The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth from the terraces. Lan Gu returned to the courtyard, his mind still replaying the previous day's practice. The faint spark he had raised—the first thread of star energy he had truly controlled—lingered in memory like an echo. He wanted to refine it, to understand its patterns further, but today promised something new: interaction with other children, a rare event in Star-Hollow.
The elder, Master Chen, had summoned two boys known for their unusual talent. One of them, a broad-shouldered child named Bai Heng, was already striding across the courtyard. His hair was tied back carelessly, and his boots struck the stones with confident force. A faint trail of energy shimmered around him, barely contained. Where Lan Gu had measured, observed, and calculated, Bai Heng relied on sheer will and brute control of his star energy.
The other child, quiet and wiry, followed behind, eyes darting nervously. He seemed to observe both Lan Gu and Bai Heng, but spoke little.
Master Chen's voice rang out, cutting through the mist. "Today you will test your abilities together. Not alone. Your task is simple: control the threads of energy in this courtyard while maintaining harmony with your peers. Sparks will form only if your movements align. Disharmony will collapse them."
The children exchanged glances. Lan Gu observed silently, noting the tension in Bai Heng's posture, the fear in the wiry boy's eyes, the subtle pulse of the stone beneath his own hands.
"You will begin," Master Chen said. "Step into the circle."
Bai Heng leapt in immediately, slapping his palms against the stone with force. Sparks erupted around him, dancing violently. He grinned broadly, chest heaving. "Ha! Watch and learn!" he shouted.
The wiry boy followed, tentative. The sparks he produced were weaker, flickering inconsistently, collapsing as quickly as they appeared. His fear showed clearly in every pulse of energy, every misstep.
Lan Gu stepped forward last. He crouched low, fingers brushing the stone surface. He closed his eyes. The courtyard's energy flowed around him like water, the invisible currents shifting with the movement of the others. He did not push, did not force. He observed.
He felt Bai Heng's overexertion as resistance in the courtyard's flow. He detected the wiry boy's hesitation as slight turbulence in the threads. Then, he allowed the energy to move naturally around him, redirecting each minor disturbance with subtle movements of his body and focused thought.
A single, steady thread of silver light rose from the center of the courtyard, wrapping gently around Lan Gu's hands before extending outward, connecting briefly to the sparks of the other two children. The glow held, steady and pure, even as Bai Heng's uncontrolled energy faltered and the wiry boy's collapsed.
The villagers who had gathered at the edge gasped. Few had seen sparks so stable, even among older children.
Bai Heng's grin faltered. He stared at Lan Gu, disbelief crossing his features. "How…?"
Lan Gu opened his eyes. "You are pushing," he said simply. "You force the energy to obey you. It resists. Watch the thread, not the flame. Let it follow the path it wants."
Bai Heng scowled, but there was something in Lan Gu's calm tone that unsettled him. The wiry boy looked on, wide-eyed, unsure whether to envy or fear the younger boy.
Master Chen stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes shone with quiet astonishment. "Remarkable. At seven years old, Lan Gu is already able to harmonize the threads of others' energies with his own. This… has never been observed in a child so young."
Lan Gu did not smile. He was already calculating the next pattern, the next potential source of interference, the ways in which he could refine the spark further. His mind treated each pulse of energy as a problem to solve, a pattern to unravel, a law to follow.
Bai Heng clenched his fists. "I can do better," he muttered, stepping forward again, slapping the stone harder this time. Sparks flew violently, scattering across the courtyard. The wiry boy screamed as a weak surge knocked him backward.
Lan Gu sighed softly, closing his eyes again. He adjusted his posture, aligning his breathing, and allowed the energy to flow naturally. The sparks of Bai Heng's attack were absorbed into the thread surrounding Lan Gu's hands, calmed and reorganized. A steady beam of silver extended outward again, stronger this time, forming an invisible barrier of order amid chaos.
Bai Heng froze, watching. "What… what are you doing?"
"You are unbalanced," Lan Gu said. "Control comes not from force, but from understanding. Each thread has a path. Push against it, and it resists. Guide it, and it flows."
For a moment, Bai Heng seemed to hesitate. Then he gritted his teeth, attempting again. Sparks erupted, larger this time, but Lan Gu adjusted again, redirecting them subtly, smoothing the chaotic energy until the courtyard's light shone uniformly, almost as if controlled by a single mind.
Master Chen's hands trembled slightly as he observed. "Lan Gu… you are not merely a child of talent. You see the structures others cannot. If he continues like this, he may surpass many who are older and stronger."
The wiry boy, watching from the side, seemed to shrink under Lan Gu's calm mastery. Fear, awe, and admiration mingled in his wide eyes.
When Master Chen finally called the exercise to a close, Lan Gu released his focus. The courtyard fell silent, the remaining sparks fading gently into the stones. He breathed slowly, counting the pulses of energy still lingering faintly in the air, storing them in memory.
Bai Heng stepped back, face flushed with frustration and something else—curiosity, maybe even respect. He muttered under his breath, "This isn't fair… how can he control it all?"
Lan Gu said nothing. He had no desire to argue, to boast, or to claim victory. Observation and understanding were enough. He had measured every variable, felt the subtle laws guiding the sparks, and learned something no one else could.
As the children walked home that afternoon, the mist lifting and the sun painting the valley gold, Lan Gu felt a quiet thrill. He had discovered a fundamental truth: control was not power alone, but pattern, patience, and perception.
The pillar of light from the previous day—the rare breakthrough to the Eighth Star—had not simply shown raw strength. It had shown mastery, a perfect understanding of forces most could not perceive. Lan Gu understood, even as a child, that this was what separated the gifted from the truly exceptional.
And though he was only seven, he began to calculate every step of the road ahead, every pattern he would need to recognize, every thread he would need to guide.
One day, I will follow that light. And when I do, it will obey me.
The valley lay quiet, but the spark inside the boy was already alive, already thinking, already planning. The first test of strength was over, but the real journey—the path toward the stars—was only beginning.