The forest was silent—yet within that silence, the fierce struggle for survival between beasts echoed faintly. Though not vast compared to the grand territories ruled by great dynasties, this forest was the lifeblood of the nearby village. To them, it was more than mere land; it was their property, their source of sustenance and survival.
This forest harbored many creatures of various shapes and sizes. Some grazed peacefully on the abundant grasses, while others thirsted for flesh and blood, hunting their own kind to fill the relentless hunger within. The forest had its own laws—a harsh code where only the strongest survived.
For the village families, the forest was critical, providing food, medicine, and shelter. Multiple families lived within the village, each striving in their own way to survive and build a better future. The ultimate goal of survival—to raise the next generation stronger, wiser, and more powerful—remained clear in everyone's minds. To gain respect and place in society, one must walk the path of power.
In this world known as the Blue Star, countless factions of varying strength controlled vast regions, led by powerful mortal cultivators—beings who could alter the very color of the sky with but a flick of their finger.
Apart from these factions, independent forces moved quietly, choosing not to reveal their strength unless absolutely necessary. For them, power was a last resort, wielded only without hesitation when truly needed.
The forest was alive with green—tall trees stretched their limbs skyward, sunlight danced through leaves, and the air buzzed quietly with life. Suddenly, a swift movement caught the eyes of two boys standing silently at the edge of a clearing.
A lithe, fox-like beast padded stealthily through the bushes, its sharp amber eyes fixed on a small rabbit ahead. But this rabbit was no easy prey. It moved with lightning speed, muscles tensed and agile, showing no sign of weakness. The chase had begun—a test of skill and will.
Yunkai Tao watched calmly, unfazed by the sudden frenzy. Beside him, his younger cousin, Luo Tang, tensed nervously, gripping a twig as if it could shield him from the wild's harsh realities.
"Why doesn't the rabbit seem afraid?" Luo Tang whispered, voice trembling a little.
Tao met his eyes steadily, then gestured toward the fleeing creature. "The forest teaches a hard lesson: survival is about more than size or strength. Speed, awareness, and wisdom often tip the scales. That rabbit's heart beats for one thing—escape—and it knows every root and hiding spot like its own pawprints."
Luo Tang watched the rabbit skillfully twist and dash between tangled roots and sharp rocks, narrowly evading the hungry predator. "But the fox looks so fierce, so powerful. What if it catches the rabbit?"
Tao lowered his voice for the lesson to sink in. "The fox is strong, yes, and it needs to eat. But strength isn't just muscle—it's patience and timing. The rabbit uses agility and cunning. Both play their part in nature's balance. Like how farmers plant and harvest—too much of one thing can ruin the soil. Every creature has its role, every life matters."
Far behind, hidden amid the trees, the uncle and aunt observed quietly, their faces calm yet attentive. They knew the forest was the boy's greatest teacher, and their silence let him absorb its lessons naturally.
Luo Tang blinked, absorbing Tao's words. "So… in this wild place, even the smallest must be strong in their own way?"
"Exactly," Tao answered. "Survival isn't just brute force. It's knowing when to run, when to fight, and how to live with respect for all life—even those we fear."
As the chase continued, the rabbit zigzagged with breathtaking agility, foiling the fox repeatedly. The predator lunged and skidded, muscles straining, but the prey always stayed just ahead—a heartbeat faster, a step wiser.
Tao smiled slightly. "The wild is brutal but fair. Just like life. It rewards those who learn and adapt."
Luo Tang's nervousness gave way to wonder. "I think I understand now. Power doesn't mean only fighting. It means knowing your place and surviving smart."
"Good," Tao said. "One day, you'll need this knowledge as much as strength."
The echoes of claws and swift paws faded into the dense forest as both animals vanished among the shadows. The boys remained, their bond deepened by the silent lesson of the wild.
While Yunkai Tao and Luo Tang stood quietly at the forest's edge, their eyes fixed on the fading chase of beasts, a lively group approached from the village path. Leading them was a boy draped in a striking blue robe, the fabric catching sunlight and shimmering softly like ripples on a calm lake. His hair was neatly tied back in a traditional knot, each movement deliberate and confident, marking him as a figure accustomed to command and respect. Around him clustered five or six other children, ranging from seven to ten years old, their eyes bright with excitement and curiosity, laughter bubbling as they stepped through the underbrush.
