Prelude to Martial Soul Awakening

Morning light always came especially gently to Sacred Soul Village. June's breeze, carrying the fragrance of wheat, drifted into the blacksmith shop and settled by Tang San and Lin Zhixia's pillows.

Tang San was awakened by the crowing of roosters outside the blacksmith shop. When he opened his eyes, Lin Zhixia was already sitting on a wooden stool in the corner, clutching the Bronze Arrowhead and gently stroking it in the morning light. Over the past year, she had changed considerably—her once frail body had filled out somewhat, and a faint flush had appeared in her face. Yet her eyes still held a calmness that did not suit her age. Only when she touched the arrowhead would a glimmer of wistful remembrance flash through them.

"Today, the Village Chief said he'd take us to the Spirit Hall Branch in the village to register our names. We'll awaken our Martial Souls next month." Tang San got up and rubbed his eyes, his voice carrying the clear brightness unique to a young boy. He scooped up a ladle of water from the water vat and offered half to Lin Zhixia. "Are you ready to go take a look?"

Lin Zhixia accepted the ladle, her fingertips touching its cool porcelain surface. She nodded softly. "Mm."

Over the past year, she had followed Tang San into the mountains to gather herbs and firewood, and she had learned to identify iron ore from Tang Hao. Everyone in Sacred Soul Village treated her well—Aunt Wang would give her newly sewn cloth clothes, while Uncle Li taught her how to weave Bamboo Baskets. Yet she had never dared to truly let herself go. Only in front of Tang San and Tang Hao would she say a few more words.

After breakfast, Tang Hao handed them two sharpened sickles. "Go help Aunt Wang harvest wheat in the fields west of the village. Remember to come back early this evening. Don't delay your registration." When his gaze fell on Lin Zhixia, it softened a little. "Awakening a Martial Soul is important. Don't be too nervous. No matter what Martial Soul you awaken, live well."

Lin Zhixia tightened her grip on the sickle and replied quietly, "Thank you, Uncle Tang."

She understood what Tang Hao meant—her Lin Family's Star River Shattering Bow was a top-tier Tool Martial Soul. Back then, because their Martial Soul was too unusual and they had refused to submit to Spirit Hall, the entire family had been massacred. Tang Hao feared she would follow in their footsteps, but she had always held a stubborn resolve in her heart: she wanted to awaken a Martial Soul like her father's, become a powerful Soul Master, and avenge her parents with her own hands.

The two carried bamboo baskets toward the western end of the village, meeting quite a few villagers along the way.

"Little San, Zhi Xia, off to harvest wheat?" Grandpa Zhang greeted them with a smile as he passed by. He was carrying freshly bought candied hawthorns and casually handed them two skewers. "You'll awaken your Martial Souls next month. Maybe Sacred Soul Village will produce two Soul Masters!"

Tang San accepted the candied hawthorns and thanked him with a smile. "Thank you, Grandpa Zhang. We'll work hard."

Lin Zhixia also said thank you, carefully placing her candied hawthorn into her bamboo basket. This was her first time eating one. Tang San had brought her one last year, and she had remembered that sweet-and-sour flavor for a long time.

When they reached the wheat field, the golden stalks rolled like waves in the wind. Aunt Wang was bent over harvesting wheat, her forehead covered in beads of sweat. Seeing them arrive, she immediately straightened up and smiled. "You two came at just the right time. Come rest for a bit—I just cooked some mung bean soup."

Tang San and Lin Zhixia did not rest. They picked up their sickles and began harvesting alongside her. Tang San's movements were highly practiced. Having trained in concealed weapons in his previous life at the Tang Sect, he had exceptional control over the strength in his hands. With each rise and fall of his sickle, the wheat stalks fell neatly to the ground. Lin Zhixia learned more slowly. At first, she kept cutting the stalks unevenly, but after practicing with Tang San for half a month, she gradually became more proficient. Still, after cutting for a while, she had to straighten up and rub her arms. She was weaker than Tang San, and bending over for too long always tired her out.

"Take a break and have some mung bean soup." Seeing sweat bead at the corner of her forehead, Tang San handed her a bowl of cooled soup. "Don't push yourself so hard. Aunt Wang isn't rushing us."

Lin Zhixia accepted the bowl and drank in small sips. The light sweetness of the mung beans spread through her mouth. Looking at Tang San's busy back, warmth rose in her heart. Over the past year, Tang San had always been like this—helping her carry heavy bamboo baskets, reminding her to avoid poisonous insects while gathering herbs, and silently sitting beside her whenever she had nightmares at night, until she fell sound asleep.

She knew Tang San had secrets. For example, he could always identify herbs with uncanny accuracy; he knew strange methods of setting traps; and sometimes, he would stare blankly at the moon while murmuring words like "Tang Sect" and "concealed weapons." But she never asked, just as Tang San had never asked about her parents. They each had their own pasts, yet without realizing it, they had become the people each trusted most.

