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Chapter 6- Emotions

  The world was vast.Cai Feiyihis now.He had seen it in the maps, in the books his mother read to him, iales of great cultivators who defied fate itself. He had traced his tiny fingers over inked ndscapes of t mountains, endless os, and golden cities that shone like stars beh the heave, for all its grandeur, the world followed a simple truth—the strong ruled, and the weak followed.It was a fact woven into history, into the very culture of Terra. Strength was not just admired—it was the foundation upon which the world was built. Cultivators were revered, their levels and potential dictating how they were treated. A person’s status, wealth, and even survival often depended on how far they could push beyond their mortal limits.Feiyin, though still young, absorbed this with an almost frightening crity.His mother, Mei Liao, saw it too. She had once been part of a noble , a world where power and maniputio hand in hand. And though a part of her wished to shield Feiyin from the darker aspects of human nature, she knew she could not keep him ignorant forever.

  It was te m wheraveling mert arrived.Feiyin had been sitting just outside their home, watg the way the leaves fluttered on the branches of an old tree, their movements subtle yet rhythmic, like quiet heartbeats.Then he heard it—the creak of wooden wheels, the heavy steps of oxen, the bright voice of a man who smiled too much.The mert was a broad-shouldered man, his clothes embroidered in colors that were just a little tht for a man who cimed to have traveled long distances. His thick, graying beard gave him an air of wisdom, but Feiyin knew better than to trust a beard.“Fine wares! Fine silks! The best spices from the southern ports!”His voice was warm, friendly, spilling over with words meant to put people at ease. His hands moved with exaggerated flourishes, presenting his goods with practiced ease.Mei Liao, ever graceful, greeted him with a polite nod, while Cai Feng stood at a distance, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.Feiyin, however, was not focused on his words—he was focused on the way the air shifted around him.The mert’s voice was smooth, but the osciltions around him did not match the warmth of his words. They wavered, sharp at the edges, as though carefully maintained, hiding somethih the surface.Feiyin frowned, his small fingers curling in the fabric of his sleeve.The mert was lying.He didn’t know about what, but it was there—a false note in the melody of his presence.He tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “Mommy.”Mei Liao gnced down, still keeping polite versation with the mert. “Hmm?”Feiyiated. He wao say it. To tell her something was wrong.But then he saw the way she met the mert’s gaze, her expression polite yet unreadable, her presence calm yet unwavering.She already knew.Feiyin’s small shoulders rexed slightly. His mother was not fooled.Instead of speaking, he simply leaned against her leg, a silent firmation that he was watg too.She brushed her fihrough his hair, a quiet act of reassurahat night, Feiyin sat cross-legged on a thick cushion, watg his mother with bright, attentive eyes. Tonight’s lesson was not about maps or history.

  Tonight was about people.“Feiyin,” Mei Liao began, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you know why people act differently when they speak to your father?”Feiyin tilted his head. “Because he’s strong?”She smiled. “That’s part of it. But not just strength in body. He carries himself with fidence, and people respect that.”Feiyin thought for a moment. “So… if I eople to treat me well, I just have to look strong?”Mei Liao’s amethyst eyes softened. “It helps,” she admitted. “But strength alone is not enough. Do you remember the mert who visited st week?”Feiyin nodded. “He smiled a lot… but I didn’t like it.”Her brows lifted slightly. “Why?”Feiyin frowapping his . “His void his face… they didn’t match.”Mei Liao’s lips curled in approval. “Very good.” She leaned in slightly. “Some people will act kind, but their kindness is empty. Others will seem harsh, but their words may carry hoy.”She tapped his small chest lightly. “The key is not just listening to eople say, but uanding what they mean.”Feiyin absorbed this, his small fingers curling slightly against his knee. His mind, sharpehrough nightly visualization, processed and analyzed information faster than most children his age.Mei Liao tinued, her voice patient and warm. “There will e a time when you will meet people who will try to use you, to manipute you. I want you to be able t, shield yourself from it… and if necessary, use it against them.”Feiyin blinked up at her. “Use it… like how?”A small, knowing smile graced her lips. “Like when you refuse to say ‘Dad’ just to make your father annoyed.”Feiyin grinned mischievously, his small shoulders shaking in ughter.Mei Liao ughed with him, ruffling his hair. “That, my love, is the simplest form of trol. Knowing how people feel and guiding their emotions without them realizing it.”Feiyin, fasated, thought about this for a long while.And then, almost absentmindedly, he murmured, “People’s feelings… they move.”Mei Liao’s amusement faded, repced by quiet curiosity. “Move?”Feiyin nodded, his eyes flickering with deep thought. “It’s like… when Daddy swings his sword, the air around it moves. But people do that too… evehey don’t move.”Mei Liao’s breath hitched slightly.“Do you mean you feel their emotions?”Feiyiated, then slowly nodded. “It’s… not like hearing or seeing. But I feel when things ge. Like the mert… his words and his feeling didn’t match.”For the first time in a long while, Mei Liao did not know what to say.Her son was barely past a year old. His mind was sharp, but this… this was something else.People spent decades training their awareo seions, yet Feiyin did it naturally—as if it was merely another sense, like touch or taste.