The leader advanced with measured grace, a smile playing on his lips that was both warm yet edged with a faint cunning—a smile that suggested he knew exactly how to hold the balance of friendliness and challenge. "So, it appears we meet again… Brother Tao," he said smoothly, his voice carrying polite warmth but underscored by a subtle, almost teasing sharpness. "How have you been?"
Yunkai Tao remained still, his expression calm and unreadable. His dark eyes gleamed softly but offered no words. Beside him, Luo Tang's small frame stiffened; his brows furrowed into a glare as he instinctively bristled at the newcomers.
"Is that really you, Blue Robe Brother? Long time no see," Luo Tang sneered mockingly, stepping forward with the confident boldness that only youth could allow.
Yeotu—the boy in the blue robe—snorted quietly, unfazed by Luo Tang's childish taunt. He was well accustomed to the younger boy's antics and regarded them more as amusing background noise than a threat. "I don't understand why he always gets so worked up whenever I mention your name," Yeotu said, his voice light but laced with knowing humor. "Maybe it's because he like to pretend talking to you is some serious matter," he teased, turning a sly glance toward Tao.
Turning back to his eager companions, Yeotu's tone softened, an edge of admiration slipping into his words. "It's been nearly two months since I last saw Brother Tao. I have to say, he looks far stronger than before—almost unrecognizable."
Tao, ever measured, kept his gaze calm and his silence deliberate, weighing each word with caution.
Leaning forward slightly, Yeotu lowered his voice, shrouding the conversation in intimacy. "Brother Tao, there's a matter I wish to discuss with you directly. We're preparing to venture deep into the forest's heart. Rumors speak of a rare, precious herb—the blue lotus—that grows there. It's said to possess immense power and value."
Luo Tang scoffed under his breath, his voice barely a whisper, laced with skepticism. "You really think Brother Tao would just tag along because of that?"
"I'm currently occupied with urgent matters," Tao replied evenly, uncaring of the challenge in Luo Tang's tone. "So please, continue your proposal—but as things stand, I have no interest in joining this endeavor."
Yeotu's expression barely flickered—a well-trained patience born from many similar refusals. "Don't mistake our respect, Brother Tao. We recognize your strength and the weight of your responsibilities. But the whispers in the village speak plainly—deep in these woods, the blue lotus grows in abundance. And the beasts that guard it? Far deadlier than the fox-like predators we face here."
He pivoted slowly, nodding toward the darkening canopy beyond, where shadows pooled like ink.
After a long breath, Tao spoke, thoughtful but decisive. "Very well. I will accompany your group. But there are two conditions: first, we move with caution—no reckless risks. Second, any gains are distributed fairly, reflecting the effort and danger each person endures."
A broad, approving smile broke across Yeotu's face, his eyes flashing with sharp approval. "Those are reasonable terms. I expected nothing less from you, Brother Tao."
Beside him, Luo Tang fidgeted nervously, his youthful mind swirling. "Why agree with them and not the others? They're strangers to us."
Meeting Luo Tang's gaze steadily, Tao answered, "They move with purpose and coordination—qualities missing in others. When facing real danger, strength alone won't suffice. Trust and strategy make the difference between survival and failure."
Yeo Tu's eyes sparkled with renewed eagerness. "Exactly. United, we stand a better chance to claim the blue lotus—and all the power it promises."
Why did Yunkai Tao, usually so cautious and reserved, agree so quickly to join them? The answer lay deeper than mere curiosity or pride.
Tao had heard tales of the two powerful beasts guarding the heart of the forest—the very territory spoken of in hushed tones by elders and traders alike. Before this journey, his uncle and aunt had entrusted him with a carefully drawn map, marked with secret guidance and warnings. They had spoken little, but their eyes held a grave seriousness. Tao knew that these creatures were not ordinary predators; they possessed strange and formidable abilities, as yet unknown even to the villagers.
His decision was born from a desire to understand these dangers firsthand. To face them alone would be reckless. But moving in a group—not just anyone, but those willing to cooperate and strategize—offered a chance not only for safety but for knowledge.
