Xiao Huzi's mind cleared as if a storm had passed, leaving the skies bright and tranquil.

Suddenly, his internal energy surged uncontrollably, as though a gate within him had swung open. The meridians in his body began greedily absorbing the surrounding natural energy, drawing it in like a vortex.

Feeling the storm within him, Xiao Huzi quickly focused, sitting cross-legged as he guided and refined the chaotic energy coursing through his veins.

Beads of sweat trickled down his face, but his expression remained serene. Time passed in a blur, and two hours later, his eyes snapped open.

Xiao Huzi clenched his fists, the sensation of immense strength coursing through him. "Heavenly Ascension Stage," he murmured. He flexed his fingers, marveling at the surge of energy within him.

A chilling realization struck him—he could obliterate his previous self with a single move. The thought both terrified and exhilarated him, sending a shiver down his spine.

His thoughts shifted, his plans changing like the winds after a storm. "I can't remain here any longer," he murmured to himself. "I had planned to stay until I reached the Heavenly Ascension Stage, but now that I have, this place can no longer contain me. I must explore the world, temper my heart further, and seek the truths I have yet to uncover."

Without hesitation, he quickly penned a note to Ming Chen, his handwriting steady and deliberate.

"Little Brother, I am leaving the shop to you. Treat it as your own. I have set out on a journey to pursue my path. Take care of yourself and follow the life you deem fit."

Leaving the note on the counter, Xiao Huzi stepped outside. The night greeted him with a crisp, cold breeze that kissed his face. He looked up at the black sky, where the moon hung resplendent, its silvery light bathing the earth in an ethereal glow.

"I never noticed," he said softly, "how beautiful the moon truly is. Can I one day reach it?" His voice carried a hint of longing.

With a flick of his sleeve, Xiao Huzi began to ascend. His body floated upwards, defying gravity—a feat possible only because he had reached the Heavenly Ascension Stage. The cold wind rushed past him as he rose higher and higher, the earth shrinking beneath him.

Eventually, he reached an incredible height, his breath hitching as he gazed at the moon. It seemed impossibly vast, dominating his vision. Its surface, so close yet unreachable.

"The world is vast," he thought. "So much lies beyond what I have seen or known. But this only solidifies my resolve. There is so much yet to discover, so many challenges left to face."

Pausing, he closed his eyes and allowed his internal energy to halt. The power holding him aloft dissipated, and gravity reclaimed him. He began to fall.

The wind howled in his ears, tugging at his robes and hair as he plummeted toward the earth. Yet, within the chaos of the fall, Xiao Huzi found peace. His heart was unshaken, his mind as calm as a still lake.

As the ground rushed to meet him, the image of himself splattered across the earth briefly crossed his mind. At the last moment, he reactivated his internal energy, his body slowing and stabilizing just before impact. He landed gently.

Xiao Huzi stood for a moment but after some time, he vanished in a blink, reappearing silently in front of Ming Chen's modest house. The stillness of the night enveloped him as he extended his spiritual will.

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Through the faint walls, his spirit touched the peaceful scene inside—both father and son were sound asleep. Ming Chen lay curled up, a smile gracing his young face as he mumbled something inaudible in his dreams.

A soft sigh escaped Xiao Huzi's lips as he raised his finger. A gentle white light glimmered at its tip before piercing effortlessly through the wall, flowing like a stream of moonlight into Ming Chen's forehead.

This was his parting gift. The white light contained all of Xiao Huzi's cultivation knowledge, techniques, and experiences—a legacy sealed deep within Ming Chen's subconscious mind. It would remain dormant, untouched, until the boy matured and was ready to inherit it.

As the last traces of the light vanished, Xiao Huzi smiled faintly, a mix of longing and melancholy flickering in his eyes.

"If I could," he murmured softly to the night, "I would have stayed here, watching over you until my last breath. But..." He paused, glancing at the moonlit sky, his gaze distant. "I have a dream to chase, a path to tread, one that takes me far from this quiet life."

"I didn’t want to burden you with this inheritance. The path of martial cultivation is vast, far beyond the ordinary joys of a peaceful life. But it is also a path of blood, hardship, and betrayal. There is beauty in simplicity, in the mundane pleasures of an ordinary existence. I wish you could live such a life—safe, content, and unburdened."

