Chapter 3 Awakened by Fate

The mountain range behind the Chen Clan's compound was shrouded in the first, faint mists of dawn, as Jian climbed to his favorite spot. This secluded, rugged terrain had been his haven for as long as he could remember-a place where the pressures of clan life seemed to dissolve in the vast silence of the peaks. Today, the stillness of the mountains felt more comforting than ever, wrapping around him like a protective shield.

Jian settled on a large, smooth rock overlooking the valley. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, letting the cool morning air steady him. The sting of Chen Liu's taunts from earlier that morning still lingered, echoing in his mind, blending with the faint hum of the mountain winds. He could still feel the dull ache in his fists, his knuckles raw from clenching them too hard against the onslaught of ridicule. The insults, the smirks, the pitying looks-they clung to him like a shadow he couldn't shake, weighing down on him even as he tried to let them fade.

A surge of helpless anger churned within him, twisting into something darker, something almost bitter. He knew the path of cultivation was treacherous; he had known it from the moment he had chosen to walk it. Mastery would not come easily; it would require discipline, patience, and perhaps even sacrifice. Yet was it too much to hope for even a single, small victory? Each time he thought he was making progress, he found himself right back at the beginning, struggling to grasp even the faintest thread of martial energy. It felt like he was trying to catch smoke with his bare hands, the wisps slipping through his fingers no matter how tightly he tried to hold on.

The mountain air was cool, and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly. He knew the levels of cultivation-every child in the clan knew them by heart. The journey was like a winding staircase, each level offering a new realm of power and a step closer to the fabled Martial Immortal. Martial Initiate was only the beginning, a stage he should have outgrown long ago. Beyond it lay Martial Adept, Expert, Master, Grandmaster, Saint, and Emperor. But at the summit stood the mythical Martial Immortal, a title belonging to those whose strength was so vast, they were said to wield control over life and death itself. Legends whispered that Martial Immortals could reshape mountains with a mere thought, summon storms with a whisper, and endure for centuries untouched by age.

For as long as Jian could remember, the idea of reaching that level had fueled his dreams, filling him with hope and determination. Yet, here he was, barely able to grasp the basics of Martial Initiate while his peers ascended effortlessly, moving closer and closer to the heights he could only dream of reaching. Each step forward seemed to come at a greater cost, each lesson a painful reminder of how far behind he was, how insurmountable the gap had become.

He exhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing and release some of the tension that had been building within him. His thoughts swirled, a tangled mess of frustration and doubt. What was he doing wrong? Why did his progress seem so elusive, so out of reach?

Lost in his thoughts, Jian almost didn't notice the soft crunch of footsteps approaching from behind.

"Jian," a familiar voice called softly.

He turned, his heart lifting at the sight of his cousin, Chen Mei, standing a few feet away. She was the one person in the clan who seemed to truly understand him, the one who knew where to find him when he needed to escape. Her dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, her expression filled with quiet concern. In her eyes, Jian saw the warmth and understanding he had come to rely on, a sense of comfort that never seemed to waver.

"Mei," he said, attempting a weak smile. "I didn't expect anyone to come looking for me."

She walked closer, her gaze searching his face with a gentle intensity. "You didn't think I'd know where to find you? You always come up here when something's bothering you."

Jian lowered his head, feeling a twinge of shame. He wasn't sure what hurt more-the sting of Chen Liu's words or the fact that Mei had heard about it. "I thought maybe... maybe some quiet would help clear my head."

"I heard about what happened this morning," she said gently, taking a seat beside him on the rock. "Chen Liu and his friends... they don't know you. They don't understand."

"That's putting it mildly," Jian muttered, bitterness creeping into his voice. He clenched his fists, feeling the roughness of his palms where his nails had dug into them earlier. "They don't think I'll ever amount to anything. And maybe... maybe they're right. I feel like I'm stuck, Mei. Like I've been stuck in the same place forever, while everyone else moves ahead without me."

Mei reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Jian, you're far stronger than they realize. I know you can't see it now, but I've watched you. You're not just chasing after power like the rest of them-you're fighting for something deeper, something real. And that makes you different. That makes you strong."

He looked up at her, meeting her steady gaze. Her eyes held a fierce confidence, the kind of certainty he wished he could feel himself. "But what's the point, Mei? In this clan, strength is all that matters. If I can't even master the basics, what kind of future do I have here?"

"Strength isn't everything," she replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You have more to offer than just power. You have resilience, a determination most people couldn't even imagine. And don't forget, you're not alone. You've got family who believes in you." She paused, her expression softening. "And I believe in you, Jian. I always have."

Jian felt a surge of gratitude at her words, mingling with the frustration simmering within him. Mei's support was unwavering, a steady presence when all else seemed to crumble around him. He couldn't understand why she continued to believe in him, even when he found it so hard to believe in himself.

"Thank you, Mei," he murmured, managing a small, genuine smile for the first time that day.

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before standing up. "Promise me you won't give up, Jian. No matter what Chen Liu or anyone else says."

He nodded, though a part of him wondered if he could truly keep that promise. Mei's words lingered, a fragile hope settling in his chest. As she turned to leave, she glanced back over her shoulder, her expression soft and reassuring.

"I'll see you back at the compound," she said softly, giving him one last, encouraging smile before she disappeared down the rocky path, leaving him alone once more.

Jian stayed there, letting the silence of the mountain settle around him like a comforting blanket. Mei's words echoed in his mind, bolstering his spirit just enough to keep the despair at bay. For the first time in hours, the weight pressing down on him seemed to lift, even if only slightly.

He moved to sit on another rock, noticing the first rays of the rising sun illuminating the mountainside in a soft, golden glow. As he shifted his position, his hand brushed against the cool, rough surface of the stone, and he felt an odd tingling sensation ripple through his fingertips. Intrigued, he ran his fingers over the spot again, noticing a faint etching in the rock-lines and symbols so worn by time that they were almost invisible.

"What's this?" he murmured, leaning in closer to examine the markings.

He traced the carvings with his finger, feeling a subtle vibration emanate from the stone. It was faint, barely perceptible, but it was there-a deep, pulsing energy lying dormant beneath the surface. The feeling was strange, almost foreign, yet it resonated with something within him, calling to a part of him he couldn't quite understand. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to focus solely on the sensation.

The pulse grew stronger, his own heartbeat seeming to synchronize with its rhythm. He could feel the energy radiating from the rock, seeping into his body, filling him with a strange warmth. Suddenly, the ground beneath him trembled, and a blinding light burst forth from the etchings, flooding his senses.

In the blink of an eye, the world around him faded, replaced by a vast darkness filled with sparks of light. Within that darkness, he saw visions-shadowy figures locked in fierce combat, mountains crumbling under a wave of raw energy, and a single, solitary figure standing at the peak, commanding forces that defied imagination.

The vision faded, leaving Jian gasping for breath. He opened his eyes, finding himself back on the mountainside, his hand still pressed against the stone. The etchings glowed faintly, the energy flowing through them surging into his core, filling him with a power he couldn't comprehend.

"What... what just happened?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he tried to make sense of the experience.

And then, as he lingered in the confusion of the moment, a deep, resonant voice echoed around him, filling the silence with an ancient authority.

"Hmmmm... what a strong martial spirit..."

Jian froze, his heart pounding as the voice faded into silence. It was a voice he had never heard before, ancient and powerful.