The quiet air inside the courtyard thickened as Tao finally gathered the courage to speak. Before he could utter a word, Luo Father turned to him, eyes calm yet shadowed by something deeper.
Without waiting for Tao's question, the man sighed softly and spoke first.
"We know what you wish to ask, Tao. But to be honest with you…"
His voice trailed off for a long breath — one heavy enough to still the wind. His hands clenched faintly, as though gripping something unseen. When he finally continued, his tone carried both reluctance and a quiet weight of guilt.
"…we ourselves know very little about you. Other than your name — Yunkai Tao — and the fact that you are no ordinary child, everything else remains a mystery. Your origin, your bloodline, even how you came to this world… we know nothing beyond what we saw that day."
Both Tao and Luo Tang froze, their eyes wide with disbelief. Tao's lips parted, but no sound came out. For as long as he could remember, he had believed these two — the people who raised him, fed him, and protected him — were the only ones who truly knew his beginning. The realization that even they were blind to his past struck like thunder.
Luo Tang stammered softly, "You mean… even from the start, you didn't know where Brother Tao came from?"
The uncle's gaze dropped. He gave a slow, heavy nod. "Yes. From the very beginning."
At that moment, Luo Aunt stepped forward, her expression soft with motherly affection. Her eyes shimmered faintly as she reached out and touched Tao's cheek with gentle fingers.
"That is true, child," she whispered, her voice trembling with both tenderness and memory. "When I first found you… you were not like any newborn. You were lying inside something — a cocoon of light, shaped like a shell, floating quietly by the stream behind our home. It was as if the heavens themselves had placed you there."
As she spoke, she reached into a wooden chest nearby and carefully drew out a small object, wrapped in layers of silk cloth. Unfolding the fabric, she revealed a strange relic — an oval cocoon no larger than a child's cradle, its surface covered in intricate, flowing patterns that shimmered faintly under the light.
The object was dark golden in color, yet its glow pulsed softly as if breathing. Strange runes intertwined across its surface — not carved, but living, shifting faintly like threads of divine energy. The air around it carried a faint hum, a vibration that seemed both ancient and boundless.
Tao stared, entranced. Within the cocoon's faintly translucent shell, one could only see the vague memory of a form — a child curled in slumber, face serene, untouched by time. Only the Luo Aunt's fingers lingered softly over the small relic, her voice trembling with memory as she continued,
"When we touched it, we tried everything to free you from within… but the moment our hands reached for the cocoon, a strange force stopped us. It was not violent, yet it carried the weight of mountains — a will that refused any approach. The shell itself was alive, glowing faintly in the darkness, its surface moving with countless runes that seemed to breathe. We could neither break it nor move it. Even with all our knowledge, in our entire lives we had never seen such a mysterious object that could carry a newborn child."
The cocoon lay between them now, its surface smooth and cold, the golden luster dulled by time. It looked like a dead thing, lifeless and still, giving off no energy — no light, no pulse, nothing that could hint it once held a living being within.
As the silence deepened, Tao unconsciously reached forward. His fingers brushed against the shell.
In that instant — a faint tremor stirred within him.
His breath halted.
Inside his body, the faint resonance of his Golden, Red, and White protective energies stirred as if answering a forgotten call. The familiar warmth of their power — the same forces that had always risen to protect him from the encroaching darkness — flickered faintly beneath his skin. For a heartbeat, Tao felt the exact same rhythm of power that lived within his blood… echoing from this ancient shell.
It was like touching a long-lost heartbeat — one that had once guarded him, once wrapped him in safety.
Yet the cocoon itself remained still, unresponsive, as if all its life had been spent the day he emerged from it.
Luo Father's deep voice broke the silence. "You feel it too, don't you?"
Tao nodded slowly, still gazing at the faint golden lines. "It's the same… the same warmth that shields me when the dark energy tries to consume me."
After a long pause, he looked up, his voice low but steady. "Then… how did you free me from it? How did you manage to open something like this when it repelled everything?"
Luo Father exchanged a long look with his wife before speaking. His words came slowly, carrying the weight of old struggle.
"At first, we couldn't. For almost a year we tried everything — flame, water, seals, spirit force, even divine herbs to weaken it — yet nothing changed. But in time, we began to understand… this cocoon wasn't just a prison. It was a guardian. It was built to protect you."
He paused, his eyes distant with memory. "And such protection required constant nourishment — energy, or perhaps blood essence, to keep it alive. That was when we realized something strange: the cocoon had its own will. It could sense intention. It would not accept power from anyone who meant harm… but it would resonate with those whose hearts carried no threat."
