Snow drifted over the Wilson Family compound, coating rooftops, practice yards, and stone walkways in a thick white blanket. The winter air seeped into every corner, chilling breath and numbing fingers, but inside the birthing house the lantern glow softened the cold. A small brazier radiated mild heat, and the steady crackle of its coals was the only sound breaking the stillness.
Sarah Wilson lay back on a low bed, exhausted but steady, her dark hair damp with sweat. In her arms rested her newborn son, a tiny bundle wrapped in soft cloth. He made small, uneven noises, too tired to cry fully but not ready to sleep either.
"Easy," Sarah whispered, stroking his cheek with a finger. "You've already had a long day."
The midwife, an older woman named Mrs. Grant, adjusted the blanket around the infant before stepping away to clean her tools. "He's healthy," she said. "Stubborn little thing, but nothing unusual."
Sarah let out a shaky breath. "Good."
A moment later the door slid open, letting in a sharp current of cold. Ethan Wilson hurried inside, shutting the door quickly behind him. Snowflakes clung to his boots and shoulders, and he dusted them off before moving to his wife's side.
"How is he?" Ethan asked, leaning closer.
"See for yourself." Sarah lifted the baby just enough for him to look.
Ethan's face softened. He reached out, somewhat clumsy, and Sarah eased the baby into his arms. The infant squirmed, opened his eyes briefly, then settled again.
"He looks…" Ethan paused, studying the small face. "Like a normal kid."
Sarah sighed. "Is that your expert analysis?"
Ethan grinned. "I mean it in the best way. He seems calm. Healthy."
"No strange qi fluctuations," Mrs. Grant added from across the room. "No unusual pulse points. Everything aligns with a standard newborn."
Sarah looked relieved. "Perfect."
The midwife approached with a wooden ledger, paper thin and stiff from years of use. "I'll need his name."
Sarah and Ethan shared a look.
"Caleb," they said together.
Mrs. Grant wrote it down with steady strokes.
Name: Caleb Wilson
Clan: Wilson
Birth Rank: Outer Branch
Cultivation Aptitude Test: Pending
Initial Assessment: Normal
She closed the book and bowed lightly. "Congratulations. I'll leave you two alone."
As the door closed behind her, Sarah slumped back against her pillow. "She could've just said average."
Ethan shrugged. "Normal is better than 'problematic.' Remember Aaron's kid? Born with unstable qi flow. He still faints every time he tries to cultivate."
Sarah winced. "Good point. I'll take normal."
Ethan held Caleb carefully, rocking him a little. "He's lighter than I expected."
"Most babies are," Sarah said.
"I know, but…" Ethan hesitated. "He feels delicate."
Sarah smirked. "And you expected a future martial artist to pop out doing push-ups?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
Ethan laughed quietly, shaking his head. "All right, all right. He's perfect the way he is." He leaned down and kissed Caleb's forehead before handing him back to Sarah. "The elders will want to know he arrived safely. I'll inform them."
"Don't forget to mention he's healthy," Sarah said.
"I won't."
"And don't let them pressure us into an early aptitude test. He's a newborn."
"I'll keep it simple," Ethan promised.
He left, letting a gust of cold wind slip in before the door shut again. Caleb twitched in response, his expression scrunching up.
"You heard your father," Sarah murmured. "You're perfect."
She held him closer, resting her chin lightly atop his head. Caleb relaxed, breathing softly, his small hand pressed against her shirt.
Minutes passed quietly.
A gentle knock broke the stillness before the door slid open again. This time, it was Sarah's younger sister, Emily. She carried a basket filled with folded cloth, scented herbs, and a small stuffed bear made of spirit cotton.
"He's here?" Emily whispered, eyes widening as she approached.
Sarah nodded. "Want to meet him?"
Emily leaned closer. "Let me see that face."
Caleb blinked up at her with unfocused eyes, then let out a tiny sneeze.
