The morning sun rose over the eastern peaks of Qingyun Mountain, its golden light spilling across the roofs of the Xu Clan estate, casting long, soft shadows upon the jade-like courtyards. Birds chirped in rhythmic harmony, yet within the grand hall of the Xu Clan residence, a different melody of tension and anticipation stirred. Xu Xuan lay upon a lacquered wooden bed, his long, black hair cascading over the silken pillow like a river of midnight ink. His eyes fluttered open slowly, as though the very act of awakening required the consent of his body and soul. Outside, the soft rustle of wind through the bamboo courtyard whispered faintly, yet the chamber itself felt as still as a tomb, imbued with a calm that bordered on reverent.
The young cultivator lifted himself carefully, sensing a familiar pressure in his chest—his dantian. Once shattered, now whole, yet different, it throbbed with a strange resonance, like a drum echoing in the void. He could feel the latent power within him, not yet fully tamed, yet capable of supporting his cultivation in ways he had never known. Xu Xuan's gaze fell upon the small desk beside him, where a collection of ink brushes and scrolls lay untouched, a testament to the days lost in unconsciousness. He inhaled slowly, his mind a quiet storm of wonder and reflection, remembering the moments before the collapse—Yuan Heng's concerned face, the sudden appearance of the nameless scripture, and the choice that had been placed before him.
The memory of that sacred moment in the spiritual void returned vividly. The scripture, unadorned, nameless, had hovered before him, its presence neither warm nor cold, simply observing. Xu Xuan had felt its probing gaze sweep through the deepest recesses of his soul. Only after his determination, perseverance, and the sincerity of his effort were laid bare within the tapestry of his memories did the scripture acknowledge him. In black-and-purple ink-like symbols, words appeared before him:
"I recognize thee, Xu Xuan, as the first heir of this inheritance. The void shall yield to thee alone. Speak of this to none, not even those closest to thy heart. Guard the secret, for in its revelation lies peril."
A shiver of solemnity had run through him. The scripture had shown him the first fragment of the void inheritance—a glimpse of fifteen other void techniques, yet none unlocked, all sealed until he reached the Wu Zhe realm. The very void itself had trembled as the scripture withdrew, leaving him in a shimmering holo-purple space where fissures of light etched the contours of future power. There, his dantian had been repaired, yet not merely repaired—it had been remade, infused with the essence of the void itself. He now possessed a foundation unlike any ordinary cultivator: a dantian that would serve as the anchor of his destiny, a silent partner to his burgeoning strength.
Xu Xuan stretched lightly, the silk of his robes rustling softly. He rose from the bed, pacing through the chamber, feeling the energy pulse and hum within him. Though he had not yet mastered the inheritance, even a simple circulation of Qi brought a thrill of exhilaration. Each breath, each careful movement, was infused with the subtle rhythm of void energy, waiting to be awakened through patience and effort. He allowed himself a small, wry smile. "It seems the path ahead is long, yet at last… it begins."
At that precise moment, a soft shuffling came from the doorway. Turning, Xu Xuan found his father, Xu Ling, standing there with a faint smile, his robes loose and his hair still tousled from the morning wind. "Xuan'er," he said, his voice carrying both warmth and a hint of teasing, "finally awake. Sleep enough to dream of becoming a true cultivator, or merely of eating my soup before breakfast?"
Xu Xuan chuckled lightly, his voice carrying a confidence that had been absent before. "Father, the sleep was long, yet I feel… lighter, as if the burden in my chest has been lifted." He paused, glancing at his dantian. "…And my dantian… it has been restored."
Xu Ling's eyes widened in mild astonishment. "Restored? That broken thing? Ha! Perhaps the heavens themselves have decided to keep your stubbornness alive, boy. Still, it is no small feat to recover a dantian. Yet you do not tell me… by whose hand?"
Xu Xuan's lips curved into a faint, mysterious smile, yet he chose his words carefully. "It is… a gift from forces beyond my understanding. A matter best left untold for now. I will prove it through my actions, father."
Xu Ling chuckled heartily, placing a strong hand on his son's shoulder. "Always speaking in riddles, eh, Xu Xuan? Just as your mother feared, you'll drive the elders mad with your silence."
As father and son exchanged words, a subtle shift in the air caused both to glance toward the eastern side of the hall. A faint shimmer manifested near the corner of the courtyard—a ripple of soul energy, faint yet undeniable. From within the ripple, a figure began to materialize, coalescing into the familiar form of Yuan Heng. His presence carried a weight of power that immediately commanded attention, though his countenance remained calm, almost casual.
"Xuan'er's teacher, at last arrives," Xu Ling muttered under his breath, more curious than concerned.