He paused, his expression tightening. "But a selfish part of me hopes you’ll choose to accept it one day. Not for power, not for ambition, but to live without regrets. To explore this vast world, to taste its bitterness and sweetness, and to grow into someone who leaves no dreams unfulfilled."

Xiao Huzi stepped closer to the house, his voice lowering to a whisper as though speaking directly to Ming Chen's sleeping form. "I wish I could see you grow up. To share drinks with you as an adult, to laugh with you as we reminisce about these days."

The corners of his mouth twitched upward into a bittersweet smile. "Farewell, Little Brother. Take care of yourself."

With those final words, he turned, his figure illuminated by the silvery moonlight. "It’s time to go."

Xiao Huzi didn’t look back as he walked away. He had made his decision. The years he had spent living among ordinary people had taught him humility, simplicity, and the profound beauty of fleeting moments. But his journey wasn’t over. His heart called him to wander, to experience, and to learn.

.....

Years flowed by like the ripples on the lake's surface. Xiao Huzi sat by the serene waters, a fishing rod loosely held in his hand. The tranquil silence stretched on, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of the wind and the soft splashes of fish breaking the surface. Yet, he wasn’t there to fish.

He was here to hone his spirit, to temper the ever-restless heart that had weathered countless trials over the decades.

Time was slipping through his fingers like sand. Of the many years granted to him in this world, only one remained. Over the past decades, he had traversed mountains and rivers, explored bustling cities and remote villages, and experienced life in all its myriad forms.

Sometimes, he had been a lowly beggar, humbly bowing his head for a few coppers and understanding the fragility of existence. At other times, he was a heroic figure, cutting down beasts and bandits, earning the gratitude and admiration of the helpless.

There were days when he donned the guise of an enlightened scholar, sharing the wisdom of his travels with those eager to learn. And in quieter moments, he lived as a simple farmer, toiling under the sun, feeling the earth in his hands, and witnessing the miracle of harvest.

Each role, each path, had left an indelible mark on his soul. With every passing experience, his heart grew calmer, his understanding of the world deeper.

Now, he stood at the pinnacle of the Heavenly Ascension Stage. Yet, as the end of his journey loomed, he felt a longing—to return to the place where it all began, the Iron Vein Sect, and spend his final year there.

With a thought, the fishing rod in his hand dissolved into shimmering particles, dissipating like a fleeting dream. It was a construct of his domain. Standing up, he brushed off his robes, his gaze briefly lingering on the tranquil lake, and then, with a wave of his sleeve, he vanished.

In the blink of an eye, Xiao Huzi reappeared at the base of the mountain where the Iron Vein Sect stood majestically. Before him stretched the long, stone staircase leading to the sect, lined with hopeful aspirants eager to earn a place among its disciples.

He ascended the steps leisurely, his gaze occasionally drifting to the surrounding scenery.

At the summit stood the grand gates of the sect, flanked by disciples managing the registration of newcomers. Crowds of hopefuls bustled about, their faces a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

As Xiao Huzi approached the gate, a young disciple stepped forward, blocking his path with a stern expression. But before the disciple could utter a word, his demeanor changed entirely. His eyes widened, and his posture shifted into a deep bow. "Elder..." the disciple murmured, his voice trembling with respect.

Xiao Huzi merely nodded, his calm gaze passing over the young man as he walked forward. His steps were unhurried.

Nearby, another disciple, curious about the interaction, approached the one who had bowed. "Who was that man? Why didn’t you check his identification or stop him from entering?"

The first disciple frowned, confused. "What are you talking about? No one passed without proper authorization."

The questioning disciple scratched his head, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "Strange... I could’ve sworn someone just..." His voice trailed off, and he chuckled awkwardly. "Heh, I must’ve imagined it. You're right; no one passed."

The first disciple shrugged and returned to his duties, dismissing the odd exchange.

This was the subtle yet terrifying power of Xiao Huzi’s spiritual will. With a mere thought, he had altered their memories without them even realizing it, leaving no trace of his presence behind.

Such mastery was a proof of his control, a feat few could hope to achieve even at his level.

Xiao Huzi wandered through the sect's familiar courtyards and pavilions. Disciples practiced martial techniques in neat formations, their shouts filling the air with vitality and determination.

He paused at the edge of a training field, watching as a group of young students sparred under the watchful eyes of their instructor.

Their movements were earnest but clumsy, their spirits burning with the fire of ambition. A faint smile tugged at his lips—a rare expression on his otherwise calm face.

"Nothing has changed."