Xan Li Fang crossed the threshold, stepping entirely into the domicile, yet the silence that greeted him was not an embrace, but an asphyxiating shroud. It pressed relentlessly against his auditory senses, effectively dampening the cacophony of the external world and muffling the vibrant hum of the metropolis. His mismatched gaze drifted toward the bed where his mother, Yuan, lay motionless beneath the thick, patched quilt; she was curled laterally, facing the wall—a posture she frequently adopted when her geriatric joints were inflamed with agony. "Mother must be slumbering," he whispered to the shadows, instinctively elevating himself onto the balls of his feet to navigate the creaking floorboards with spectral silence. "I must not disturb her repose, for she has labored arduously today." Proceeding to the kitchenette, he minimized his acoustic footprint, lifting the lid of the battered aluminum vessel to reveal steam spiraling upward, carrying the redolence of simple vegetable broth and rice. Though the sustenance was savory, seasoned with the maternal affection she invariably poured into their meager repasts, Xan scarcely registered its flavor, his intellect already gravitating toward the academic accumulation on his desk.
"I require that scholarship to circumvent our destitution; I must conquer the entrance examinations." He cleansed his bowl in silence and settled at his desk, illuminating the small lamp to bury his consciousness in books, allowing the calculus equations and historical dates to displace the fatigue of his diurnal employment. The antiquated clock on the wall chronologized the passage of time—one hour, then two, then three—until the nocturnal silence transformed from peaceful to oppressive, becoming a viscous, heavy entity. Xan Li Fang massaged his fatigued oculars and rotated in his chair to inspect her, yet his mother remained paralyzed, exhibiting neither a cough nor the rhythmic respiration of deep sleep. A frigid spike of suspicion, sharp as a needle, punctured his thorax. Rising with trepidation, the chair's harsh scrape against the floor elicited no reaction, prompting him to approach the bed with limbs as heavy as lead. Upon touching her shoulder, he found it unyielding; upon touching her cheek, he found it devoid of thermal energy, the warmth of vitality having fled hours prior.
The world fractured into irreparable shards. "No…No…Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo A guttural roar tore from his throat, raw and broken, a sound that transcended human despair. He collapsed to his knees, gripping her shoulders and shaking her violently, as if he could physically coerce the life back into her cold frame. "Mother! Why did you abandon me?! Noooo!" Tears flooded his vision, blurring the room into a wash of monochromatic gray, while his distinct eyes—one burning crimson, the other freezing azure—swam with grief. He fumbled frantically for his device to summon emergency services, his fingers slick with perspiration, slipping on the screen repeatedly. "Hello?! Ambulance! My mother... she is unresponsive! Please dispatch assistance immediately!" he screamed into the receiver, his voice cracking with panic. "Address... Limun Street, House 12! Please! Make haste!" He deposited the phone into his pocket and embraced her frigid corpse, rocking rhythmically while awaiting a miracle that was destined never to manifest.
When the medical practitioners arrived, their examination was brutal in its brevity; they confirmed her cessation, offered the perfunctory condolences reserved for the impoverished, and departed, leaving the silence to return with increased density. Xan sat paralyzed on the floor for an eternity, his mind a tabula rasa, until his gaze drifted to her clenched right fist. He gently pried her stiff fingers open to reveal a Gray Stone Tablet, unadorned save for the solitary character "DAO" carved roughly into its center. "What is this artifact? Why was she clutching this?" he pondered, reaching out to acquire it. The instant his phalanges grazed the stone, a cephalic agony of unprecedented magnitude besieged his skull, as if a corroded ax had been driven into his cortex. "Argh!" The pain was blinding, a white-hot surge traversing his nervous system, causing his consciousness to snap like a brittle twig as he collapsed beside his mother's remains.
Darkness. Absolute, suffocating darkness. Then, a voice resonated: "Hey, my baby..." Xan opened his eyes to find himself suspended in a void of nothingness, where a figure materialized before him—his mother, Yuan. However, she was not the frail, wrinkled woman who had perished, but a younger, radiant incarnation, her skin glowing with ethereal health. "If you are perceiving this message, I have already perished," she intoned, her smile melancholic yet saturated with overwhelming love. "I am transmitting to you one of the Hidden Skills—The Heavenly Copying Art; with this, you shall remain secure from 'them' and hide amidst their ranks." She extended her hand, touching his forehead in the dreamscape, causing a warm golden luminescence to flood his mind. "Remember, your sole mission is to survive... Goodbye, my dear son." "Mom! Is that truly you?!" Xan shouted, his voice echoing in the infinite void as he thrashed his limbs in a futile attempt to pursue her. "Mom, where are you going?! Take me with you! MOTHER!" He reached out to grasp her hand, but her fingers disintegrated into dust, dissolving into particles of light that faded into the abyss.
Beep. Beep. Beep. A familiar auditory signal pierced his ears. "Ugh... my alarm..." Xan Li Fang groaned, his hand instinctively slapping the ground to silence the device. "Such a pleasant dream... but my cranium feels as though it is violently splitting apart..." He rubbed his temples, only to register the rough texture of bark beneath his fingers rather than smooth timber. He opened his eyes. "I must still be dreaming..." He blinked forcefully. He was not in his wooden hovel on Limun Street, nor in a hospital; he was seated beneath a massive tree with bark that shimmered like polished bronze, beneath strange Gunsang Fruits that pulsed with a rhythmic light akin to beating hearts. Before him lay a breathtaking valley where physical laws seemed defied—massive mountains levitated in the distant firmament, unconnected to the terra firma, with waterfalls cascading from them into nothingness—while behind him stood a dense, primeval forest, the trees so colossal their canopies obliterated the sun. He was still attempting to process the impossible scenery, his heart pounding against his ribs, when a sound emanated from the shadows of the forest behind him. It was neither a roar nor a growl, but a casual, almost amused voice. "Hey, boy..." Xan spun around, his mismatched eyes widening in deep shock.