  She had expected him to be gifted. She had not expected this.Taking a slow breath, she smiled, masking her deeper thoughts. “Feiyin, listen to me carefully.”Her son’s eyes flicked up to her.She pced a gentle hand on his cheek, her voice soft yet firm. “Feiyin… remember what I told you?”Feiyin blinked sleepily up at her. He knew what she meant.“I won’t tell anyone else,” he murmured.Mei Liao smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead as she tucked him into his bed. “Good.”Her fingers lingered in his hair for a moment before she rose, leaving him to the embrace of sleep.

  Days ter, Feiyin stood at the edge of the river, barefoot on the cool, damp soil.His father had allowed him some time to py before stretg exercises. His mother, seated under a tree with a book in hand, occasionally gnced his way, ensuring he didn’t waoo far.Feiyin loved the river.Not just because it was cool and refreshing, but because it was alive.He crouched, pg his small hands on the smooth stohat lihe riverbank. He felt the way the water rushed past, the endless pull and push of the current.He closed his eyes.The river was not just moving. It was singing.A deep, steady hum, yered with tless small ripples of motion. Where the water struck stohe sound ged, higher in pitch, sharper in its vibrations. When it slowed in small pools, the hum became soft and warm, a lulby whispered by the earth itself.Feiyin opened his eyes and dipped his fingers into the water. The ripples ged with his touch, spreading outward, meeting the greater current before fading into it.He giggled, delighted.“Feiyin!”His mother’s voice was warm, but firm.He looked back, seeing her raised brow.“Not too far.”“I won’t,” he called back, stepping back just enough to ease her worry.Theurned back to the river, listening again.One day, he thought, I’ll uand all of it.

  Reading and writing had been difficult at first. The shapes of the characters, the strokes of ink, the meanings behind eae—it had all seemed so slow pared to the way he processed sound, movement, and energy.But Feiyin was nothing if not persistent.With each passing day, the letters became clearer, the sentences easier. He sat beside his mother as she wrote out new words, his firag the strokes before repeating them on his own part.He loved stories most—tales of cultivators who soared across the skies, of heroes who defied fate, of emperors who built golden paces high above the clouds.But some stories were not so grand.“Feiyin,” Mei Liao said one evening, her tone softer than usual. “Do you know why people respect cultivators?”Feiyin blinked up at her. “Because they’re strong?”“Yes,” she murmured. “But strength is not just about power. It’s about status. The world values those who surpass others. The strong rise, the weak are left behind.”Feiyin’s small hands pressed against his book. “That’s… not fair.”“No,” she said quietly. “It isn’t.”For a moment, her of them spoke.Then Mei Liao pced a gentle hand over his. “But you will not be weak, my love.”Feiyi her gaze, small but resolute.“No,” he agreed. “I won’t.”

  Cai Feng was not a man of many words.His teags were different from Mei Liao’s—straightforward, direct, and practical.“Stretch,” his father instructed, sitting on the grass with his legs extended. “Like this.”Feiyin mirrored him, his small arms reag toward his feet.Cai Feng observed him carefully. “Good. Hold it.”His father had expihat he was still too young to begin true cultivation. His body was not yet ready to hahe influx of Essence Qi, but that did not mean he could not prepare.For now, his days with his father were filled with stretg exercises, body ditioning, and deep massages tthen his tendons and muscles, ensuring his body grew with resilience.“Why do I have to stretch every day?” Feiyin asked oernoon, rubbing his sore legs.Cai Feng, sitting beside him, exhaled. “Because cultivation is not just about gathering power—it’s about withstanding it.”Feiyin blinked. “Withstanding it?”His father nodded. “Think of Essence Qi like a river. If you build a dam too weak, the water will break through aroy everything.”He pced a firm hand on Feiyin’s shoulder. “Your body is the dam. If it’s weak, you’ll break before you even take your first step.”Feiyin pursed his lips in thought. He had seen rivers before. He had seen how strong currents smashed through weak barriers.He uood.“Okay,” he said seriously. “I’ll get strong.”Cai Feng’s lips twitched slightly, the closest thing to a smile. “Good.”After their session, Feiyin y on his stomach while Cai Feng worked his hands over his back, pressing into his muscles with firm, steady pressure. The first time, Feiyin had squeaked in protest, but now, he had growo it.“This will help your body develop properly,” his father said, kneading his shoulders. “It’ll make sure your bones and muscles set the right way.”Feiyin made a small humming sound, feeling rexed. “Feels nice.”Cai Feng snorted. “Enjoy it while it sts. When you start actual training, you’ll beg me to stop.”Feiyin lifted his head, grinning. “I won’t beg!”His father raised a brow. “Oh?”“Promise!”Cai Feng chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see.”

  And every night, as he drifted into sleep, the Eight formed in his mind.They were not watg him.They were simply there—a vast, unfathomable presence, a visualization of something beyond prehension.And every night, as he focused on them, as he let his thoughts drift into the emptiness of the Nexus, he felt it—his mind being clearer, his thoughts sharper.Slowly, but surely, he was growing.

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