Teach me! Teach me how you did that!¡± he blurted, the desperation in his voice cutting through the air.


    The woman raised an eyebrow, folding her arms as she regarded him. She glanced down at his mud-streaked clothes and bloodied knuckles. ¡°You don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re holding. Do you?"


    She gestured toward his chest, and Tianmo blinked in confusion.


    ¡°The spark in you,¡± she said, her tone growing serious. ¡°Power like that burns those who don¡¯t respect it. Do you even understand what¡¯s stirring inside you?¡±


    Tianmo shook his head cluelessly, ¡°Nope! Well I feel this strange hum in my chest¡ªbut how would you be able to tell that?"


    The woman¡¯s lips curving into a faint smile as if amused by his ignorance. ¡°How could I tell?¡± she repeated, her voice laced with equal parts mockery and curiosity. ¡°It¡¯s as loud as thunder in a silent valley. Even a half-trained fool could sense the Qi surging within you, raw and unrefined.¡±


    Tianmo blinked, his mouth opening to protest, but she raised a hand, silencing him with a flick of her fingers. ¡°The way you moved just now,¡± she continued, her tone growing colder, ¡°the flutter in your chest that you don¡¯t yet understand, the ripple of energy that lashed out when you struck. All of it screams of someone barely clinging to the reins of power they don¡¯t yet know how to wield.¡±


    Tianmo¡¯s heart nearly burst from his chest, his eyes lighten with stars as her words struck him. ¡°Qi?!¡± he gasped, his voice rising with a mix of awe and wild disbelief. ¡°You mean I have Qi?! Me?! Are you serious?!¡± His hands shot to his chest as if expecting to feel it thrumming beneath his skin.


    ¡°Then teach me,¡± he said, his voice firm despite the tremble in his hands. ¡°If I actually have Qi then i''ll be able to make a change!¡±


    The woman straightened, her expression unreadable as she studied him. For a moment, the clearing was silent, the weight of her scrutiny pressing down on him like the forest itself was watching. ¡°Meet me at dawn,¡± she said finally, her tone laced with challenge.


    Tianmo blinked, his heart pounding. ¡°Really?!¡±


    She turned and began to walk away. ¡°Only one way to find out.¡± she called over her shoulder, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.


    And with that, she disappeared into the shadows of the forest, leaving Tianmo alone with the faint glow of the fading Qi and the echo of her words seared into his mind.


    He stood slowly, his battered body aching, but his resolve burning brighter than ever.


    The path back to Blackstone was a blur of pain and exhilaration. Mud clung to Tianmo¡¯s battered frame, and every step sent jolts through his bruised legs and raw knuckles. Yet, the ache was drowned by the fire in his chest.


    <hr>


    As the village came into view, the sight of familiar rooftops and smoke curling lazily from chimneys steadied his uneven breaths. The storm¡¯s aftermath lingered in the muddy streets, but life had resumed. Lanterns flickered faintly in the windows, their warm glow beckoning him home.


    When he stepped inside, the sound of Meili¡¯s gasp froze him in place.


    ¡°Tianmo!¡± she exclaimed, rushing toward him. Her sharp eyes scanned his torn clothes and bloodied knuckles, her face tight with worry.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Tianmo said quickly, forcing a grin. ¡°You should see the other guy.¡±


    Meili¡¯s hands tightened on his shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t joke about this! What were you thinking?¡±


    Tianmo winced as she guided him to a chair and began tending to his injuries. Her scolding continued, but her touch was gentle, her concern unshakable.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get yourself killed one day!¡± she yelled, her voice trembling.


    Tianmo hesitated, her earlier warnings about strength lingering in his mind. ¡°I won¡¯t, Ma,¡± he said quietly, his voice steady. ¡°I¡¯ll come back stronger every time!¡±


    Later that night, as the village slept under the faint light of a waning moon, Tianmo stood at the edge of Blackstone. The forest loomed ahead, its shadows deep and endless, but this time, it didn¡¯t feel like an enemy.


    He clenched his bruised fists, his eyes narrowing with determination.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there,¡± he muttered, his voice firm. ¡°No matter what.¡±


    And with that, he stepped forward, disappearing into the misty path as the first hints of dawn crept over the horizon.

