Acceptance

LUO FAN

For days, Nan Wucheng and I buried ourselves in the musty tomes of the temple's ancient library. Tao Liu had generously lent me two invaluable treasures—the Book of the Wind Master and the journal of a long-deceased dual-core grandmaster. Both offered a wealth of knowledge, but it was the grandmaster's journal that captivated me most.

In his careful, almost reverent handwriting, he chronicled his journey toward achieving balance between light and dark. The key, he wrote, lay in mastering a skill that required the harmonious interplay of both energies. Neither core could be neglected or overnourished. Both had to be cultivated together. If one grew stronger than the other, it would spark an internal conflict, a battle that would tear the cultivator apart from within.

The wind was a natural manifestation of this harmony. Its duality—heat rising to create movement, cold rushing in to fill the void—was a mirror of the delicate balance I sought. I marveled at the coincidence that I possessed this wind affinity all along, though I had been oblivious to it.

Was it fate that I'd come to this place, to learn this truth about myself?

The island's constant wind was both a blessing and a reminder. Every gust carried the raw power of nature. One afternoon, as a violent storm swept across the island, I stood by the window of my modest chamber, watching the tempest unfold. Trees bent and cracked under the howling force of the wind, their roots exposed and clinging desperately to the soil. The roar of the storm was almost deafening, and as I witnessed the destruction, I began to ask questions related to my newly-discovered ability.

Could I someday wield the wind with such power? Could I create a storm of this magnitude if I mastered my element?

I sighed, closing the shutters against the raging wind. "I'm thinking too far ahead," I murmured to myself. My cores were still unstable, especially my dark core, and I had far more pressing matters to address before entertaining such ambitions.

I sat on my bed, my gaze falling to the two small vials resting on the table beside me. The elixirs. The ones Ruan Yanjun had given me before we parted ways.

My heart clenched at the thought of him, but I quickly pushed it aside. There was no room for sentimentality.

For weeks, I had refused to take the elixirs, clinging to the faint hope that I could somehow rid myself of the dark core entirely. Perhaps if I tried hard enough, if I meditated long enough, I could return to being the light cultivator I once was. But now, after pouring over the writings of the grandmaster, I understood that such a hope was futile. My transformation was irreversible. I was a dual-core cultivator, whether I liked it or not. The choice before me was stark. It was either I embrace this reality and work toward balance, or I lose both cores and become nothing.

I picked up the Dual Bloom Elixir, holding it up to the dim light of the lantern. This would be the point of no return. If I took it, my light core and dark core would become permanently intertwined. There would be no separating them ever again. My future, my identity, would forever be shaped by this duality.

The other vial, the Pale Revenant Elixir, glimmered darkly beside it. It was meant to nourish my dark core, to give it the strength to match my light core. Only when the two were equal could I achieve balance.

But the thought of deliberately strengthening my dark core felt like an admission of defeat, as though I were surrendering to it.

I closed my eyes, gripping both vials tightly. My mind drifted to Jinjing. If she were still alive, perhaps I could have been content to lose my cultivation entirely, to live an ordinary life by her side. But Jinjing was gone, and so was that possibility. Now, I had no one to lean on, no one I could trust. Not my family, not my master, and certainly not Ruan Yanjun. I had been betrayed, humiliated, and hunted. If I wanted to survive, if I wanted to reclaim my dignity, I could depend only on myself.

In the darkest corners of my soul, I swore to myself that I would never be helpless again. I would never let myself be a pawn, cast into chaos by the schemes or betrayals of others. Not Emperor Gao, not the marquis, not Ruan Yanjun. And most of all, not the White Vulture.

I would fight it all, and I would only stop when there was no breath left in my body.

But first, I needed to fix myself. My light and dark cores were both in chaos, the balance between them utterly destroyed. From the outside, it might have appeared that my dark core had overtaken my light core. Its rampages were undeniable, and the destruction I had wrought in moments of emotional weakness was impossible to ignore. But appearances were deceiving. My dark core wasn't stronger. It was merely feeding from my negative emotions, on the turmoil I had endured.

I uncorked the Dual Bloom Elixir first, the faint aroma of crushed petals and herbs rising to meet my senses. Without hesitation, I drank it down, its taste bittersweet and lingering. Warmth spread through me, gentle at first, but then came the surge—an intense, almost overwhelming flood of energy that forced me to grit my teeth and brace myself.

Next, the Pale Revenant Elixir. This one was darker, thicker, with a metallic tang that turned my stomach. My hand trembled as I brought it to my lips, but I drank it all the same. The sensation was immediate and fierce—a cold, biting energy that coursed through me like shards of ice.

Pain gripped me as the two elixirs began their work. My light and dark cores stirred, reaching out toward one another, clashing and merging in a violent dance. I clenched my fists, breathing hard, as my vision blurred and the room spun. It felt as though my body might tear itself apart, but I held on, determined to see this through.

At last, the storm within me dulled to something bearable, and I collapsed onto the bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.

My gaze fell on the empty vials resting on the table, their contents now coursing through me, rewriting my fate. My chest rose and fell in ragged rhythm, pain still gnawing at my core.

This was only the beginning.