Chương 10: Elder Jin's Account

The evening after his return, Wei Chen sat on the ridge above Veridian Village and watched the sunset paint the jungle in shades of blood and gold. His legs were folded in the meditation posture the legacy called Earth Root, designed to maximize qi absorption from the ground, and his breathing moved in the twelve-step Primordial Breath Cycle that had become automatic. But his mind was not on cultivation.

His mind was on the story Elder Jin had told him, and on the letter his mother had left beneath the floorboard, and on the gaps in both that he could not yet fill. Twelve attackers. Foundation Establishment or higher. His parents had killed four and wounded three, driving off the remainder with techniques they had never displayed in fifteen years of village life. Then they had left immediately, understanding that the attack was merely a prelude to something larger. The math did not add up.

Not to a boy who had believed his parents were simple farmers. Foundation Establishment cultivators were not common in the fringe regions. The legacy's historical records suggested that fewer than one in ten thousand people possessed the spiritual roots necessary for cultivation. Of those, fewer than one in a hundred would ever reach Foundation Establishment. His parents had faced twelve such cultivators and won. That meant they were higher—Core Formation, possibly even Golden Core.

Realms the legacy described in terms of mythic power, capable of leveling buildings, shattering armies, reshaping landscapes. And they had hidden all of it. Every technique, every cultivation, every hint of their true nature. They had tilled fields, planted rice, cured meat, and raised children with the same hands that could kill trained cultivators. Why? The jade pendant warmed against his chest. He pulled it out and examined it in the fading light.

The characters carved into its surface were not from any script he had learned in the village school. They were older, more complex, resembling the archaic notation from the sanctuary's pillars but distinct in ways that suggested a different tradition. A family symbol. A mark of the research his parents had guarded. His mother's letter had told him the basics: his parents were scholars and researchers whose work had made them targets, not simple farmers.

But Elder Jin's account filled in colors the letter had left blank. His parents were cultivators of significant power who had chosen to hide. They had abandoned their academic standing, their safety, and the recognition their work might have earned, to live as peasants on the edge of nowhere. And they had done it for him. For his sister, who had been sent away years before he could remember. For the future they believed was worth more than their past. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road.

If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Wei Chen closed his fingers around the pendant and returned to his breathing. The qi he drew from the earth was thin, as always in this region, but his enhanced body processed it with an efficiency that compensated. Each cycle filled his dantian slightly, compressing the energy into a denser form. His Foundation Establishment cultivation was solidifying, the initial instability of rapid advancement giving way to a stable platform. But stable did not mean strong. Not yet.

Not compared to what his parents had been, or what the attackers could send next. He needed resources. He needed information. He needed to reach a place where the legacy's knowledge could be translated into practical power without drawing the wrong kind of attention. The nearest town—Silverstream, according to Elder Jin's maps, three days' walk through jungle and two more along the old trade road—was his first destination.

From there, he would sell his gathered beast cores and herbs, convert them to coin, and find passage toward Dragon's Rest, the capital of the kingdom of Veritas. And from Dragon's Rest, he would begin the long journey east, toward Aethelgard, toward the truth of what his family had been. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the jungle's nocturnal symphony rose. Wei Chen stood, stretched muscles that no longer ached after hours of meditation, and walked back to the village.

Elder Jin was waiting outside his house, a lantern in one hand and a rolled parchment in the other.

"I thought you might need this," the elder said, extending the parchment. Wei Chen unrolled it carefully. It was a map—crude, hand-drawn, but functional. It showed the route from Veridian Village to Silverstream, then to Dragon's Rest, with annotations marking safe campsites, dangerous crossings, and settlements that might offer assistance or threat.

"You drew this?"

"I traveled, once. Long ago, before my joints turned to stone." Elder Jin's smile was faint.

"I was not always a village elder, boy. I saw the capital. I met cultivators who would make your parents look like children playing with sticks." He tapped the map.

"The world is larger than you can imagine, and more dangerous than you can conceive. This map will get you to Silverstream. After that, you must find your own way."

"Why are you helping me?" Elder Jin was silent for a long moment. The lantern light flickered, casting shadows across his ancient face.

"Because your parents saved this village. Because you are the only child of the only people who have ever fought for us. And because—" he paused, choosing his words, "—because I see in you the same thing I saw in them when they first arrived. Potential. Power waiting to be realized. And I would rather that power protect the innocent than serve the ambitions of the powerful." Wei Chen rolled the map and tucked it into his pack.

"I will remember this," he said.

"Remember it or forget it. What matters is what you do." Elder Jin turned toward his doorway.

"Sleep well, Wei Chen. Tomorrow you begin a journey that will not end quickly." The old man disappeared into his house, leaving Wei Chen alone with the lantern's dying light and the weight of a future he was only beginning to understand. He did not sleep that night. He meditated, cycling qi, reviewing the legacy's knowledge, preparing himself for the world beyond the village.

When dawn broke, painting the eastern sky in bands of rose and amber, he was already walking toward the jungle, his pack heavy with resources, his mind focused on the path ahead. Veridian Village receded behind him, its smoke rising in thin columns against the green horizon. He did not look back.