Moreover, Tao's own quest to find the elusive blue lotus was a driving force. The rare flower was reputed to hold immense power, and its value extended far beyond wealth—it was a key to strengthening one's cultivation and unlocking hidden potentials.
The deeper shadows of the forest thickened as the group pressed forward, but no one could have anticipated the sudden ambush that awaited them. From the dense thicket, not one but three snarling beasts burst out—two towering wolf-like creatures, their eyes gleaming with savage hunger, and the hulking bear-like guardian, muscles tensed and claws poised to rend.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Yeotu met the charging wolves head-on, his staff swinging with brutal force. The first beast lunged at him, teeth flashing, knocking his weapon aside with a savage swipe. Simultaneously, the second wolf circled behind, claws scraping against Yeotu's back as he twisted sharply to avoid its bite. Blood welled from fresh gashes, stinging fiercely, but Yeotu's strikes never faltered—each swing of his staff aimed with deadly precision to keep the vicious attackers at bay.
Meanwhile, Tao found himself confronted by the massive bear-like guardian and another wolf closing fast from his side. His simple bamboo stick felt almost laughably inadequate against such brutal foes, but Tao's eyes were calm, his movements sharp and flowing like water.
First, he lunged low, stabbing the stick at the wolf's exposed flank, earning a harsh snarl. The wolf countered with a furious lunge, claws aimed to shred. Tao twisted just in time, the beast's claws grazing his shoulder but missing any vital spot. In the same motion, Tao spun and delivered an upward strike against the bear-like beast's shin. The creature roared in surprise as the bamboo cracked wood and tore through flesh.
The bear retaliated with a powerful swipe, catching Tao's arm and sending him staggering back as a violent pain shot through his muscles. Tao's breath hitched, but he forced himself steady, eyes narrowing.
From the corner of his vision, Tao saw the second wolf preparing to flank him. Thinking fast, he planted his feet firmly, raised the stick above his head, and swung in a wide arc—a sweeping strike to meet the beast's charge. The crack of the strike echoed as the stick hit bone, staggering the wolf.
Both Tao and Yeotu fought fiercely—back-to-back, a symphony of calculated strikes and evasive maneuvers. Tao parried a furious blow, then plunged his bamboo stick between the jaws of the bear-like beast when it lunged, jamming the creature's attack long enough for Yeotu to land a crushing blow to the beast's ribs.
Despite the relentless assault, Tao's arms ached, blood dripped from ragged cuts, and his clothes were torn. Yet, his mind was razor-sharp—each strike, each dodge was a calculated move in a deadly game.
Yeotu, too, was bleeding from deep wounds, his breath ragged, but he pressed on, spinning and striking with practiced ferocity. Luo Tang, nearby, fought desperately to hold off two more wolves, his small blade flashing as he dodged jaws and claws.
The forest's breath seemed to pause as the brutal dance continued. Tao found himself locked in a terrible rhythm against the hulking bear-like beast, its claws raking deep furrows into his arms and side. Every strike made his muscles ache fiercely, but Tao's focus was absolute, moving with fluid grace despite the pain.
At a sudden moment, the bear lunged, swinging its massive paw for a crushing blow aimed at Tao's head. Tao barely blocked it with his bamboo, the impact resonating up his arms, splinters pricking his skin. He stumbled backwards but caught himself, eyes flashing to the nearby wolves closing in.
Yeotu was locked in his own deadly battle, his staff weaving and cracking in the air as it met vicious claws. The second wolf lunged at him again, this time catching Yeotu's shoulder with a rough swipe that sent a spray of blood flying. Yeotu grunted but twisted sharply, swinging his staff in a brutal arc that caught the wolf's skull with a heavy crack. The beast staggered, dazed but still snarling.
Seeing Yeotu struggle, Tao let out a sharp shout and stepped forward, swinging his bamboo stick and jabbing at the wolf threatening Yeotu. The sharp tip sliced into the wolf's side, forcing it to pull back.
Yeotu nodded sharply in thanks, gathering strength, and slammed his staff into the bear's jaw, causing it to roar in pain and stagger.
