The morning sun spilled over the horizon like liquid gold, bathing Jade Creek in warmth and vitality. Long Tianyu, now eight years old, stirred in his modest bed of woven reeds and cotton. His father, Wen Qiang, had already started his work in the fields, his rhythmic singing carrying through the thin walls of their home. Tianyu sat up, a serene smile gracing his young face. Though his heart still held the bitterness of betrayal from his past life, he found solace in the simplicity of this existence.
Every morning began with chores—feeding the livestock, fetching water from the creek, and tending to the crops alongside his father. Wen Qiang believed that hard work built character, a lesson Tianyu respected deeply. While his mortal body adapted to this rhythm, his celestial mind dissected every movement, finding ways to blend these mundane tasks with the subtle arts of cultivation.
For instance, drawing water from the creek became an exercise in Qi control. Each pull of the bucket was accompanied by a silent meditation, allowing Tianyu to harmonize with the flow of Earth and Water Qi in his surroundings. His breaths grew steady, his movements graceful, and the Qi within him began to stir like embers waiting to ignite.
During breaks, Wen Qiang taught him the basics of swordsmanship using an old, chipped blade. "Yu'er," his father would say, holding the sword with practiced ease, "a blade is an extension of your will. Your strength means nothing without precision and control."
Though Tianyu had wielded divine weapons in his past life, he feigned ignorance, allowing his father to guide him. The repetition of strikes and parries was therapeutic—a far cry from the deadly techniques of the 9th Heavenly Realm.
The Wen family was small but warm. His mother, Wen Mei, was the heart of their home, her laughter filling the air as she cooked meals or tended to her small flower garden. She often scolded Tianyu for his reckless curiosity, but her love was evident in every gesture.
One day, while helping his mother grind herbs, Tianyu accidentally knocked over a jar of powdered ginseng. Wen Mei gasped, her hands flying to her hips. "Yu'er! Do you know how expensive that is?"
Tianyu grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, Mother. I'll make it up to you!"
"And how will you do that, young man?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.
"I'll find the biggest, freshest ginseng root in the woods tomorrow. Promise!"
She sighed, shaking her head. "You're just like your father—always promising things you can't deliver."
But when Tianyu did return the next day with a pristine ginseng root, Wen Mei could only smile, pretending to be unimpressed. "Lucky boy," she muttered, though her pride was evident.
At night, when the world slept and the village fell silent, Tianyu's true journey began. He would sit cross-legged in the small clearing behind their home, his body illuminated by the silver light of the moon. Here, he practiced the most basic cultivation techniques, drawing in the ambient Qi of the Earth and Sky.
His first challenge was the Foundation Embers stage, which required him to awaken and nurture his Qi. The process was tedious, especially with a mortal body, but Tianyu was patient. He visualized the essence of a dragon—resilient, unyielding, and eternal. Slowly but surely, his inner Qi began to gather, forming a faint, glowing ember within his spiritual core.
The nights were often filled with minor setbacks. On one occasion, he accidentally disrupted the flow of his Qi, causing his body to convulse in pain. Yet, he remained undeterred. "The Dao punishes the impatient," he reminded himself.
Through consistent effort, Tianyu advanced to the mid stage of Foundation Embers. Though it was far from his former glory, the progress felt significant. The ember within him burned brighter, a testament to his will and determination.
One evening, as Tianyu sat by the creek after training, he watched the fireflies dance above the water's surface. His heart was filled with a strange mix of peace and longing.
"I've lost so much," he thought, dipping his fingers into the cool water. "But I've gained something precious—a family that loves me without conditions. Would it be so bad to live like this forever?"
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Deep down, he knew his enemies were still out there, growing stronger with every passing day. For now, he would enjoy this peace, but the flame of revenge burned quietly in his heart.
One afternoon, Wen Qiang surprised him with a gift—a small, wooden pendant carved into the shape of a dragon.
"It's not much," his father admitted, "but I thought you'd like it. It's a lucky charm for warriors."
Tianyu stared at the pendant, his heart swelling with emotion. Though his father had no idea of his true identity, the gift felt profound—a reminder of his past and a symbol of his future.
"Thank you, Father," Tianyu said, bowing deeply. "I'll treasure it always."
As days turned to weeks, Tianyu's bond with his family grew stronger, and his cultivation progressed steadily. Each moment of happiness was tinged with the bittersweet knowledge of his hidden truth, but he chose to focus on the present, cherishing the innocence and joy of his new life.