"Oh my goodness," Emily said, clutching her chest. "That's the cutest thing I've ever seen."
Sarah chuckled. "He sneezes like his father."
"That poor child," Emily teased.
Caleb made a soft moan, stretching his fingers.
Sarah looked down at him with a tired smile. "He's calmer now."
"He's a Wilson," Emily said. "We're known for coming out loud and then sleeping for days."
Sarah laughed softly. "I hope he sleeps soon."
Emily placed the basket on a small table and straightened carefully. "Everyone's asking about him. I told them he's healthy and you're both fine."
"Thank you."
"You should rest," Emily said. "Do you want me to stay?"
"No, go home. You've been here half the day already."
Emily kissed Sarah's forehead and gently touched Caleb's hand before leaving quietly.
The room fell silent again.
Sarah felt her eyes growing heavy. She cradled Caleb a little tighter and began humming a slow tune their mother used to sing. Caleb's breathing became steady, his small body warm against her chest.
Outside, winter winds rattled the shutters. Somewhere in the distance, a group of younger disciples finished their training drills. Their instructor dismissed them, and their chatter drifted faintly on the wind.
Life in the Wilson Family compound carried on without pause.
Nothing about Caleb's birth drew attention. No elders rushed to inspect him. No cultivators sensed anything unusual. No one outside the household had any reason to believe this child would ever rise above anyone else his age.
Sarah adjusted her grip and looked down at him again.
"You're going to grow up surrounded by so many expectations," she murmured. "Cultivation lessons, endurance training, spiritual tests… all the things our family does."
She touched his cheek lightly.
"But even if you struggle, even if you fall behind, you'll have us. That's enough."
Caleb stretched, his expression scrunching for a moment before he settled again.
The door opened quietly, and Ethan returned, rubbing his hands together to warm them. "The elders know. They said congratulations. Elder Mason asked whether we think Caleb will start training early."
Sarah snorted. "Tell him to train his own grandkids."
Ethan sat beside her. "He'll ask again tomorrow."
"No doubt," Sarah said. "But Caleb's not going anywhere near cultivation training until he's at least five."
"Agreed."
Ethan leaned in to look at his son again. "He looks peaceful."
"He is."
Ethan brushed a thumb across Caleb's blanket. "He didn't cry much while I was gone?"
"No," Sarah said. "He's content."
"Like his mother."
"And stubborn like you."
Ethan grinned. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."
Sarah shook her head with a faint smile. Caleb yawned, opening his mouth wide before relaxing again.
"He's tired," she whispered.
"It's been quite a day," Ethan said.
Sarah shifted slightly, careful not to jostle the baby. "Do you think the aptitude test will be necessary soon?"
"Probably," Ethan admitted. "Most families test spirit roots at three or four months. But whether he has low, average, or high talent… we'll deal with it."
Sarah nodded. "As long as he's healthy."
Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be fine."
The room grew quiet again as the lanternlight flickered. Snow tapped softly against the windows. The Wilson Family compound quieted as night settled fully, disciples finishing their routines and heading indoors.
Inside the birthing room, Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, resting with Caleb sleeping soundly against her. Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, looking between his wife and son with a tired but content expression.
Caleb didn't stir again.
He didn't cry.
He didn't twitch.
He didn't react to the sounds outside.
He slept like any newborn would—completely unaware of the expectations the cultivation world placed on every child born into it.
He was not a genius.
He was not a prodigy.
He was not a disappointment.
He was simply a boy.
A child born into an ordinary branch of an ordinary family, in a world where extraordinary things existed far away from him.
For now, that was enough.
Ethan rose quietly and dimmed the lantern a little. "Get some rest," he told his wife. "I'll stay here."
Sarah nodded sleepily.
Caleb didn't wake as the night deepened outside.
And, in a house nestled inside the snowy Wilson Family compound, a life began in the most simple, quiet way.
Nothing extraordinary.
Nothing strange.
Nothing memorable.
Just a child.
That was all.