The Cold Observer and the Broken Disciple
Su Xue stood at the edge of the training grounds, her frost-pale robes fluttering in the wind. Around her, disciples of the Celestial Dawn Sect sparred, laughed, and boasted—oblivious to the ruin that would one day claim them all.
Her eyes remained fixed on Lu Xuan.
Pathetic.
The boy moved through his sword forms with stiff precision, his calloused hands gripping the hilt like a farmer clinging to his last tool. No elegance. No grace. Just raw, untrained desperation.
"You're holding it wrong again."
A sneering voice cut through the air. Zhao Feng, a senior disciple with a cruel smirk, strode forward, flanked by two lackeys—Wei Liang, a hulking brute with a permanent scowl, and Mei Ling, a sharp-tongued girl who delighted in others' misery.
Lu Xuan didn't react. He simply adjusted his grip.
Zhao Feng snorted. "Still useless. How did a dirt-stained peasant like you even get into the sect?"
Wei Liang cracked his knuckles. "Probably begged on his knees."
Mei Ling flicked a pebble at Lu Xuan's head. "Or sold his parents' bones for coin."
A muscle twitched in Lu Xuan's jaw.
Su Xue watched, unmoved.
Good. Let them break him.
The sooner he learned the world's cruelty, the sooner he'd harden into the weapon she needed—or the sooner he'd shatter and spare her the trouble.
Yet…
Lu Xuan didn't retaliate. Didn't even glare. He just kept swinging his sword, over and over, as if the insults were nothing more than wind.
That silence unsettled her more than any outburst.
The Ghosts of the Past
Lu Xuan's memories were a graveyard.
His parents had been nameless farmers in the Barren Hills, their lives as brittle as dried wheat. His father's hands had been rough from labor, his breath sour from cheap wine. His mother's love had been a scarce commodity, doled out only when he hauled an extra bucket of water or patched the roof without complaint.
The night the Shadowfang Wolves came, he'd been sent to fetch water from the well.
When he returned, the house was already a ruin.
His father's body lay half-eaten in the dirt. His mother's corpse was curled around a rusted dagger, her fingers stiff around the hilt.
The wolves hadn't even bothered to finish them.
Lu Xuan had buried them himself, digging with his bare hands until his nails split.
No tears. No screams.
Just a single, searing question:
Why was I left alive?
Now, in the sect, he was still nothing. A ghost among cultivators, ignored unless they needed a scapegoat or a punching bag.
But today…
Today, something was different.
The girl—Su Xue—had watched him. Not with pity, but with something colder.
Calculation.
He didn't trust it.
The Trial by Fire
The Path of Flames was a test for outer disciples—a bridge of burning stones spanning a chasm. Most used qi to shield themselves and dash across.
Lu Xuan had no qi to spare.
He stepped onto the first stone. Fire licked at his boots.
Laughter erupted from the crowd.
"Look at the country rat! He's gonna cook alive!" Zhao Feng jeered.
Mei Ling giggled. "Maybe he's trying to season himself for the wolves!"
Lu Xuan kept walking.
The pain was familiar.
Fire seared his skin, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
Why am I doing this?
No answer came.
Then—
A whisper in his veins.
Something dark and hungry uncoiled inside him, responding to the agony.
His vision tinted red.
Yes.
This power—this rage—was the only thing that had ever felt like his.
"Stop."
A hand clamped around his wrist.
Su Xue stood beside him, her grip like ice.
"If you use that power, you'll lose yourself," she said, her voice low.
Lu Xuan stared at her.
Who are you to tell me what to lose?
But the moment passed. The darkness receded.
And for the first time, someone had touched him without aiming to hurt.
The Healer's Hut
After the trial, the sect's physician, Old Man Luo, clicked his tongue as he bandaged Lu Xuan's burns.
"Fool boy. You're lucky you didn't lose your feet."
Lu Xuan said nothing.
Su Xue lingered by the door, arms crossed.
Old Man Luo glanced at her. "You're the one who pulled him off the bridge?"
She nodded.
"Hmph. First kindness he's seen in years, I'd wager."
Lu Xuan's fingers twitched.
Su Xue's expression didn't change. "It wasn't kindness."
A lie.
Old Man Luo chuckled. "Sure, sure. Whatever lets you sleep at night, girl."
Outside, the disciples' voices carried through the window:
"Did you see how he just took it? Like a dumb ox!"
"Bet he'll be demon fodder within the year."
Lu Xuan's hands curled into fists.
Su Xue watched him.
Good.
Let him hate them.
Let him hate everything.
It would make what came next easier.