Burdens of the Blind

In a forgotten corner of the Duskwind Kingdom, far removed from the politics of those truly in power, lay Emerald Ridge City. It was a small, quiet place — mostly overlooked by those who might otherwise care, for it held little worth noticing. The mountains forming a natural border between the city and the neighboring kingdom were once rich in spirit stones — stones infused with Qi that could grant cultivators months or even years of progress with a single find. But years of war and relentless mining had bled the Emerald Mountains dry, leaving the once-vibrant lands a hollow shell of what they had been.

The evergreen forests that once cloaked the mountains now yielded to the will of the seasons, their branches stripped bare by winter winds. The mortal farmers of the city had long since adapted, planting crops only when the seasons allowed, struggling for whatever meager harvests the tired soil could still provide.

The city itself stood as a shadow of its former glory. Relics of prosperity could still be found if one cared to look — formations etched into the stone walls, once powered by spirit stones to strengthen the city's defenses against demon beasts or invading cultivators. Now they lay dormant, their power long exhausted. Similar formations adorned the walls of the three largest estates in the city — remnants of a time when the Zhao, Jin, and Lian clans had held true influence. Today, those families still clung to what little authority remained, scraping out a living in what many considered a forgotten backwater.

Despite the dreary state of the current city in comparison to the past, it was a bright, clear day. The sharp sound of fists striking training dummies echoed through the open courtyard of one of those estates. Servants bustled about — sweeping, carrying water, or offering refreshments to the youths whose exertions filled the air with grunts and the rhythm of blows.

At the heart of it all stood Bai Mu, a bear-like man with skin darkened by decades under the sun. His long gray hair was tied in a tight topknot, and despite his age, his back remained as straight as a spear shaft. At his waist hung a sword, its hilt marked with the insignia of the Lian Clan.

"Lian Yan! Bend those knees! Look at your brother!" Bai Mu's booming voice rang out across the yard.

Lian Yan, the smallest of the four youths, flushed with effort and embarrassment. Just thirteen, he strove with all his heart to match his older brother's example, but his strength lagged behind. He was only at the second stage of the Body Tempering Realm — his skin had been hardened by the first stage, and now he worked to strengthen his muscles. His stance, as prescribed by the Stone Tiger Method, demanded a low, rooted posture that strained the legs, waist, and back to forge the outer layers of the body.

At Bai Mu's shout, Lian Yan's gaze flicked to his elder brother — the pride of the Lian Clan.

Lian Rui stood tall at seventeen years old, his frame already over two hundred centimeters. His cultivation was the highest among them, having surpassed the third level of Body Tempering and well into the sixth, where he tempered tendons, ligaments, and veins to steel-like resilience.

As Lian Yan watched, Lian Rui moved. He sank into a deep crouch, lowering his center of gravity. His right hand drew back with slow, deliberate tension, embodying the Stone Tiger's coiled power. After holding the pose, he sprang forward — like a tiger unleashed, like an arrow loosed from a drawn bow — his clawed hand driving into the training dummy with explosive force.

"Excellent! Did you see that, Lian Yan? That tension and control are what you need! Feel the ache, feel the strain — that's how you improve! Or do you want to disappoint your father?" Bai Mu barked.

"N-no sir…" Lian Yan stammered, his gaze flickering, almost involuntarily, toward a quiet corner of the courtyard at the mention of disappointment. Then he quickly looked back to his instructor.

Unfortunately for him, Bai Mu noticed.

"Hmph! Seems you have time to think about others. Ten laps around the estate! Go!"

As Lian Yan ran off, Bai Mu's gaze narrowed and focused on the corner of the courtyard as the three remaining youth continued to practice.

A young woman, newly nineteen, sat quietly on a stone bench as if she were one with it — a statue carved from the same slab. Her white robes were spotless, and her posture flawless, her hands resting gracefully atop one another in her lap. Bai Mu often thought she would have been a heavenly beauty, unfit for the mortal world, if not for those glassy eyes.

They saw nothing — and yet, somehow, they seemed to pierce through flesh and gaze directly into one's soul. It was unsettling. Bai Mu hated looking in her direction.

Her name was Lian Xue, and she was the blemish of the Lian Clan — the firstborn of the current patriarch, born out of wedlock during his younger days with some woman whose name had long since been forgotten or deliberately erased. Bai Mu could still recall the uproar when Lian Chengwu returned from his travels with a child in his arms — and worse, a child clearly blind. The council of elders had convened within days, forcing him to take a proper wife to restore the clan's dignity.

She had no cultivation, and no future. The elders had seen to that. While it wasn't impossible for a blind person to cultivate, the elders believed there was no point. After all, how could someone who could not see ever learn to fight?

Yet despite this, she appeared every day, sitting quietly to listen to the sound of fists thudding against the training dummies, her head tilted ever so slightly as if absorbing it all.

And in truth, she was absorbing it all. She loved the rhythm of the training, the sharp exhale of effort, the crack of wood and bone against leather. It was her deepest wish to cultivate too.

"Lian Xue, return to your room. There's no point in you being here," Bai Mu said coldly, his tone devoid of hesitation. Even one glance at her left him weary.

