The sixteenth winter since Wuya's arrival in Millstone City came quietly.
Snow drifted like white feathers across the rooftops. Smoke curled from chimneys. The city exhaled the familiar warmth of a simple mortal life.
Inside the courtyard of Tianhai's home, the peach tree stood bare—branches thin, crystalized with frost. Beneath it, Wuya swept the snow, sleeves rolled neatly, breath steady.
He looked like an ordinary youth.
He felt like anything but.
Xueyi peeked out from behind a door.
"Wuya! It's cold—come inside before you freeze."
He turned, smiling faintly.
"I'm not cold."
"You always say that!"
"You always worry."
"And you never worry," she muttered.
Wuya tilted his head.
"Should I learn?"
Xueyi stomped toward him, snatched the broom from his hands, and shoved it aside.
"You worry me. That's enough."
He blinked.
Before he could reply, she pushed him toward the warm interior of the house.
"Go sit by the fire!"
"I—"
"Now!"
Wuya sighed as she dragged him.
Tianhai watched the scene from the kitchen door, a quiet laugh forming under his breath. His eyes, however, were not relaxed.
He had felt it as soon as the sun rose:
Today was the day.
Sixteen years.
Sixteen winters.
Sixteen cycles of sun and moon—
All building to this moment.
The fragments inside Wuya's soul had been turning for months, shifting like a child waking from a long sleep.
Tonight, they would open.
And Tianhai knew what that meant:
Watchers would sense it.
Heaven would stir.
Old enemies would awaken.
Old destinies would snap into place.
And Wuya would step onto a path that could not be undone.
---
A Quiet Morning Before the Storm
Wuya sat at the low table, pouring tea into three mismatched cups.
"Father," he said softly, "will you have some?"
Tianhai took the cup, fingers steady though his mind was not.
Xueyi sat beside Wuya, legs tucked under her, eyes darting between the two as if sensing a secret she wasn't allowed to touch.
The wind outside grew soft, brushing the paper windows in gentle breaths.
"Today feels strange," Xueyi said suddenly.
Tianhai looked at her.
"How so?"
"It's like…" She frowned, searching for words.
"Like someone is standing very far away, staring here. I don't like it."
Wuya placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It will be fine."
"No it won't." Her voice tightened.
"I can feel it."
Her Moonveil Seal flickered faintly beneath her robe—only visible to Tianhai's spiritual perception.
Tianhai's heart sank.
Even she felt it.
The awakening was close.
Maybe too close.
---
Noon — First Ripples
Wuya spent the day normally.
He delivered goods for the shop.
Helped old Aunt Ying carry firewood.
Watched Xueyi chase children through the snow.
Listened patiently to customers complain about winter prices.
But beneath every breath, something pulsed.
Not loud.
Not bright.
Not violent.
Just… inevitable.
A rhythm beneath rhythm.
A heartbeat beneath heartbeat.
Wuya felt it faintly—like a memory brushing the edge of thought.
Sometimes he paused in mid-step.
Sometimes he blinked at empty space.
Sometimes he pressed a hand to his chest.
Xueyi noticed.
"What's wrong?" she asked for the tenth time.
"…Nothing."
But his fingers curled slightly.
"Your face looks weird," she accused.
He touched his cheek.
"How?"
"Too calm."
Xueyi puffed her cheeks.
"When you get too calm, something bad happens!"
He looked at her softly.
"You're overthinking."
"No, YOU'RE underthinking!"
Tianhai nearly choked on his tea.
The girl was terrifyingly accurate.
---
Evening — The First Fracture
The sun dipped into the horizon, painting the sky crimson.
Tianhai closed the shop early.
"We're staying in tonight," he said.
Xueyi blinked.
"Why?"
"It's cold."
"You lie badly, Father."
Tianhai coughed.
"Just stay inside."
Wuya nodded without question.
He always obeyed.
They sat around the fire as night fell. Snow deepened outside, softening the world in stillness.