He exhaled deeply, his voice lowering. "So, we decided to try with our own blood essence. Not to harm it, but to see whether it would respond."
Luo Aunt's eyes softened with both pride and sorrow. "And it did… but not as we expected."
Her fingers trembled as she recalled the memory. "The moment our blood touched its surface, it shone brighter than the sun. The runes flared alive, devouring our essence like a starving beast — not with malice, but with hunger. The cocoon drank our blood and in the same instant, the energy inside it surged, connecting to you. We saw, with our own eyes, the red, white, and golden lights blooming inside the shell, weaving together around your tiny body — forming a shield that crushed the dark energy trying to consume you from within."
Tao's eyes widened slightly. "So… my three energies — they were born from you?"
Luo Father shook his head. "No. They already existed in you, like ancient seeds waiting to awaken. Our blood only became the fuel. The cocoon took what we offered and refined it — turning it into power that merged with yours, strengthening the very energies that opposed the darkness."
He paused, his voice heavy. "But the cost was great. The cocoon drained us completely. We fell unconscious for days, our vitality nearly gone. Afterward, we came here to Luo Peak to recover, and since then, we have repeated this process — feeding our blood essence into you whenever your inner darkness began to stir again. Each time, it consumed us more deeply, and yet each time, we understood more."
Luo Father's voice grew quiet as he lifted his gaze toward the mist-veiled peaks. The soft wind brushed past, carrying with it a faint hum of spiritual resonance, as though the mountain itself listened to his words.
"We came to realize," he said slowly, "that this object… was never meant to be destroyed. It was never a prison, nor a creation of mortal craft. It was meant to choose — to protect, to judge, and perhaps… to awaken what sleeps within you."
He paused, his eyes distant with memory. "For years, we continued the same ritual — offering our blood essence whenever your inner energy stirred beyond control. Each time, the cocoon would drink from us and send its strength into you, maintaining a delicate balance between your body's warring powers. Sometimes it blazed like a small sun, sometimes it grew cold as death, but its intent was always the same — to preserve your existence."
Luo Aunt added softly, "It was as if it understood something we could not — like a guardian acting on the will of the heavens themselves."
The air around them seemed to thicken, as though the world remembered that long-forgotten moment.
Luo Father's eyes grew sharp, voice deep with reverence.
"After many cycles of this — countless times we nearly lost our lives feeding it — there came a day when our blood and its energy reached perfect balance. The light of the cocoon dimmed, then cracked open on its own."
His voice trembled slightly at the memory. "And what we saw within… was you."
Tao's breath caught.
Luo Aunt's eyes shimmered with emotion. "You were lying there, surrounded by fragments of light and shadow. The shell had dissolved into motes of gold and black mist, and your small body was split in strange contrast — a reflection of two opposing forces struggling to coexist within one vessel."
She pressed a hand to her heart, her voice soft and slow, as if the image still haunted her. "From the right side of your chest, five brilliant colors glowed — green, blue, red, white, and golden — each flowing like rivers of living light. The golden one was the strongest, purer than any essence we've ever seen, more supreme than the red and white combined. It did not burn — it commanded. The red and white energies served under it like loyal flames, their radiance bending toward its light. The green and blue, softer in nature, danced around them, weaving balance between the fiery power and the calm flow of life."
Her tone darkened. "But from the left side of your heart… there was only darkness. An eternal, devouring void that pulsed like a living curse. It was not just shadow — it was something deeper, something that existed before light itself. A darkness that did not belong to this world."
Luo Father's brows furrowed, his voice low and heavy.
"The two sides were fighting even then. The five-colored lights constantly surged to protect your right half, while the darkness sought to swallow everything. It was like watching two heavens wage war inside one small body — creation and destruction locked together, neither able to triumph."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes meeting Tao's.
"And that battle has never stopped, Tao. Even now, it still rages within you — a silent storm that shapes your destiny. You feel it, don't you? That endless push and pull in your heart — the warmth that shields you when your power surges, and the cold that rises when your will falters."
Tao nodded slowly, a faint tremor running through him. The truth resonated deeply — he could feel that ceaseless struggle in every breath, every cultivation attempt, every time his thunder essence clashed with the dark current in his veins.
Luo Father exhaled softly, his tone grave yet proud.
"That is your true nature — the eternal balance of creation and oblivion. The cocoon did not just protect you… it tempered you. It ensured neither side would destroy the other. Without it, you would have been consumed before taking your first breath."
