The courtyard beneath the star-birch trees rustled with whispers and restless feet.
Seven children, barely taller than the stone benches, had been gathered by the clan.
Liangfeng tried to stand straight, though dust already smudged the hem of his robe.
Chenrui marched in uneven circles, crimson eyes flickering like they couldn't sit still.
Qingxian sat cross-legged on the steps, head tilted as if listening to something no one else could hear.
Liangjun folded his arms, steady as stone.
Wen tugged at his sash until it was crooked.
Hanrui clasped his hands too tightly behind his back.
Qingyi's eyes moved from face to face, lips pressed shut as if she meant to keep them all inside her memory.
They were the seven prodigies whispered about—yet just then, they were only children, trying not to look nervous.
"Who's the strongest?" Chenrui burst out, puffing his chest. "Obviously me."
Wen snorted so hard he hiccuped. "You? You tripped in the hall yesterday."
Chenrui's ears went red. "That was strategy!"
"No it wasn't," Qingxian murmured, soft as falling snow.
Chenrui opened his mouth, then shut it with a huff. "Still stronger than you."
Liangjun's chin lifted. "Strength isn't noisy."
"So you're saying it's you?" Chenrui squinted.
"I didn't say that."
"Yes you did."
Before the quarrel could spark, Qingyi spoke in her careful, even tone. "We're meant to be ten. But we are only seven."
The words hushed them. Even Liangfeng's composure slipped a fraction.
"Maybe the others are older," Wen guessed, his voice a hopeful tremor.
Qingxian shook her head, silver threads in her hair catching the light. "No. They'll walk the same years as us. That's how it must be."
Chenrui seized on the thought with a grin. "Then if they're weaklings, we'll still be the real Golden Ones!"
"Or stronger than you," Liangjun countered.
Chenrui froze, bravado faltering—before crossing his arms again. "…Then I'll beat them tomorrow. Easy."
That cracked the tension. Laughter spilled out—some too loud, some soft as ripples. They were prodigies, but still children, guessing at mysteries bigger than them.
The laughter died when a Core Elder stepped into the courtyard, robes stitched with constellations. His gaze alone pressed their knees together.
"You are seven," he said. "But the circle is ten. The others will join you soon. For now—walk together."
He lifted his hand. A gate of light bloomed, opening on misted cliffs.
With clumsy straightening, half-grins, and frowns, the children stepped through.
Mist drifted through Hidden Veil Valley, cool against their cheeks.
Ten small houses circled a spirit spring glowing silver-blue.
Seven children stumbled out, some rushing, some staring.
"Woah…" Wen breathed, too loud.
Chenrui puffed his chest. "I said it first."
"You didn't!" Wen shoved him.
A laugh rang out. "You two are silly."
By the spring stood a boy with a wooden spear and a girl with twin bouncing tails of hair.
The boy bowed, voice calm. "I am Li Shen. This is my sister, Li Mei."
Mei grinned wide, waving both hands. "Hi! Are you our cousins? You look fun." Her eyes darted over them—Liangfeng's quiet poise, Chenrui's glowing eyes, Qingxian's silver threads. "Oooh, you're shiny."
Chenrui brightened. "See? She thinks so."
Mei cocked her head. "Not you. Her." She pointed to Qingxian. "You're just loud."
Laughter burst. Chenrui's jaw dropped.
Shen sighed, steady as stone. "Ignore her. She talks too much."
"I do not!" Mei huffed. Then spun, frowning. "But wait. That's only nine. Where's the last one?"
The others turned. Curiosity prickled.
"…Here."
From the mist stepped a boy in plain white, smaller than most. His eyes lowered shyly, but something shimmered within them—too many colors at once, shifting like hidden light.
He bowed, voice careful. "Ye Xuan."
The nine studied him—curious, unimpressed, amused.
Chenrui crossed his arms. "Too small. Can he even fight?"
Xuan's hands fidgeted at his sleeves.
Mei planted herself before him. "He can if he wants. We'll see."
Liangjun's voice cut through, calm and absolute. "It doesn't matter. We're ten now."
The words settled like a stone dropped in water.