The peach tree rustled despite the windless air.
Then—
Wuya straightened suddenly.
Xueyi looked at him.
"…Wuya?"
He didn't respond.
His eyes dilated slightly, pupils shrinking like a predator sensing danger.
Tianhai stood instantly.
"It's starting."
Wuya's breath quickened—not in fear, but in clarity, as if the world had shifted into focus.
A pulse burst through his chest.
Silent.
Invisible.
Deafening to Tianhai's senses.
Xueyi gasped.
"What—?"
Wuya pressed a palm to his chest.
"It… woke up."
The air trembled.
Xueyi grabbed his arm.
"Wuya—!"
He didn't collapse.
He didn't scream.
He didn't glow.
The awakening was not dramatic.
It was deep.
Ancient.
Quiet.
Like a door opening in the depths of an ocean after sixteen years of stillness.
---
Inside Wuya — A Sleeping Power Opens
The world around him dimmed.
A vast space unfolded behind Wuya's eyes—an endless sea of shifting light, threads of energy drifting like quiet stars.
Three faint sparks flickered at the core of his being—
the fragments Aotian had placed before sending him away.
For sixteen years they had watched, listened, absorbed, and grown.
Now they awakened:
A soft pulse.
A silent glow.
A surge of meaning without words.
The first fragment expanded—
A small panel of light flickered, not written, not spoken, but understood directly by Wuya's soul:
God-Level Growth System — Awakening (Initial State)
Core Status: Dormant → Active
Then a second fragment awakened:
Authority of Time: Locked → Initialization
A faint warmth passed through Wuya's body.
Then the third fragment:
Authority of Fusion: Locked → Initialization
Only the basic framework.
Only the first breath.
Only a whisper of what would come later.
No instructions.
No voice in his mind.
No floating notifications.
Just instinct—
a deep understanding awakening in him.
He inhaled.
The endless space closed.
His awareness returned to the courtyard.
---
Wuya Opens His Eyes
He exhaled softly.
The fire crackled.
Snow drifted outside.
Xueyi's hand clutched his sleeve.
Tianhai watched him with a heavy expression.
"Are you hurt?" Xueyi whispered.
Wuya shook his head.
"No."
Xueyi hugged him tightly, face buried in his chest.
"You scared me."
He raised a hand, hesitated, then gently placed it on her back.
"…Sorry."
Tianhai approached him slowly, stepping across the tatami floor.
"What do you feel, Wuya?"
Wuya looked at his palm.
"I feel…"
He searched for the word.
"…clear."
"Clear?" Tianhai repeated.
Wuya nodded.
"As if… everything was blurry before, but now the world is sharper. Closer."
He touched his chest.
"And something inside me… opened."
Tianhai's brows furrowed.
"Do you know what it is?"
Wuya closed his eyes.
"…A guide."
Not fully awake.
Not fully formed.
But present.
Waiting.
Tianhai exhaled slowly.
"So it has started."
---
The Heavens React
The moment Wuya awakened, the mortal world trembled—not physically, but spiritually.
Across distant realms:
A sleeping immortal frowned in meditation.
A reclusive divine beast opened one eye.
A forgotten ancient in an abandoned temple stirred.
A transcendent drifting in the Void snapped awake.
A tiny ripple had appeared in destiny—
a ripple that should not exist.
A ripple that did not belong to heaven.
A ripple tied to a forbidden child.
They felt it.
Every one of them.
But Tianhai felt them too.
He sensed dozens—no, hundreds—of distant gazes turning toward the mortal world like birds noticing a spark in the dark.
His jaw tightened.
"Wuya," he said quietly, "stay close to me tonight."
The boy nodded.
Xueyi clung to Wuya's sleeve without being told.
Tianhai stepped outside, his eyes scanning the night sky. Snow fell lightly, cold and pure.
He raised his hand.
A thin, nearly invisible veil of mortal mist spread across the city—
his own technique, perfected over centuries, hiding everything beneath the sky.