Luo Aunt clasped her hands tightly, her eyes dim yet filled with quiet relief. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke,
"Ever since that day, the heavenly thunder that should have brought destruction instead turned into your guide. We were terrified when you triggered it during your breakthrough — everyone thought the heavens would strike you down. But after watching closely, we realized the thunder wasn't your enemy… it was tempering you. It was as if the will of the heavens itself was helping you suppress the black energy within your body."
She took a deep breath, her tone softening as she added, "To think you dared to attract heavenly punishment, just to refine your own power — that plan of yours was dangerous, yet brilliant. Instead of resisting, you turned the wrath of heaven into your weapon."
Luo Father, who had been silent till now, spoke in his calm, steady tone,
"That is your path — your choice. We will not interfere with the road you walk. Our duty is only to observe from afar. If things had spiraled out of control, we would have acted… but only then. Until that point, the fight was yours alone."
His gaze turned distant, his voice heavy with both pride and worry.
"We once feared that the dark energy within you would devour your spirit entirely. But you proved us wrong. By guiding the heavenly thunder into yourself, you balanced the forces of chaos and order. Even the heavens acknowledged your will."
Luo Mother sighed softly, shaking her head. "As for the red and white energies that appeared to aid you… we know nothing certain about them. But we have our suspicions." Her eyes flickered with a mixture of fear and awe. "Their presence wasn't ordinary — it felt ancient, bound by a will beyond mortal comprehension. Their resonance with your body… it wasn't coincidence, Tao. You must have felt it too."
She paused, a hint of helplessness in her expression. "In that moment, we could not help you at all. We had prepared ourselves for the worst. Yet, when those two manifestations — the man of red flame and the woman of white light — appeared beside you, the heavens themselves seemed to bend. They didn't just save you. They restored what we had lost."
Her voice trembled as she continued,
"After purging the corruption within your body, those two energies didn't vanish. They lingered — healing us as well, mending the spiritual wounds we carried for years. Their touch was neither divine nor demonic… it was something purer, something that transcended both."
Luo Father nodded gravely. "To think that such entities would descend for you — it means your fate isn't bound by mortal limits. But such blessings always carry weight. Whatever their true nature is, they have tied their existence to yours."
While listening, Tao remained silent, his eyes thoughtful. The faint glimmer of golden thunder still flickered deep within his pupils — calm, restrained, yet filled with terrifying depth.
He finally nodded lightly, his expression calm, though the weight in his gaze deepened.
"I have some guesses… but nothing certain," he said quietly.
Luo Mother's lips trembled slightly before she spoke again, her voice gentle yet heavy with emotion.
"Tao… I am certain of one thing now. Those two — the man of red flame and the woman of white light — they are not strangers to you. They are your true parents."
Her fingers clutched at her robe as if trying to steady her heart. "From the moment their energies appeared, I felt a resonance that went beyond mere aura. It was the same essence that flows within your blood. Both your father and I sensed it — the unmistakable bond of kinship. It was faint, buried under countless layers of suppression, but once their power flared, the connection between you became clear."
The air grew still. Even the flickering candles around them seemed to quiet.
Tao remained unmoved on the surface, his eyes calm and thoughtful. Deep down, though, the truth did not strike him as surprise — only confirmation of what he had already begun to suspect. Since the moment the two radiant figures appeared, a strange familiarity had stirred within him — not memory, but instinct, as if his soul recognized what his mind could not.
But Luo Tang, who stood beside him, was visibly shaken. His eyes widened, disbelief flooding his face.
"B–Brother Tao's… real parents?" His voice cracked. "Then those beings weren't illusions or spirits — they were alive?"
Luo Father, who had been silent all this while, finally spoke, his voice low and steady like distant thunder.
"If your mother is right — and I believe she is — then the man of red flame you saw that day was your father, and the woman of white light… your mother."
He looked toward Tao with grave calm, his gaze filled with both pride and concern. "Their energies were not ordinary. Each carried the mark of origin — divine yet restrained, as though they acted under an unseen will. I suspect their powers are guided, perhaps even governed, by something far higher — the golden energy that has now begun to awaken within you. Golden and darkness stand as perfect opposites. If your parents' powers move under the golden's guidance, then the one assisting you now must be a being tied to your bloodline — someone who watches over you through that sacred energy."
He paused, letting the words sink in before his tone hardened.