But the fight was far from over.
The bear retaliated by rearing up, swiping fiercely at Yeotu. Tao rushed to shield his companion, thrusting his bamboo into the beast's thigh amid its swing. The beast howled, kicking out with a massive paw that knocked Tao off balance and crashing to the ground, breath wheezing.
From the corner, Luo Tang charged in, his small blade flashing as he slashed at one of the wolves closing in on Tao. The wolf growled, snapping its jaws inches from Luo Tang's face before retreating slightly, wary of the wild desperation in the boy's attack.
Tao gritted his teeth, pushing off the ground and rolling to his feet. Blood dripped from cuts along his arms and side, but his eyes burned with fierce resolve.
Yeotu called out, "Together! Hit the bear's side! Distract the wolves!"
The group surged forward, their movements sharp and desperate. Tao feinted left, luring the massive bear-like guardian into overcommitting. With a sudden, lightning-quick lunge, he drove his bamboo stick deep into the beast's ribs. The creature howled in brutal agony, staggering as crimson blood welled from the wound and dripped onto the mossy ground.
Seizing the moment, Yeotu turned his fury to the wolf staggering beside him. With two swift and crushing blows of his sturdy staff—a heavy strike to the beast's temple followed by a forceful blow to its jaw—the wolf staggered violently, its snarl breaking into a garbled growl as it collapsed, defeated.
Luo Tang faced the third wolf, circling warily as his breaths came sharp and shallow from pain. Despite a deep gash on his shoulder, he pressed forward with fearless determination. The wolf lunged, jaws snapping, but Luo Tang dodged, slashing with his small knife to the beast's exposed side. Twice he struck, bloodied but relentless. Finally, with a lunging thrust to the wolf's neck, the beast collapsed, twitching as life fled.
Tao's arm ached, and the bamboo stick in his hand was cracked and splintered from relentless impacts, yet he pressed on. The bear, recovering from the rib wound, swung wildly, its huge paw smashing down toward Tao. Tao ducked expertly, narrowly avoiding the blow, then struck upward, jabbing the broken bamboo's sharp end into the beast's groin. The beast shrieked, staggering back in pain.
Yeotu, bruised and bleeding but undefeated, engaged the larger wolf with raw fury. He parried claw slashes, spinning with precise strikes that finally drove the wolf to its knees. With a final crushing overhead blow, Yeotu ended the fight.
As the battle raged, Tao's relentless agility metamorphosed his humble bamboo into a spear of death: three times he dodged lethal strikes and stabbed with exacting precision, his final thrust deep into the bear's side sending it crashing backward.
The bear roared in fury, but its movements slowed, legs trembling under the weight of its wounds. The combined assault of Tao's relentless jabs, Yeotu's sweeping staff blows, and Luo Tang's quick, precise knife strikes left the pack defeated or retreating.
Breathing heavily, bloodied and bruised, the three warriors stood victorious: Tao had crippled and driven off the monstrous bear; Yeotu crushed two wolves; and Luo Tang, though deeply injured, had vanquished the remaining wolf.
The battle had finally ended. The massive bear lay in silence, its body sprawled heavily across the ground, while the wolves lay lifeless nearby. Tao, Yeotu, Luo Tang, and the rest of the group stood amidst the carnage, their clothes torn, their bodies soaked in cuts and bruises. Survival had come at a painful cost.
As the forest wind shifted, Tao's sharp eyes caught the faint glimmer ahead. They pushed onward until they entered the grove, where their breath caught in unison. Within the clearing bloomed thirty glowing blue lotuses, their petals emitting a calm, otherworldly light.
Even through their exhaustion, wonder filled their hearts. Thirty in total—each flower more beautiful than the last.
Tao spoke first, voice steady despite his weariness. "We have endured together. Every strike and every wound mattered. These must be divided according to our efforts."
The group nodded without protest. The lotuses were carefully collected, counted, and then divided: Tao, Yeotu, and Luo Tang receiving greater shares for slaughtering the fiercest beasts, while the rest, who had bought time by drawing away other predators, received their rightful portions. No discord rose—the distribution was fair, and all accepted it with relief.
