Once the decision was made on his next steps, he started to think of how he would get to the sect. There was nothing left for him in Clearwater Village but the ghosts of his parents and the pitying glances of his neighbors. Pity couldn't fill his stomach and ghosts couldn't teach him how to cultivate. His future would have to lay elsewhere.
He spent the next two days making preparations. His belongings were meager: a spare set of patched linen clothes, a small flint for starting fires, and a half-full bag of dried grain. He wrapped them all in a small blanket. On the morning of the third day, under the cloak of pre-dawn darkness, he visited the small hill behind the village where two simple, unmarked mounds of earth lay. He knelt, pressing his forehead to the damp ground.
"Father, Mother," he whispered, his voice barely a sound in the quiet air. "I am leaving. I don't know if I will ever come back, but I promise you, I will become stronger. I will become strong enough that I never have to be afraid again."
He stayed there for a long time, the silence his only answer. When he finally stood, the first rays of sunlight were piercing the morning mist, and the small, determined figure of a ten-year-old boy walked away from his home without a single look back.
The journey to the Green Mountain Sect was a grueling three-day walk. For a grown man, it would have been a simple trek, but for Li Yu, it was an ordeal. The dirt path wound through dense forests and over rolling hills, the sounds of the wilderness a constant, unnerving companion. Thankfully this area was relatively safe outside of a beast tide outbreak.
He walked from sunrise to sunset, his small legs aching, his stomach a tight knot of hunger and resolve. He ate his grain sparingly and drank from clear streams, his senses on high alert. He had learned from the beast tide that the world beyond the village was not a safe place.
On the second day, while resting near a shallow creek, he felt a familiar tingle in his senses—the simple, primal consciousness of aquatic life. It was a single, distinct presence, sharp with aggression and territorial instinct.
Mine. Go away. Danger.
Li Yu froze, his eyes scanning the clear water. He saw it a moment later: a crayfish, larger than his hand, lurking under a rock. Its shell was a mottled, ugly green, and its claws were disproportionately large, clicking together menacingly. It was a low-level demonic beast, a Green-Clawed Crayfish.
Instead of fear, a jolt of excitement shot through him. Cautiously, he crept closer to the edge of the creek, his heart pounding. He didn't enter the water, but sat on the bank, a mere five feet away from the creature's hiding spot. He focused his will, reaching out with his senses towards the crayfish.
Suddenly, he felt a gentle but insistent pull. A thin, almost invisible thread of wild, untamed Qi was drawn from the crayfish, flowing through the air and into his body. The blood-red Koi in his dantian stirred, opening its ethereal mouth to swallow the stream of energy whole. A feeling of profound satisfaction and nourishment washed over Li Yu. He felt the muscles in his small body grow stronger, the weariness from his journey lessening.
The crayfish, which had been poised to attack, suddenly became sluggish. It waved its claws weakly before retreating deep under its rock, its aggression gone. Li Yu stared, his eyes wide with shock and elation. He hadn't touched it. He hadn't even touched the water. Just being close was enough.
Reinvigorated, he completed the rest of his journey with a new spring in his step. On the afternoon of the third day, the forest opened up, and he saw it. The Green Mountain Sect.
It was nestled at the foot of three towering, emerald-green peaks that seemed to pierce the heavens. A massive gate, carved from white stone and flanked by statues of roaring spirit lions, marked the entrance.
Disciples in green and white robes moved with an air of purpose and pride, their steps light, their bodies humming with power. Compared to the mud and wood of Clearwater Village, this was a celestial paradise.
He found his way to a side entrance where a long line of people gathered under a sign that read: "Menial Labor Recruitment." This was his gate, his potential starting point. He quietly joined the back of the line.
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The recruiter was a sour-faced outer disciple who sneered when he saw him. "What's this? Did a baby wander away from his mother? We're not a nursery. Go home."
Li Yu didn't flinch, he was prepared for such a response. "I am ten. I am an orphan. I have no home to go to. I am a hard worker and I don't eat much."
The disciple was taken aback by the boy's placid gaze. "What can a little brat like you possibly do?"
