The scent of plum blossoms drifted through the wind, dancing gently across the bamboo rooftops of Fragrant Valley. Nestled deep within the Cloudmist Mountains, the valley was a hidden world of serenity, where clear waters sang over stones and fireflies shimmered like drifting souls at dusk. Here, life moved slowly, and the worries of the martial world seemed like distant thunder—loud but far away.
At the edge of the valley, a boy named Lin Feng sat cross-legged atop a moss-covered rock, his eyes closed, palms resting gently on his knees. He was seventeen, lean and sun-tanned, with the gentle grace of someone raised in nature. His black hair was tied in a messy knot, and a jade pendant—worn from age—hung around his neck.
The boy breathed in and out slowly, trying to follow the meditative techniques his grandfather had taught him. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not summon even a flicker of inner energy—no qi, no spiritual resonance, not even a faint hum. Birds chirped in the trees overhead, mocking his efforts.
"Still trying to gather qi, are you?" came a teasing voice.
Lin Feng cracked one eye open and saw Mei Yulan, the village apothecary's daughter, peering at him from behind a tree. Her long sleeves fluttered in the wind like petals in spring. She was only a year younger, but already taller than him and infinitely more skilled. She had reached the first level of Body Refinement at just fourteen. Everyone said she had talent.
He sighed. "One day, I'll shock everyone."
She grinned. "If staring at clouds and inhaling pollen is the secret to power, you'll be invincible by next spring."
Despite her words, Lin Feng didn't mind. Mei Yulan had always teased him like that, and besides, she was one of the few who never mocked him cruelly. Others in the village often whispered that he was born "without roots"—a body that could never cultivate, cursed by the heavens.
But Lin Feng believed otherwise.
He looked at the jade pendant again. It was the only thing he had from his parents, who had perished in a bandit raid when he was an infant. His grandfather, Lin Mu, had raised him since, teaching him how to read, how to hunt, and how to survive in the mountains. Yet even Grandfather had grown silent whenever Lin Feng asked about the pendant's origin.
"Yulan!" a voice called from the village path. It was her younger brother, running up the trail.
"Coming!" she shouted back. She turned to Lin Feng. "Try not to explode your organs while breathing. If you die up here, Grandpa Lin will blame me."
She skipped down the trail, laughing as she went.
Lin Feng smiled faintly, then turned back to the valley below. The wind shifted slightly, and for the first time all afternoon, the jade pendant began to feel… warm. He glanced at it. It glowed, just slightly, and then pulsed once like a heartbeat.
Startled, Lin Feng clutched the pendant—but the warmth vanished as quickly as it came.
He stood up, heart racing. Was it real? Or was it just his imagination?
Suddenly, a distant boom echoed across the mountains. Birds scattered. The trees rustled with unnatural force. Lin Feng turned sharply toward the west, where dark smoke was rising into the sky—too far to be a kitchen fire.
The villagers had always avoided that direction. The Sealed Ravine, they called it. Supposedly cursed, home to ancient beasts and forgotten secrets. The elders warned children never to go near it.
But Lin Feng's eyes sparkled with something rare—curiosity.
He hesitated. Then turned back toward the trail. But before he could take a step, the pendant pulsed again—stronger this time. His breath caught in his throat.
Then came a whisper. Not in words, but a feeling. A pull.
Like something—someone—was calling to him.
---
Down in the village, Grandfather Lin was sweeping the courtyard outside their small home. Though nearing seventy, Lin Mu still moved like a martial master—firm and precise, each stroke of the broom steady as swordplay.
He paused as a gust of wind swept through the yard, carrying the scent of blood and ash.
His eyes narrowed.
"Feng'er," he murmured. He dropped the broom and turned toward the west.
---
Lin Feng pushed through tall grass and thick underbrush, heart pounding with every step. He had never disobeyed his grandfather before, never gone beyond the old cedar tree marking the edge of safe ground. But something about today felt different—charged, as if the air itself was guiding him.
The smoke was thicker now, and the trees around him looked older, gnarled by time and untouched by human hands. Eventually, the forest opened into a wide gorge—cut deep into the earth like a scar. The Sealed Ravine.
He could barely believe it.
A ruined shrine stood at the edge of the chasm, its stone roof half-collapsed, and its wooden beams rotting. Strange markings covered the stone. As Lin Feng stepped closer, the jade pendant began to hum—soft but insistent.
Then, from the shadows of the shrine, a low growl echoed.
Lin Feng froze.
Out from the darkness crept a silver-furred beast, like a wolf but larger—its eyes glowing with unnatural light, its breath hissing like steam. A Demonic Spirit Beast, just like in the old tales. Its claws dug into the stone with each step.
Lin Feng backed away slowly.
The beast growled again—and then charged.
In that moment, everything slowed. Lin Feng's instincts screamed, but his body refused to move fast enough.
I'm going to die, he thought.
But just as the beast lunged, the jade pendant burst with blinding green light. A surge of force exploded outward, knocking the beast back into the stone altar with a thunderous crash. Lin Feng collapsed, dazed, the world spinning.
When he opened his eyes again, the pendant was no longer around his neck.
It was floating above him, spinning slowly in midair. Then it cracked—and from within it, a jade-green saber emerged, glowing with ancient light.
Lin Feng could only stare.
A voice—soft and ancient—echoed in his mind.
> "The blood of the Hidden Line awakens. The Whispers have found their heir."
Before he could make sense of it, the saber dropped to the ground beside him.
The beast snarled again, rising with rage in its eyes.
Lin Feng reached for the saber.
The moment his hand touched the hilt, a rush of warmth flooded his veins—like fire, but cleansing. His senses sharpened. His heartbeat slowed. He moved.
The beast pounced again—but this time, Lin Feng rolled aside, lifted the saber, and slashed.
The arc of green light carved through the air like a crescent moon, slicing into the beast's shoulder. The monster howled in agony and retreated, limping into the dark trees.
Lin Feng dropped the saber, panting. His hands trembled. He had never wielded a sword before, not truly. And yet… something had guided him.
A distant roar echoed again, this time not from the beast—but from deeper within the ravine. An older sound. A waking sound.
Lin Feng looked at the saber, then at the shrine.
He realized: this was only the beginning.
---
Later that evening, Grandfather Lin stormed through the forest, his qi coiled tightly within him, his spiritual sense sweeping wide. He found the ravine's edge—and the ruined shrine.
And there, sleeping against the altar, was Lin Feng—his arms curled around a glowing jade saber.
Lin Mu stopped in his tracks.
"No… It can't be," he whispered.
Then, from the shadows of the trees, a cloaked figure watched silently. The figure's eyes gleamed with strange recognition. He whispered to himself:
> "So… the Jade Saber has chosen. The Hidden Line has awakened."
And then he vanished into mist.
---
End of Chapter 1.