 Travelers Guide to Jianghu: Chapter 3

    Title: Threads of Light


    Hey, stray. Yeah, you¡ªdrifting through this tale like a leaf in the wind. You made it this far, so let me tell you what went down. Chapter 3? Let¡¯s call it The Night I Almost Became Wolf Chow.


    Picture this: I¡¯m out there punching trees (because why not?), feeling like the main character in some martial arts legend. Then, bam! Enter Yinyue Wolf¡ªbig, glowing, and clearly not impressed. Add to that a mysterious woman with eyes like molten fire, who practically called me an idiot to my face (she¡¯s not wrong, but still), and you¡¯ve got the kind of night that sticks with you.


    Let¡¯s break it down so you don¡¯t go wandering into the woods thinking you¡¯re invincible. Spoiler: you¡¯re not.


    <hr>


    <h3 style="text-align: center">Key Details and Context


    Yinyue Wolves:


    So, remember the wolf? That wasn¡¯t just any yaoguai¡ªit was a Yinyue, a rare breed of demon wolf with fur like woven starlight and strength to match. They¡¯re fast, clever, and can go paw-to-paw with a Second-Rate Warrior. And me? I¡¯m barely holding onto Third-Rate. You do the math.


    P.S It wasn''t asking for belly rubs¡ªit was planning how to make me it''s next meal.


    <hr>


    The Woman with Scarlet Eyes:


    Okay, so she was hot¡ªI mean, her eyes and body were hot with scarlet Qi. Her aura had this fiery intensity! Like it could cut through steel.


    She wasn¡¯t exactly thrilled with me, well not as much as I was thrilled to see her. Something about pride and desperation not being substitutes for strength. (Fair.) But she also said I have Qi, which makes her the most interesting person I¡¯ve met so far.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    <hr>


    Glossary


    Yinyue Wolves (ÒøÔÂÀÇ Y¨ªn Yu¨¨ L¨¢ng):


    A race of rare yaoguai wolves with shimmering fur and glowing rune-like patterns. Their strength is comparable to a Second-Rate Warrior, and their agility makes them even more dangerous. Yinyue wolves are known for their pack mentality and their ability to harness a rudimentary form of energy.


    Yaoguai (Ñý¹Ö Y¨¡o Gu¨¤i):


    Demon beasts infused with spiritual or dark energy. They vary in strength and intelligence, but even the weakest are deadlier than normal animals.


    Qi (Æø Q¨¬):


    The life force that flows through all living things. In the hands of a cultivator, Qi becomes a tool for incredible strength, speed, and techniques.


    <hr>


    Pronunciation Guide


    Yinyue Wolves (ÒøÔÂÀÇ): Yin-yoo-eh Lahng


    Yaoguai (Ñý¹Ö): Yow Gwhy


    Qi (Æø): Chee


    <hr>


    Mini Character Stat Sheets


    The Woman with Scarlet Eyes (Unnamed):


    Age: Unknown


    Realm: First-Rate Warrior


    Personality: Kinda mean, idk yet


    Appearance: Dark robes that flow with subtle precision. Her scarlet eyes burn with intensity, and her aura carries the same fiery hue, like embers glowing in the night.


    Quirk: N/A


    <hr>


    Yinyue Wolf (ÒøÔÂÀÇ Y¨ªn Yu¨¨ L¨¢ng):


    Age: Unknown (likely several decades, as yaoguai grow stronger with age).


    Realm Equivalent: Second-Rate Warrior


    Traits:


    Shimmering, starlight-like fur with rune-like patterns that pulse faintly when using energy.


    Glowing silver eyes that seem to pierce into the soul.


    Quick, agile, and ferocious in combat, capable of outmaneuvering most opponents.


    Abilities:


    Aura Strike: A burst of condensed energy released in short-range attacks.


    Enhanced Senses: Acute hearing and smell make it almost impossible to hide from a Yinyue.


    Pack Instinct: While usually solitary when encountered, Yinyue wolves are stronger in packs, coordinating their attacks with unnerving precision.


    <hr>


    Pro Tip:


    If you ever meet a Yinyue, don¡¯t stare into its eyes¡ªit¡¯s not just intimidating; it¡¯s distracting. And when it lunges, you¡¯ll be too mesmerized to move. Unless you¡¯ve got backup or a miracle, it¡¯s better to run.


    ¡ªTianmo, Rookie Yaoguai Dodger