Silent as a ghost, she rose and used the railing of the hallway behind her to guide herself out of sight.

Bai Mu was once again reminded of how much he pitied her. She would forever be a lotus that would never bloom. Her siblings had bright futures. Lian Xue? She had nothing.

"I don't know why she even bothers showing up," a hateful voice rang out.

Bai Mu turned his head, though he already knew who it was.

Her name was Lian Mei — granddaughter of the elders, daughter of the current patriarch and his legal wife, Zhao Yanling, herself daughter of the former patriarch of the Zhao Clan.

There was no love between her and Lian Xue — only hate. Why that hatred existed, Bai Mu neither knew nor cared. He had been hired to train these children, not to ensure they were kind to one another.

"Lian Zhi, take a break. Lian Mei, you too," Bai Mu ordered, deliberately ignoring Lian Mei's scornful glare as he turned to take a break himself.

Lian Zhi, just fourteen and only a year older than Lian Yan, beamed as he eagerly stepped away from the training dummy. A quiet boy, he often went unnoticed — not the eldest, not the youngest, and lacking the particular attention drawn by his sister, Lian Mei.

As Bai Mu walked off, he unfolded a note a servant had handed him earlier. The message bore the seal of the council of elders, summoning him to the audience chamber without delay.

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By now, Lian Xue had already returned to her room. At the very least, her quarters were centrally located — close to everything she regularly visited: the dining hall, the training yard, and her father's chambers. The only place she was far from was the estate's main entrance, though that mattered little to her. She hated leaving the estate and always needed a servant's help when she did.

The familiar sound of the door closing behind her brought a measure of peace. Here, at least, she was alone. No scornful stares. No whispered insults.

She crossed to the center of the room, where the training dummy waited in silence. Lowering herself into the Stone Tiger stance, she let the tension build in her legs and back before lashing out in a swift, ruthless swipe. The strike landed with a dull thud that echoed in the quiet space.

Without hesitation, she reset her posture, sinking low once more. This time, she sprang at the dummy with both hands shaped into claws, striking as fiercely as she could.

If Bai Mu had seen her, he would have been startled — not because her form was perfect (it wasn't), but because of how closely she'd come to mastering the stance simply by listening. By piecing together his instructions, the sound of fists on wood, and the rhythm of breath and movement.

Sweat soon drenched her robes, trickling down her face and back. A faint, sharp odor filled the room — the smell of impurities forced from her body. With every movement, every drop of sweat, she fought to advance along the Body Tempering path — the first realm, and the foundation of every cultivator's strength.

Her mind wandered as she moved, recalling what she'd learned through listening and quiet observation.

The first stage hardened the skin, forming the body's outer shield against the world's blows. The second strengthened the muscles, filling the body with greater power and endurance. The third tempered the outer bones, making them as strong as iron rods.

The fourth refined the marrow, so it would better nourish the blood and renew the body's strength. The fifth fortified the internal organs, hardening them against injury and fatigue. The sixth strengthened tendons, ligaments, and veins, creating a frame both resilient and flexible.

Then came the seventh — the cleansing of the blood itself. The old, the weak, flushed out and replaced by blood rich with vitality. The eighth sharpened the senses, heightening hearing, smell, touch, and other perceptions.

But what of sight? she wondered, her strikes slowing as the thought crept in. How could I strengthen something I never had? Could a stage like that give me what was never mine to begin with?

And finally, the ninth — the unification of the tempered body. A stage where skin, bone, muscle, organ, tendon, and blood moved as one flawless whole. A body without wasted motion, where strength, speed, and reaction blended seamlessly. A body capable of responding to any threat with unrivaled precision.

Her breath came heavy now, chest rising and falling in deep, ragged rhythm. Only then did it occur to her — she had been at this for far longer than she'd intended. She could not tell time as others did, no glance at a sundial or the shifting shadows of the sun. But the burning in her limbs, the trembling of her legs, and the sheer weight of fatigue spoke clearly enough. She must have trained for over an hour, perhaps longer, without even realizing it.

Slowly, she made her way to the dresser, tracing her path along the walls and familiar furniture. The edge of her cot. The groove in the drawer's handle.

Once, long ago, her father had asked her if the world was nothing but blackness. But how could she explain what she didn't see? The world wasn't black. It wasn't anything at all. It existed only through sound, touch, and scent — the only threads connecting her to it.

Her fingers found clean robes. Then she moved toward the tub, feeling her way with practiced care.

Beside the tub stood a small water condenser fitted with a simple formation. When fed a low-quality spirit stone, it would draw forth water as if by magic. Spirit stones — the lifeblood of any cultivator, both currency and key to advancement. A single stone could power a formation, purchase supplies, or shorten months of cultivation into mere days.

Her siblings had spirit stones in abundance, gifted freely to aid their growth and ease their daily lives. Lian Xue, on the other hand, was granted only enough to bathe every other day — as though that alone satisfied her needs.

She placed a stone into the condenser and waited as water slowly filled the tub. When it was ready, she sank into the warmth, letting it soothe her aching body. For a while, she simply breathed, the heat drawing out the last of her tension. Slowly, her mind began to drift...

Until a sharp knock at the door shattered the quiet.