Chapter 10: The First Lessons of the Azure Path
The moment Mingye's scream cut off, the clearing fell into a silence so heavy it seemed to press down on the trees themselves. Even the wind dared not move.
Pingli slowly lifted his hand from Mingye's back and released a long, shaky breath. Sweat slicked his forehead despite the cool air.
Aorun's eyes narrowed. "Pingli," he said quietly, "are you sure you know what you just did?"
Pingli wiped his brow with one sleeve. "Of course I know. I'm not senile yet."
Huosang stepped forward, flames flickering anxiously across her hair. "Then why hasn't the boy woken up? Did you—" she pointed an accusing finger at him "—kill him?"
Pingli scoffed hard enough his cheeks wobbled. "If I wanted him dead, he'd be ash and bones already. Don't insult me."
Aorun crossed his arms. "Then explain why he is motionless."
Pingli opened his mouth—but before he could reply, Mingye's fingers twitched.
Gu Shan gasped so loudly it echoed. "He's alive!"
Everyone snapped their attention to the small figure sitting in stillness.
A moment later, Mingye's eyelids fluttered… and he opened his eyes.
He blinked once, twice, disoriented. But he was breathing.
Huosang exhaled loudly in relief. "Oh, thank the fires, I was about to burn Pingli."
"You burn anything of mine and I'll cook your feathers," Pingli grumbled.
"Try and cook my feathers and see if you don't die," she threatened back.
Pingli ignored her and clapped his hands together.
"Right! Now that you're alive, it's time to teach you the little you can actually learn right now."
Mingye nodded.
Pingli continued. "You'll need it. You're entering the forest soon, after all."
Gu Shan frowned. "Are you sure he can learn anything in this condition?"
"He cannot learn advanced techniques," Pingli said. "His dantian is still locked. But he can learn simple things—foundational things—that will help him not die."
Mingye sat up straighter. His eyes sparked with determination. "What do I learn?"
Huosang held up a hand. "Hold on. He just screamed like death was chewing his bones. He needs rest." She crouched near Mingye, voice softening. "You're a child. Let your body breathe. We can train tomorrow."
Mingye shook his head immediately.
"No. I want to start now."
Huosang's eyes widened. "Mingye—"
"The faster I learn," Mingye said, turning to Pingli, "the faster I can get rid of the poison, right?"
Pingli blinked, impressed. "Well… yes."
"Then I'm ready," Mingye said firmly. "Please teach me."
Monkey stepped forward, tail flicking. "Mingye," he said gently, "what you're about to learn won't be powerful. You are not going to be on the level of others immediately. Are you still—"
"I don't care," Mingye said without hesitation. "I'll still learn them."
Monkey paused… then nodded once and glanced at the others.
Huosang's brows pulled together in worry. "Mingye," she tried again, voice soft as ash flakes. "If you start this, there is no turning back. Cultivation is pain, danger, fear. You can still live without fighting. You can grow up peacefully like a child is meant to."
Mingye's eyes lowered.
Peaceful.
He imagined himself living quietly, pretending nothing happened… while his clan burned… while his siblings died… while his parents—
He clenched his fists in anger. He couldn't live peacefully. He could not do it at all. Peacefulness was not a part of him anymore.
"I wouldn't feel better," he whispered. "Not like that. Not after what happened."
Huosang's expression wavered. "You're so young. You should enjoy your life."
Mingye shook his head.
"I want to fight. I want to live. I want to be strong."
Huosang sighed deeply, shoulders sinking. "You should rest. Truly."
"I'm not in pain anymore," Mingye said. "And if you won't teach me today, I'll ask someone else."
Gu Shan burst into laughter. "The boy is determined! I like him."
Aorun chuckled. "Since the boy wants to learn, then we will teach him."
He stood immediately and the others turned to him.
Mingye blinked. "You… will teach me?"
Aorun nodded. "Your body cannot handle complex arts. Your meridians are weak, your foundation is unstable, and your dantian is sealed. But if you are going into the forest, then you need something to protect you. Something you can use to defend yourself and fight back."
He stepped in front of Mingye, towering over the small boy.
"I will teach you the Azure Dragon's first step," he said.
Huosang exhaled. "At least start with something gentle."
Aorun's lips twitched. "Pingli never said we should start with something gentle. He said simple. The two do not correlate."
Mingye stood quickly, wiping the last remnant of the tears from his cheeks. "I'm ready."
"Follow me," Aorun said, turning away.
Mingye hurried after him as the others stepped aside.
Aorun stopped at an open patch of earth, smooth enough for training and not too far from where they had been before.
He gestured. "Stand here."
Mingye obeyed instantly.
Aorun's voice dropped low, almost ceremonial. "The Azure Dragon spreads its roots in the heavens and its claws on the earth. Before you learn to strike, you must learn to stand."
Mingye blinked. "Stand?"
Huosang chuckled softly. "Trust me, child—Aorun's basics are harder than most advanced techniques."
Aorun continued without reacting.
"For now, you will learn one thing only: The Azure Dragon's Grounding Stance. The foundation of all martial techniques."
Mingye nodded eagerly.
"Widen your feet," Aorun instructed. "Shoulder width."
Mingye did.
"Lower your center of gravity."
He obeyed.
"Straighten your back. Relax your shoulders. Bend your knees slightly. Imagine your feet rooting into the earth."
Mingye tried.
Aorun moved behind him and—using only two fingers—pressed lightly on Mingye's shoulder.
Mingye's legs trembled violently.
He nearly collapsed.
Aorun lifted a brow. "You see? You are unstable."
"Begin again," Aorun said.
Mingye reset his stance.
Aorun inspected him, then nodded. "Now breathe."
Mingye inhaled—and nearly toppled again as his torso shifted too far forward.
"No," Aorun said, tone flat. "Do not breathe like a frightened rabbit. Breathe like a dragon."
"What does that mean?" Mingye asked weakly.
"It means breathe like you're not about to die," Aorun told him.
That confused Mingye more because he wasn't breathing like he was about to die before.
Aorun caught on to the fact that Mingye was confused and demonstrated.
He inhaled slowly then exhaled steadily, his body still and unmoving as he did so.
"Now, try again," he said to Mingye.
Mingye copied the movement. It wasn't perfect—his breath hitched, his shoulders rose—but he tried.
And tried again.
And again.
Aorun corrected him for every mistake while the others watched quietly.
Minutes passed. Then half an hour. Then an hour.
Mingye's legs shook violently. Sweat dripped down his temples. His arms trembled.
But he didn't stop.
Finally, Aorun nodded.
"Good," he said.
Mingye marveled. "R-Really?"
"Yes. Good enough not to be instantly flattened by a squirrel."
Huosang choked on a laugh.
Pingli snorted. "That's high praise from him."
Aorun stepped closer and tapped Mingye's wrist. "Now. The first technique."
Mingye straightened, excitement surging.
Aorun lifted his arm. "I'll be teaching you just one technique for now. It is called the Azure Thrust. And it is one of the most basic techniques. It's simple and direct, and most people underestimate it—but if used well, it can even destroy mountains."
Mingye paid attention, listening to every word. His brows scrunched up in concentration.