By evening, the two headed back with bamboo baskets full of wheat. When they passed the Village Chief's home, he was standing at the entrance waiting for them.

"Little San, Zhi Xia, come register your names." The Village Chief held a thick book in his hands. After opening it, he dipped his brush in ink. "Write down your names and ages. I'll send them to the Spirit Hall Branch tomorrow."

Tang San wrote his name first—"Tang San, six years old." His handwriting was neat and forceful, not at all like that of a six-year-old. Lin Zhixia looked at the blank space in the book, her fingers trembling slightly. She accepted the brush and carefully wrote the three characters for "Lin Zhixia," stroke by stroke, then added "six years old" beside them.

"Zhi Xia, your handwriting is beautiful." Looking at the elegant script in the book, the Village Chief could not help praising her. "I heard you've been learning to read and write from Tang Hao. It seems you've studied very diligently."

Lin Zhixia pressed her lips together without speaking. Her father had taught her to write. When she was little, he would always say that a girl should have beautiful handwriting and strength of character. Now, as she wrote her own name, it was as though she were telling him: she still remembered his words. She would live well, and she would carry on with the Lin Family's spirit.

When they returned to the blacksmith shop, Tang Hao was forging iron beside the furnace. Sparks landed on his coarse cloth shirt, leaving tiny black marks. Seeing the two return, he stopped swinging his hammer. "Finished registering?"

"Mm. The Village Chief said he'll send it over tomorrow." Tang San set the bamboo basket in a corner and walked to the furnace to help Tang Hao add firewood. "Father, what kind of Martial Souls do you think we'll awaken?"

Tang Hao picked up a pair of tongs and placed a red-hot iron block on the anvil. When his hammer fell, it gave off a deafening clang. "Martial Souls depend on fate, but also on one's character. Some awaken top-tier Martial Souls yet become worthless. Others awaken ordinary Martial Souls but still carve out their own paths." His gaze swept over Lin Zhixia. "Zhi Xia, don't cling too tightly to the Martial Souls of the past. If your father were still alive, he would want you to live for yourself at least once."

Lin Zhixia clenched the Bronze Arrowhead in her hand until her fingertips turned white. She knew Tang Hao meant well, but she could not forget the look in her parents' eyes before they died, nor could she forget the sneers of those people from Spirit Hall. Those memories were branded into her bones, leaving her unable to let go.

That night, the blacksmith shop was quiet, with only the occasional crackle of charcoal in the furnace.

Tang San lay on the haystack, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. In his previous life, he had never encountered things like Martial Souls or Soul Masters. He felt both curious and expectant. He wanted to understand this world's system of power, to know whether he could awaken a Martial Soul suited to cultivating concealed weapons, and even more, to know whether he could become strong enough to protect the people around him.

He turned his head and saw that Lin Zhixia was still sitting on the wooden stool, holding the Bronze Arrowhead in her hands. Moonlight shone through the crack in the door and fell over her, as if coating her in silver.

"Still not asleep?" Tang San asked softly.

Lin Zhixia looked back at him and shook her head. "I can't sleep. I was thinking... about Father's Martial Soul." Her voice was quiet and carried a trace of confusion. "Father said the Star River Shattering Bow required extremely powerful Spiritual Power to control. I'm afraid I won't awaken it. I'm afraid I won't become a powerful Soul Master. I'm afraid I won't be able to take revenge."

This was the first time she had spoken of her fears before Tang San. Over the past year, she had always kept her emotions buried inside, but faced with the approaching Martial Soul Awakening, she could no longer stop herself from panicking. She feared she would not even have the right to seek revenge.

Tang San sat up and walked over to her. He pulled a small wooden box from his clothes and opened it. Inside was a tiny bow and arrow carved from peach wood, with delicate star patterns etched along the arrow shaft.

"I carved this yesterday." Tang San handed the wooden bow to her. "I heard you describe the Star River Shattering Bow before, so I tried carving one. No matter what Martial Soul you awaken, I'll help you. If you want to become a powerful Soul Master, I'll cultivate with you. If you want revenge, I'll help you find that murderer."

Lin Zhixia took the wooden bow, her fingertips brushing over its smooth grain. Tears suddenly fell from her eyes. She looked at Tang San's clear eyes, then at the crooked little star patterns on the bow. The confusion and fear in her heart seemed to be scattered a little by that small wooden bow.

"Thank you, Tang San," she said through a sob.

Tang San scratched his head and smiled. "We're friends."

That night, Lin Zhixia placed the wooden bow beside her pillow. Holding the Bronze Arrowhead, she finally slept peacefully. She dreamed of her father standing beneath a river of stars, the Star River Shattering Bow in his hand, smiling as he told her, "Zhi Xia, live well. Protect the people you want to protect."

Outside the window, the moonlight gradually faded, and the horizon turned pale with dawn. Smoke rose slowly from the kitchens of Sacred Soul Village. The air was filled with the fragrance of wheat and firewood, while the story of Tang San and Lin Zhixia was about to turn to a new page at the moment of their Martial Soul Awakening.