"As for the black energy…"
Luo Mother continued softly, her eyes darkened with sorrow. "That darkness is the true curse — the reason for all your suffering. We believe it was not born within you but forced upon you at birth. It feels like a foreign power, injected into your body before your first breath. Whatever or whoever did that must have known your potential… and sought to destroy it before it could bloom."
She clenched her fists, her voice trembling with barely restrained grief.
"The black energy fused too deeply with your essence. Even your parents — despite their unmatched strength — could not remove it. To force it out would have crippled you, perhaps even ended your life before it began. So instead, they sealed it, suppressing it within your body and sealing you inside that mysterious object to protect your life."
Her gaze softened as she looked at Tao, as if seeing both the child she raised and the mystery he carried.
"The time of that sealing… we cannot determine. On the surface, you appear no older than fifteen years, but in truth — we don't know how long you've truly slept. It could be years… or an era."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Only the faint hum of Tao's internal energy filled the space — the golden thunder flickering faintly beneath his skin, calm yet incomprehensibly deep.
Tao finally raised his head, his voice quiet but unwavering.
"So… my birth itself was bound in darkness, and my life sealed away to protect what remained of light."
Luo Father nodded slowly, his voice low and solemn.
"Yes. And the balance between those forces — golden, black, red, and white — will decide not just your path… but perhaps the fate of everything your parents once guarded."
The room fell silent. The candlelight flickered gently, its glow reflecting in Tao's calm yet distant eyes. For the first time in many years, the fog that shrouded his heart seemed to thin. The endless uncertainty — the questions of his origin, the loneliness that haunted every breath — now found form and meaning.
He could feel his heartbeat steadying, each thump echoing like a quiet promise. His chest, once heavy with doubt, now carried a strange peace. The void inside him that had long ached with questions now had direction — a thread of truth to follow.
Tao exhaled softly, and his voice, calm but edged with a faint tremor of longing, broke the silence.
"Uncle… Aunt…" He paused, his eyes lifting to meet theirs. "Do you think… my parents are still alive?"
The question hung in the air, quiet yet immense — a child's longing wrapped in a man's composure.
Luo Mother's gaze softened. For a moment, emotion rippled across her serene face. She folded her hands gently, her tone carrying the weight of both awe and helplessness.
"Tao… to be honest, from our current level of strength, comparing ourselves to your parents is like comparing a candle's flame to the light of the sun."
She looked toward the faint shimmer of golden lightning that pulsed beneath Tao's skin. "What we witnessed during that day was not their full power — only a fragment, a cluster of what remains. Yet even that was enough to shake the heavens. So, though we cannot confirm where they are… one thing we are certain of."
Her eyes met his firmly.
"Your parents are alive."
Tao's breath caught. The words struck deeper than any sword.
Luo Mother continued softly, her voice trembling as if she were touching a sacred truth.
"We could still feel their energies — not fading, not broken, but existing beyond the reach of mortal sight. Their essence is still bound to this world. It is not the faint echo of departed souls returning to the cycle of rebirth, nor the last trace of a dying will. It is presence — living, enduring, waiting."
She paused, as though listening to something unseen. "Their power does not move like a spirit's echo. It breathes — steady, constant. That means their will has not dispersed. They have not entered reincarnation. Somewhere, in some form, they endure. Perhaps sealed, perhaps bound, but not gone."
Luo Father's deep voice joined hers, steady as a mountain.
"The heavens may have scattered their strength, but their essence remains whole. As long as that golden thread exists within you, they cannot truly perish. The connection between parent and child is not something time or distance can sever. If you walk your path to its end… that bond will lead you to them."
Tao's hands slowly clenched at his sides. His gaze lowered for a moment, then rose with quiet determination.
"So they live…" he murmured, more to himself than anyone. "Then my path is clear."
He looked up, eyes burning softly like stormlight trapped in calm waters. "Until now, I walked without knowing why — only driven by instinct, by the need to grow stronger. But now I understand. My strength is not for survival alone. It's for the day I find them… for the day I learn why they vanished and why darkness was forced into me."
Luo Mother smiled faintly through the sheen of emotion in her eyes. "Then you have found your direction, Tao. The heavens themselves seem to have chosen you. But remember — fate's light burns bright only for those who dare to walk through its shadows."
The room grew still once more. The faint hum of golden thunder within Tao's body pulsed softly, harmonizing with his heartbeat. He felt the warmth of his guardians' presence around him, their faith forming an invisible strength that settled deep within his soul.
For the first time since awakening, Tao felt whole — not because his journey had ended, but because he now knew where it must begin.