The days stretched on, peaceful yet laden with the unspoken sense that something was coming. The village’s routine remained unchanged, but Shen Mu’s thoughts had wandered far beyond the walls of the small settlement. The traveler’s tales had stirred a restlessness in him—an awareness of a world that stretched beyond the horizon, a world he had only begun to glimpse.

As the morning sun rose higher, Shen Mu found himself standing at the edge of the village once again. The hills were a distant blue on the horizon, and the familiar sight of the forest beyond was more inviting than ever. He stood there, watching the movement of the trees in the wind, listening to the rhythmic sounds of the world around him. Yet, in his heart, he knew that the world was changing. He could feel it—almost as though the air itself had thickened.

His mind lingered on the moment at the orchard, where time had shifted and the world had slowed. The memory was clear, and the sensation of power—not his own, but something he could not yet comprehend—still hummed in the back of his thoughts.

“Are you planning to leave soon?” The voice came from behind him, soft yet clear.

Li Mei had approached quietly, her basket of herbs swinging gently by her side.

Shen Mu turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “Not yet.”

She smiled, though there was a curiosity in her eyes. “You’ve been quiet lately. More so than usual.”

“I’ve been thinking,” he replied simply.

Li Mei studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Sometimes thinking can be dangerous.” She was teasing him, but there was an undertone of something else—concern, perhaps. “The village is small, but it’s safe.”

Shen Mu did not answer immediately. Instead, his eyes shifted back to the hills in the distance. “I don’t know about safety,” he murmured, though his tone was calm. “It’s just… small.”

Li Mei glanced at him sideways, clearly sensing the change in his mood. “What do you mean?”

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He did not answer her. His thoughts were far away, drifting in a sea of uncertainty. He had no intention of leaving just yet, but the pull to understand more was growing stronger by the day. The feeling from the orchard had been a spark, but it had yet to catch fire.

“Shen Mu,” Li Mei said, her voice softer now. “There’s something I’ve noticed. Something about you… It’s like you’re not really here sometimes.”

His gaze snapped back to her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, her tone light but her eyes serious. “You don’t talk much. You just listen. But sometimes, when you’re looking at something, it’s like… like you’re seeing something that no one else can see.”

He said nothing at first, but his expression softened ever so slightly. “I see what I see.”

Li Mei hesitated, but then smiled again, the moment passing. “Well, just be careful. Not everything is as it seems.” With that, she turned and walked back toward the village, her basket swinging with each step.

Shen Mu watched her go, his thoughts drifting once again. The village was safe. But it was also small. He had spent his life here, surrounded by the same people, the same sights. The weight of their ordinary lives pressed on him in a way he could not describe. The world beyond those hills was beckoning, and it was time to understand what that pull meant.

The next few days passed in a blur of routine. Shen Mu found himself less and less interested in the daily tasks that had once seemed so important. His body moved through the motions, but his mind was elsewhere. He spent long hours near the stream, observing the way the water moved, the way the trees swayed in the wind. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would close his eyes and simply feel—feel the world around him, the shifting air, the pulse of life beneath the surface.

It was on one of these days that he felt it again.

It was as subtle as the first time, but this time, he was prepared. As he sat beside the stream, his fingers just brushing the surface of the water, he felt it—the presence. It was not the sensation of time slowing down, but something far older, something he had touched before but never understood. It thrummed beneath his skin, a low hum, as if the very fabric of reality itself was rippling in response to his presence.

His heart beat faster, his mind racing, but he did not move. He let the sensation wash over him, trying to grasp it, understand it. It wasn’t something he could control yet. It wasn’t power in the way that cultivators spoke of power. It was something deeper—a connection to the laws of the world, a part of something greater that only he could feel.

The feeling grew stronger.

The air around him seemed to hum with the energy of the world, like invisible threads connecting him to the forces of nature. He felt the flow of time passing through him, the way the world was constantly shifting, yet he remained the same. It was as if he could hear the world’s heartbeat, and in that heartbeat, he knew that he was not simply a part of it—he was an observer.

And just like that, it faded. The world went quiet again, the energy slipping from his fingertips like water through cracks.

He opened his eyes and exhaled, steadying his breath. It was real.

Later that evening, as the village settled into its usual rhythm, Shen Mu walked back to his home. His steps were deliberate, but his mind was elsewhere. What had he experienced? What had he touched?

He still didn’t know, but for the first time, he wasn’t afraid. The world was vast, and he was just beginning to understand it. The journey, however long it might take, this was the beginning.