He whispered:
"Look elsewhere."
Far above, countless curious senses hesitated…
…and turned away.
The mortal world dimmed.
Silence returned.
But only temporarily.
---
After the Awakening
Back inside the house, Wuya sat quietly by the fire. Xueyi sat beside him, leaning against his shoulder.
Tianhai studied him carefully.
"Wuya," he asked gently, "do you feel anything else? Pain? Heat? Voices?"
"No," Wuya said.
"Only… strength."
Xueyi looked up.
"What kind of strength?"
Wuya looked at his hand.
"Not the kind used to hit or lift things…"
He closed his fingers slowly.
"…the kind used to change."
Tianhai froze.
Xueyi blinked.
"Change what?"
Wuya shook his head.
"I don't know yet."
The moonlight slipped through the window and fell across Wuya's face. His expression was calm, thoughtful—too thoughtful for someone awakening supernatural power for the first time.
He spoke again, softer:
"It feels like I've been asleep for a long time."
Tianhai nodded slowly.
"And now you're awake."
Wuya met his eyes.
"Father… what am I supposed to do now?"
Tianhai exhaled.
"You live."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
Wuya waited.
"And when danger comes," Tianhai added softly, "you face it without fear."
Wuya nodded.
Xueyi squeezed his arm.
"You won't face it alone."
He looked at her.
"…I know."
---
Midnight — The First True Test
The world was quiet when Wuya rose from his bed.
He hadn't been asleep.
Something tugged him outside.
The peach tree stood in the courtyard, branches bare, snow resting lightly on its limbs.
Wuya approached it.
The wind paused.
The snow paused.
The world paused.
Then—
A faint glow formed on the trunk.
Not bright.
Not large.
Just a thin line of light.
Wuya raised his hand and touched it.
The light pulsed gently.
His senses sharpened.
He felt…
Water beneath the soil.
Roots gripping the earth.
Sap flowing like breath.
The memory of blossoms.
The anticipation of spring.
He whispered:
"I can hear you."
The peach tree swayed slightly in response.
The first manifestation of his awakened perception.
Not magic.
Not Qi.
Not cultivation.
Insight.
Tianhai watched from the shadows, eyes wide despite everything he already expected.
"He awakened faster than I thought…"
He stepped forward silently.
"Wuya."
The boy turned.
Tianhai approached him, snow crunching under his feet.
"From now on, the world will feel louder to you."
Wuya nodded.
"Do not reveal what you sense," Tianhai warned.
"To anyone."
"I won't."
Xueyi appeared at the door, sleepy-eyed, shivering in her night robe.
"Why are you two whispering outside…?"
Tianhai smiled gently.
"Nothing. Go back inside."
She stumbled forward and grabbed Wuya's sleeve.
"Not without him."
Wuya sighed.
"I'm coming."
---
The Path Begins
The next morning dawned with clear skies and crisp air. Snow melted slowly in the courtyard.
Xueyi cooked breakfast, humming softly.
Tianhai sharpened a kitchen knife, pretending everything was normal.
Wuya sat at the table, fingers lightly tapping—a rhythm matching the silent pulse within his chest.
Today, he felt different.
Stronger.
Clearer.
Closer to something vast.
He looked up at Tianhai.
"Father."
"Yes?"
"…What am I now?"
Tianhai set the knife down slowly.
"A boy," he said softly.
"Who has taken his first step."
Wuya considered that.
"And the next steps?"
Tianhai looked outside at the bright winter sky.
"Those," he said, "are yours to choose."
Xueyi placed a bowl of steaming porridge in front of him.
"And mine to watch," she added, glaring at anyone—visible or invisible—who dared disagree.
Wuya smiled.
For the first time, it wasn't a calm smile.
It was a real one.
A future had begun.
A destiny had awakened.
A storm was coming.
But for now—
He was simply Wuya.
And the world had just started to change because he opened his eyes.