Yuan Heng's gaze swept over Xu Ling, nodding once, courteously. "Xu Ling, I presume?" His tone was measured, respectful, yet carried an unmistakable authority. "I am Yuan Heng, disciple of the Eternal Spirit Sect, and teacher to your son. I apologize for this intrusion, but it was necessary."
Xu Ling's brow furrowed slightly before relaxing into an amiable smile. "No need for apologies, Master… teacher, I suppose. You are welcome. Xu Xuan has returned in good health, I see?"
Xu Xuan stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Father, Teacher." The words carried both filial respect and the faintest trace of amusement. "Teacher has guided me in matters that even I do not yet fully comprehend. I am fortunate."
Yuan Heng inclined his head toward the boy, an expression of subtle pride and approval. "Xu Xuan possesses rare resolve. His growth shall not be hindered by conventional limits. Yet patience is required; haste will only spoil the refinement of body, mind, and spirit."
The conversation flowed easily after that, informal yet rich with the weight of cultivation knowledge. Xu Ling marveled at the teacher's insight, occasionally chuckling at Xu Xuan's modest, almost playful responses. The father's warmth toward both his son and teacher created a rare moment of serenity within the vast halls of the Xu estate—a brief haven before the trials that lay ahead.
Days passed, each slow, deliberate, filled with quiet training and subtle teachings. Yuan Heng instructed Xu Xuan not only in martial cultivation but also in alchemy. The young cultivator's hands learned the precise movements required to measure rare herbs, to stir elixirs without disturbing their spiritual essence, and to ignite the subtle transformations that turned base ingredients into potent elixirs. Xu Xuan progressed steadily, mastering Grade One pills and elixirs, each creation a reflection of his careful attention to detail and the slowly awakening influence of the void inheritance within him.
Yet not all instruction was gentle. Yuan Heng's methods often tested Xu Xuan's resolve in unexpected ways. He would send the boy into the courtyard at dawn, to balance energy circulation and Qi alignment, only to watch silently from the nearby ring, observing as Xu Xuan struggled with fatigue and imbalance. When mistakes were made, Yuan Heng would laugh softly, a sound like wind through hollow bamboo. "Brat," he would call, using the teasing moniker he had given Xu Xuan, "do you intend to collapse before even grasping the basics? The void does not forgive carelessness, yet you persist. That persistence is your true strength."
Xu Xuan would wipe sweat from his brow, feeling both chagrined and invigorated. "Teacher… I will correct it. I… understand now."
Yuan Heng merely smiled, a glimmer of pride in his eyes, and allowed the boy to continue, ever aware of the careful balance between guidance and challenge.
Nights were dedicated to solitary cultivation. Xu Xuan would enter his spiritual sea, where the nameless void inheritance lay dormant yet observant, circulating Qi and void energy in slow, deliberate patterns. He traced each movement with care, ensuring every pulse of power resonated in harmony with the foundation of his body. Though the inheritance remained silent, its presence was unmistakable; a faint pressure pressed against his consciousness, as if testing his patience and resolve.
Weeks passed in this manner, filled with alchemy, body refinement, and void exercises. Xu Xuan's strength increased steadily, measured not merely in cultivation stages but in control over his Qi, the precision of his alchemical creations, and the subtle resonance of his body with the void itself. The bond with his teacher grew, informal yet deeply rooted in mutual respect. Yuan Heng's laughter and occasional teasing became a familiar cadence in Xu Xuan's days, a reminder that growth was both a trial and a delight.
On one particularly clear morning, Xu Ling approached his son in the courtyard, a rare twinkle in his eyes. "Xuan'er, you seem… different. Lighter in step, keener in mind. Has the teacher been especially harsh, or… has something happened while I was away?"
Xu Xuan inclined his head, smiling faintly. "Father, the dantian… it is as you wished, fully restored. I have felt its strength, and… I am learning, slowly, as Teacher guides me. One day, I will no longer need him at my side."
Xu Ling laughed softly, placing a hand upon the boy's shoulder. "Good. That is the way of the cultivator. Dependence is for the weak; strength is for those who dare to endure."
As the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows over the courtyard, Xu Xuan closed his eyes briefly, feeling the flow of Qi and void energy, the essence of herbs from his alchemical experiments, and the quiet presence of his teacher's gaze. In that moment, the world seemed to contract into the rhythm of his own pulse, each beat a step toward mastery, each breath a tether to destiny.
He would not know yet the trials that awaited in the forests, nor the beasts of higher realm that would test his resolve. He would not yet confront the six-year agreement that would define the next stage of his life. But here, in these quiet halls, beneath the watchful eyes of his father and teacher, Xu Xuan took the first true steps into the journey that would shape him, forging the foundation for all that was to come.