But as Tao bound the lotuses, his gaze shifted to their wounds. The earth beneath their feet was stained with blood. He frowned. "We cannot leave them open. If the smell spreads further, stronger beast may come."
Thinking fast, they returned to simple methods known to any hunter or village healer. Tao crushed several lotus petals carefully and mixed the juice with their leaves, creating a thick, cool paste. Slowly, he spread it over the gash in his arm, sighing as the bleeding slowed and the pain dulled. Yeotu did the same, pressing it firmly onto the slash across his shoulder, while Luo Tang squeezed liquid from the petals over his torn flesh. Each hissed at first, for the substance stung like bitter herbs, but the bleeding steadied quickly.
Those less injured dabbed the glowing liquid along scratches or tied leaves directly against their wounds with strips of cloth torn from their clothes. The petals, when pressed, oozed a subtle soothing liquid—not miraculous like a cultivator's power, but enough to disinfect and aid the body's natural recovery. After tending one another with this simple yet practical method, their bleeding stopped, and the risk of the forest's predators catching their scent lessened greatly.
Only once their wounds were treated did the group allow themselves to rest, their fear of fresh danger finally eased.
With the lotus divided and their injuries bound, they began their long, weary walk back to the village. Though tired beyond measure, joy filled their hearts—they had faced death together, carried legendary treasure in their hands, and returned alive.
The forest had gone quiet again, broken only by the sound of their ragged breathing. Tao's clothes were in tatters, Yeotu leaned heavily on his staff though still standing tall, and Luo Tang clutched his small blade with trembling hands. The massive bear and wolves lay lifeless, their blood soaking into the dark soil.
With great effort, the group pressed deeper and found the glowing grove where thirty blue lotuses bloomed with soft radiance. For the children, it felt like they had discovered the greatest treasure in the world. They carefully harvested the flowers, divided them fairly according to contribution, and used some crushed petals and leaves to dress their wounds. The simple paste stopped their bleeding and eased the pain—just enough to keep them safe from new predators drawn to blood.
Yet in the scale of the greater world, their feat was not truly extraordinary.
For the small village, the blue lotus was a treasure beyond measure: a plant so rare that even one flower could heal grave injuries or save a life. The villagers, untrained in cultivation, relied on such herbs for survival. To mortals, the lotus was indeed precious. But for cultivators, who walked a path of strength far higher than ordinary life, the blue lotus was little more than grass growing by the roadside. In the same way, the beasts they had slain—wolves and even the towering bear—were formidable to mortal youths. Yet for any true cultivator, they would have been ranked at the lowest possible tier.
Still, what mattered was not how the greater world saw it. For these children, who had walked into the jaws of death and returned alive, it was a hard-won victory—one that had steeled their resolve and shown a glimpse of what survival demanded.
Unbeknownst to the children, two figures watched everything from afar. Hidden among the high branches, Luo Tang's mother and father had followed in silence since the beginning, ensuring their son's safety without interfering. Their eyes were calm, proud, yet tinged with quiet concern.
The father stroked his short beard, murmuring, "That boy fought with fire, reckless yet unyielding. He carries courage, but courage without caution burns out quickly."
The mother, her gaze fixed on her son's tired figure, smiled faintly. "Reckless, yes. But when the wolf lunged, didn't you see? He did not run. He stood his ground, and even wounded, delivered the strike that saved Tao. Courage like that cannot be taught—it is born."
The father gave a slow nod. "True. And Tao… calm as water even in the storm. He led not by command, but by example. A dangerous forest, low-ranked beasts yes, but still, for mortal children to face them and survive… that is already enough to shape steel."
The mother's tone softened further. "Then let us not interfere. The world they will face is vast, and far harsher than this. Better they learn its lessons early, to bleed now so they may not die later."
The two elders exchanged a quiet look of understanding, then faded back into the trees, leaving the children to carry their hard-earned prize home. The young ones had not yet stepped onto the true path of cultivation, but this trial—their first taste of real danger—had carved something deeper into their hearts.
For now, they walked back through the forest, wounds bound in glowing petals, carrying thirty blue lotuses. To great cultivators, such a thing might mean nothing. But to their humble village, it was hope, medicine, and survival itself.