"I grew up in a fishing village," Li Yu said. "I know how to handle fish. I can feed them, clean their ponds and I'm not afraid of the smell."
A cruel smirk spread across the disciple's face. "Is that so? You like fish, do you? Fine. We have a place for you." He scribbled on a wooden token and tossed it at Li Yu’s feet. "Take this to the Beast Taming Hall and ask for the Aquatic Pens. They'll put you to work."
Li Yu picked up the token, bowed his head, and said, "Thank you, Young Master." He turned and walked away, ignoring the pitying looks from the others. They thought he had been given a punishment. He knew he had been given the keys to the kingdom.
The Aquatic Pens were in a remote valley at the back of the sect. He was met by a stooped, old man named Uncle Wei who was the caretaker. "Another one?" Uncle Wei grumbled. "They're sending them younger and younger. You won't last a week." He laid out the rules: wake up before the sun, chop spirit grass, mix blood bait, feed the fish and don’t fall in.
After a long day of back-breaking work, Li Yu was finally left alone as dusk settled. The weariness in his bones was profound but his spirit soared. He didn't go to the dock, but sat on the grassy bank of Lake Veridian, which housed thousands of Green-Scaled Carp.
The spiritual energy radiating from the lake was a palpable force, a thick, invisible fog of power that made the air thrum. He closed his eyes and focused. He could feel them—thousands of individual presences, a sea of living Qi. He extended his will, and the red Koi in his dantian began to spin.
A vortex of power centered on him. Countless threads of pure, rich Qi were drawn from the nearest carp, flowing through the air and converging on Li Yu. It was like the difference between a single stream and a thousand tributaries flowing into a river. The energy was so immense it was almost painful, but his spirit pulsed with ecstatic joy, devouring the power greedily.
He felt a distinct crack within his body, a sound no one else could hear. A barrier had been shattered. Warmth spread through his entire being, strengthening his bones, toughening his muscles, and sharpening his senses.
He had officially stepped into the First Stage of the Body Tempering Realm.
The moment he broke through, the absorption stopped. The blood-red Koi in his dantian flared with a brilliant crimson light. A torrent of profound and ancient information flooded directly into Li Yu's mind, branding itself onto his soul. It was two cultivation techniques, a gift from his mysterious spirit.
The first was a body tempering method: the «Abyssal Leviathan Physique». It was a domineering technique that taught him how to use the life essence and vitality absorbed from aquatic beasts to temper his own body, making his flesh, bones, and organs as tough as a deep-sea behemoth.
The second was a Qi cultivation art: the «Myriad Rivers Returning to the Sea Art». This technique was the perfect complement to his spirit. It taught him how to refine the chaotic, varied streams of Qi he absorbed into a single, pure, and vast ocean of power within his dantian, building a foundation of unparalleled depth and purity.
Li Yu sat stunned, the intricate details of both techniques settling in his mind as if he had studied them for a thousand years. He understood now. His spirit didn't just give him the ability to eat; it had given him the knowledge of how to digest.
He opened his eyes, a wide, secret smile spreading across his face. He looked at the lake and focused his will again, this time with the guidance of the «Myriad Rivers Returning to the Sea Art». He sent a clear intention to his spirit: Gently. Just a little.
The vortex did not reappear. Instead, a slow, gentle mist of Qi was drawn from the entire lake. It was a subtle process, taking an infinitesimal amount from each of the thousands of fish, not enough to harm or even be noticed by a single one.
A wave of relief washed over him. He could control it. He could cultivate safely, silently.
He tried to increase the flow, but quickly felt a straining sensation in his newly opened meridians. His body was the bottleneck. He was a child trying to drink from a waterfall; he could only take small sips. As his «Abyssal Leviathan Physique» grew stronger and his realm increased, his capacity to absorb and refine would grow with it.
It was a perfect, self-regulating system. The laughter from the Awakening Ceremony echoed in his memory, distant and foolish. Let them have their snapping turtles and sparrowhawks. He had a path to power that was his and his alone. He would be the patient fisherman, slowly and carefully reeling in a sea of power, one thread of Qi at a time.