The spring gurgled. Beneath it, the Bloodline Vein hummed, deeper—as if the mountain itself knew the circle was whole.
Energy buzzed between them. Rivalry brewed.
Chenrui's crimson eyes slid toward the quiet boy in white. Ye Xuan stood smaller than the rest, gaze lowered, hands fidgeting at his sleeves.
Chenrui smirked. "Hmph. He doesn't even look strong." He stepped forward, chest puffed. "Then let's see. One move against me—prove you belong."
Xuan blinked. "Fight…?"
"Scared?" Chenrui teased. "If you win, I'll call you Big Brother."
Laughter rippled. Even Liangfeng's lips twitched.
Xuan's shoulders tightened. Walk as a whisper, Master Qianlan had told him. Bravery is sometimes standing still, Father had said.
Chenrui lunged, fast but clumsy.
Xuan shifted barely—tap.
Chenrui tumbled in a heap of dust.
Laughter exploded.
"You lost!" Wen crowed.
"Not even close," Mei teased.
Chenrui scrambled up, red-faced. "Didn't count! Again!"
He charged. Xuan stepped aside, hooked a foot. Thump. Down again.
The laughter doubled.
"Two moves, two falls," Liangjun observed.
"Not even two," Qingxian corrected softly.
Chenrui's jaw tightened, though he forced a grin. "Hmph. Fine, you got me this time. But don't get comfortable—I'll beat you soon."
Xuan ducked his head, smiling faintly. "Maybe. Not today."
The laughter softened, warmer. Rivals began to feel like cousins.
The dust hadn't settled when Wen stepped forward, fists tight.
Wen clenched his fists, cheeks glowing red. "My turn! Chenrui lost too quick — I'll do better!"
Golden light sparked in his pupils—Heaven's Sight. "Now I see everything! You can't fool me!"
The spring's surface rippled.
Wen darted in, eyes sharp, tracking every twitch—
But knowing wasn't enough.
Xuan moved. A soft tap on Wen's shoulder. His legs tangled. Down he went.
Silence.
Then Mei collapsed into laughter. "Two falls! Twins!"
Qingyi tilted her head. "He didn't even try hard."
Liangjun's gaze narrowed. "He moved faster than Heaven's Sight could follow. That shouldn't happen."
Chenrui nodded solemnly. "Told you he's strong. Stronger than me—for now."
Hanrui's voice was calm, steady. "If one move ends it, more power won't change the end."
Xuan's cheeks warmed. His head lowered. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just… moved."
Nine pairs of eyes studied him. Too small, too quiet—yet their gifts had fallen clumsy beside him.
Mei clapped her hands anyway. "He's strong! Really strong!"
Chenrui barked back instantly. "Strong, sure—but not the strongest. Not forever!"
Liangjun's gaze stayed steady. "What matters is he beat both of you."
Qingyi tilted her head, voice careful. "We can't deny that much."
The words lingered. The spring shimmered silver-blue. The mountain hummed again, quiet approval in its bones.
For a breath, the air was still. Wen sat rubbing his elbow, cheeks puffed like he might burst. Chenrui muttered under his breath about "slippery feet." Mei snorted, failing to hold it in, and pointed. "You both fell the same way! Like toppled turnips!"
Even Wen cracked a reluctant grin. Chenrui tried to stay serious, but his lips twitched.
That was enough. The tension broke.
Laughter rose once more—uneven, childish, real. For the first time, ten voices tangled together in the valley night.
From the shade of the spirit trees, the Core Elder had watched it all. His arms were folded, gaze caught somewhere between amusement and appraisal. Their scuffles were childish, yes—but the flashes of instinct, the sparks of pride, the weight of bloodlines stirring beneath laughter… none of it escaped him.
At last he spoke, his voice calm but carrying through the valley. "Enough for today. Tomorrow, your official training begins. For now—explore your dwellings. Learn the place that will be your home."
The children stilled, eyes turning toward him. Then, as if released from invisible strings, they scattered—some racing toward the houses, others trailing behind, wide-eyed at the glowing spring.
The elder gave one last faint smile, half amused, half impressed, before turning away. His robes stirred softly as he vanished into the mist, leaving the valley to their voices.