The night was heavy with storm clouds. Thunder rolled over Qinghe Town, and streaks of crimson lightning split the heavens as if the world itself was restless.
Inside a small wooden hut on the edge of town, the cries of a newborn echoed through the rain.
"Su… he's beautiful," whispered Lian Ruo, pale and trembling, her arms weak as she cradled the infant. Her spiritual veins had shattered during childbirth. She had little time left.
The man at her side, Han Su, clenched her hand tightly. His heart trembled between joy and despair.
"Ruo, hold on. I'll save you," he swore. He kissed his wife's forehead, then looked at the swaddled child. "His name… will be Han Jue. He will live, even if we cannot."
Lian Ruo's eyes softened. She brushed her trembling fingers across the boy's cheek. "Han Jue… unyielding… just like his father."
But even as she smiled, her breathing weakened. The only hope was the rare Moonshade Spirit Grass, rumored to restore shattered spiritual veins. Without it, she would not live to see the dawn.
Han Su stood, determination blazing in his eyes. "Wait for me, Ruo. I'll return."
He grabbed his sword and rushed into the storm.
---
🌲 Silent Forest
The forest groaned under the weight of rain. Spiritual mist curled between ancient trees as Han Su searched frantically. After hours, he found it — a glowing Moonshade Spirit Grass growing beneath a moss-covered stone.
Relief surged through him, but before he could reach for it, shadows emerged. Five masked cultivators stepped out, their blades gleaming with killing intent.
One sneered. "Han Su. Did you think you could hide forever? Hand over the pendant, and we might let you live."
Han Su's hand flew to the bloodstained jade pendant at his chest — the heirloom of the Han Clan, one of the most feared families in the Xuanming Realm.
His jaw tightened. He recognized their aura. These were not random attackers.
"Han Wei…" Han Su spat the name bitterly. His cousin. His own blood. "So it was you who sent them."
Han Wei — son of Han Su's uncle, the man who coveted leadership of the clan. Jealousy had turned kin into executioner.
Han Su's grip tightened on his sword. "Even if I die tonight, you will never touch this pendant… nor my son."
Steel clashed beneath the storm. Han Su fought like a cornered beast, cutting down two assassins before a blade pierced his chest. Blood spilled into the mud.
As the world faded, his last thought was of his newborn son. Jue… live. Live for me.
---
🏚️ Back in Qinghe Town
Lian Ruo felt her husband's life force vanish. Tears streamed down her face, but she pressed her lips to her child's forehead.
"My little Jue… I cannot stay. But you… you must live."
With the last of her strength, she wrapped the infant in cloth and staggered through the rain. She reached the crooked house at the edge of town — the home of Madam Yan, the eccentric old healer.
The door creaked open. Madam Yan, her hair silver and her eyes cloudy yet sharp, looked down at the trembling figure.
"Please…" Lian Ruo's voice cracked. She placed the crying baby in the old woman's arms. "His name… is Han Jue. Protect him."
Before Madam Yan could respond, Lian Ruo collapsed lifelessly, her body as fragile as a lotus fading in winter.
Silence filled the storm.
Madam Yan looked at the infant, her wrinkled hands trembling. "Han Jue…" she whispered, but her gaze shifted to the pendant hidden in the child's wrappings. Her old eyes flickered with recognition.
"So… you are of that bloodline."
She closed her eyes. To keep him safe, his true name must vanish.
From that night on, Han Jue became Yan Jue, the poor grandson of an eccentric healer. To the world, he was no one. Forgotten. Insignificant.
Yet above the storm clouds, thunder rumbled once more — as if the heavens themselves acknowledged his birth.
The child who would one day shake the world had begun his path.