Path of the Li famly:from mortal ashes to immortal flames

Chapter 2: Aspirations

"A man must know his limits before he dares to break them."

The words echoed in young Li Yuan Tian's mind as he struck the wooden post again and again, sweat rolling down his bare back in the early dawn. He was only ten, but his body already held the wiry strength of a boy far older. The dirt courtyard behind his family's crumbling hut in Xianhua Village was lined with training poles, rocks for lifting, and a makeshift balance beam. All handmade by his ailing father, Li Long.

"Yuan Tian! Enough training. Help me fetch water from the stream," his father's deep voice called out, hoarse from sickness.

"Coming, Father!"

He grabbed the empty buckets and rushed over. His mother, Wu Mei, sat wrapped in blankets by the fire, her once vibrant face now pale and sunken. She still gave him a gentle smile.

"You train so hard, Tian'er," she said weakly. "But the world is colder than you know. You must not hesitate when it comes for you."

He knelt beside her and took her hand.

"I will protect both of you. Always."

She shook her head. "No, Tian'er. You must protect yourself first. That is the lesson we must teach you."

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, the grip firm despite his coughing fit.

"Strength without purpose is dangerous. Strength without decisiveness is fatal. If you are too soft, this world will chew you up and spit you out. Learn to be ruthless when the time calls for it."

Yuan Tian nodded, confused but trying to understand. That night, he sat alone under the stars as the wind whispered through the trees.

Xianhua Village, nestled in the eastern hills of the Xianlin Kingdom, was a sleepy farming village with simple people and simple lives. Tales of cultivators, immortal swordsmen, or spirit beasts were just that-tales. Here, men relied on their backs and blades, not spiritual energy.

But Yuan Tian was different.

Even the village chief, an old soldier named Uncle Bo, had once said, "That boy punches harder than some of the soldiers I trained with. If he had been born in the army, he'd be a general by twenty."

Still, Yuan Tian never let the praise get to his head. His parents taught him humility, but more importantly, they taught him to be cold, decisive, and unyielding in the face of danger.

By the age of twelve, Yuan Tian could run faster, carry more weight, and fight better than any boy his age-and even most men. But his heart was not one of a brute. He trained not for glory but to protect. And protect he did.

When bandits raided the village in the fall of his thirteenth year, it was Yuan Tian who led the youths in defending the granary. Armed only with sticks and farm tools, they held out until help arrived.

The village elders gathered after and called Yuan Tian before them.

"Boy," said Elder Qiu, peering down from beneath heavy brows, "where did you learn to fight like that?"

Yuan Tian bowed deeply. "From my father. And my mother."

"And your strength," asked another, "do you eat more than the other boys?"

"No, Elder," Yuan Tian replied honestly. "Same food as everyone else."

The elders could not explain it. None of them understood that the bloodline running through Yuan Tian's veins was anything but ordinary. Not yet.

As the seasons turned, Yuan Tian continued his path of quiet growth. He trained in the early hours, worked in the fields to earn coin, and read what little scrolls the village had to offer. He never boasted, never asked for more.

But deep inside, a longing stirred. A strange pull, a whisper that there was more beyond the hills, beyond the Kingdom of Xianlin, beyond the world he knew.

Sometimes at night, he would climb the hill outside the village and stare at the stars. There, he would clench his fists and whisper to the wind:

"One day, I'll break these limits."

He didn't yet know how. He didn't know what cultivation was, or that spirit roots existed. But the fire was already there.

And the world would soon take notice.