The evening sky above Qi Yue slowly faded into shades of orange and violet. The streets were quieter now, the noise of the morning crowd replaced by the sound of the wind brushing against wooden roofs. Jian Wu walked alone, his steps slow and steady, his eyes fixed on the fading horizon.
The laughter of the crowd still echoed faintly in his head. He could still hear the elder's cold words, the whispers, and the pitying looks. His mother's trembling voice. His father's silence. They all blended into one long echo that refused to leave him.
But strangely, Jian Wu did not feel broken. Beneath the weight of shame and exhaustion, something deep inside him stirred. It was faint, like a breath that did not belong to him, whispering from within the emptiness in his chest.
He stopped at a small wooden bridge at the edge of the city. The water below shimmered faintly under the last touch of sunlight. Jian Wu leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the moving water.
"No core, no path… then what am I supposed to do?" he whispered to himself.
His hands clenched. He remembered his own words from earlier that day. If there is no path, I will create one. But how could someone who was born without a core even begin to create something like that?
He placed his palm against his chest. That was where a spirit core should have been. But all he felt was silence. No warmth, no pulse of energy, only emptiness.
Yet, as his fingers pressed against his skin, a strange sensation crawled through him. At first it was cold, then warm, then almost alive. Something faint began to beat inside, slow and irregular, like a weak heart trying to wake up.
Jian Wu froze. His breath caught. The world around him seemed to dissolve, and suddenly he was standing in a dark, endless space.
Everything was silent. There was no ground, no sky, only a single small light floating in the distance. It was neither white nor black, but both at once, swirling together like mist alive with purpose.
Then, from somewhere within that light, came a voice.
"You… finally hear me."
The words were calm, but they carried a weight that made Jian Wu's chest tighten.
He opened his eyes in shock. The bridge, the water, the city, all returned in an instant. His heart was racing, his palms cold.
"Who said that?" he muttered.
No answer came. But the pulse in his chest was still there, faint but steady, as if something inside him had truly awakened.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. The moment he focused, the voice returned, soft and distant.
"The path is not always found outside," it whispered. "Sometimes, it begins from the emptiness within."
Jian Wu stood frozen. He knew now that this was no dream. There was something inside him, something that was not supposed to exist.
"Jian Wu! There you are!"
The shout came from behind him, breaking his focus. He turned and saw Mei Xue running toward him. Her hair was messy, her cheeks red from the cold evening air.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," she said between breaths. "You just disappeared after the test. Everyone is talking about you."
Jian Wu turned his gaze back toward the river. "Let them talk."
Mei Xue hesitated. "You're not angry?"
He smiled faintly. "What's the point? I've been laughed at all my life. Today just made it official."
She looked at him quietly. The way he spoke was different, calmer, but heavier somehow.
"Still," she said softly, "you don't have to face it alone."
Jian Wu's eyes softened for a moment. Then he said, "Something strange happened, Mei Xue. When I was alone just now, I felt something inside me… moving."
Her brows furrowed. "Moving?"
"Yes. Like a heartbeat. But it wasn't mine."
Mei Xue blinked, unsure whether to believe him. "Maybe it's just your imagination. You've been under too much pressure."
"Maybe," Jian Wu replied, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true.
The evening wind blew across the bridge, carrying the scent of wet earth and distant incense from the city temple. For a while, they both stood in silence, listening to the river below. Neither of them noticed the faint shimmer that flickered beneath Jian Wu's skin, a light too soft to be seen.
Night fell over Qi Yue. The city was quiet now, the glow from lanterns flickering like dying fireflies. Jian Wu walked home slowly. His house stood near the edge of the market district, small but warm.
His mother was asleep in the main room, tear marks still fresh on her cheeks. His father sat by the fireplace, staring at the burning embers. He did not look up when Jian Wu entered.
Without a word, Jian Wu went to his room and closed the door behind him. He sat down on the wooden floor, leaning against the wall, his thoughts a storm he could not calm.
Then, just as his breathing began to slow, the whisper returned.
"Emptiness is not weakness," the voice said gently. "It is space waiting to be filled."
He did not understand what it meant, but the words settled in his heart like a seed. For the first time in his life, Jian Wu did not feel completely hollow. There was something inside him now, quiet but alive.
He looked out the small window beside his bed. The moon hung high above the city, silver light spilling through the glass and across his chest. For a moment, the faint pulse beneath his ribs matched the rhythm of the moonlight.
Jian Wu placed a hand over his heart. It was warm now, no longer empty.
That night, he did not sleep. He sat beneath the moon, listening to the silence within him. Somewhere inside that silence, the whisper continued, slow and patient.
And far away, beyond the mountains in the north, an old man with silver hair opened his eyes from meditation. His gaze was sharp as lightning.
"The light has returned," he murmured. "After a hundred years… it awakens again."