Sound-to-Thread (Part Two)

"Don't use your fingers."

A voice so faint it was almost inaudible, yet seemed to bore straight into his mind, suddenly rang in Yutian's ears.

Yutian shuddered as if pricked by a needle and whipped his head around to look.

Everything on the training ground was as usual. The children were absorbed in their own training, the wind mingling with the whistle of kunai and sharp reprimands. No one was looking at him. Even the nearest trainee stood over ten paces away, throwing shuriken with his back to him, showing no sign of having spoken.

Was he hearing things?

In that moment of distraction, the voice sounded again, calm and clear, with a trace of unquestionable coldness, devoid of emotion.

"Look at your wooden basin. Three inches beneath the surface, on the left."

Yutian instinctively lowered his head and looked at the wooden basin before him. Three inches beneath the surface, on the left? There was nothing there, only the rough wood grain at the bottom of the basin.

"I'm not telling you to look at something." The voice seemed to take on the faintest hint of impatience. "I'm telling you to focus your attention there. Imagine your chakra isn't coming out of your fingers, but out of your lower abdomen, down your legs, around to the soles of your feet, then 'flowing' along the ground from your soles to that spot at the bottom of the basin."

This explanation ran completely counter to what the theory instructor had taught.

The theory lessons had explicitly stated that chakra was drawn from the meridians and sent directly to where it was needed for release. Precise and swift, this was the standard training method for Uchiha children. Yet what this voice taught was clumsy and strange, nothing like an orthodox method.

Yutian was full of hesitation, unsure whether to believe it.

"Hurry up," the voice urged again, its tone growing colder. "Kagami Uchiha laughed when you fell into the water for the fourteenth time."

Those words drove into Yutian's heart like a spike of ice.

His face paled, and he no longer hesitated. Kagami's indifference and disdain, the others' mockery and contempt, and the defiance deep in his own bones instantly overwhelmed every doubt. He closed his eyes, desperately cast aside all the convoluted terminology from theory class, and wholeheartedly followed the voice's instructions.

He did not think about his fingers or control. He simply treated his chakra as a warm stream of water, surging out of that warm place in his belly, slowly flowing down through his legs, seeping into his soles, then silently "trickling" forward along the ground, all the way to the designated spot beneath the basin...

He immersed his entire mind in this strange image, shutting out every outside sound, forgetting the cold wind, the mockery, and the wet chill clinging to his body.

The next second, the water in the wooden basin suddenly stirred.

It was not the chaotic, violent rippling from before. Instead, a perfectly round, steady ripple spread slowly outward from the center, touched the basin's sides, then gently rolled back, regular and soft.

Yutian's eyes flew open. He stared fixedly at the water, his heart pounding.

It worked?

He had actually done it!

"Hold it steady." The voice sounded at just the right moment, still even. "Don't get excited. Keep imagining that 'water' flowing to the bottom of the basin, stopping, then... slowly 'lifting' upward."

Lifting?

Yutian quickly gathered his thoughts, trying to understand what that word meant. He imagined the "chakra stream" extending from his soles to the bottom of the basin no longer spreading flat, but slowly surging upward, like an invisible hand gently lifting the water's surface from below...

A miracle happened again.

At the center of the surface, a small stream of water actually rose slightly, forming a trembling, thumb-sized mound, crystal clear. It held steady for about two breaths before collapsing with a soft splash.

Yutian's breathing stopped, and all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head.

For the first time in half a month, he had truly "controlled" his chakra and produced a tangible, effective action! All his confusion, pain, and helplessness vanished at that moment, replaced by a clarity he had never experienced before.

"Remember this feeling." The voice seemed to let out a small breath of relief, though its tone remained flat. "Your mistake before was trying too deliberately. Chakra belongs to you. It isn't an outside tool, but an extension of your limbs. What they teach in theory class is a shortcut for geniuses. Copy it blindly, and it simply won't suit you. Better to use the clumsy method-just treat it as an extra pair of invisible hands and feet."

"Now pour out half the water in the basin, then fill it back up."

Yutian paused, but dared not delay and immediately obeyed. He poured out half the water, then hurried to the water vat and filled the basin with fresh water again. The surface sat only an inch below the rim, almost overflowing.

"Hold your hands a foot above the water," the voice continued.

Yutian steadily raised his hands and held them in midair.

"Don't think about controlling it. Just imagine using those 'invisible hands' to gently lift the water from the bottom of the basin. Raise it to the rim, but don't let any spill."

This demand was several times harder than the last. Cold sweat seeped from Yutian's temples again and slid down his jaw, but he held his breath, gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, doing everything he could to recall that marvelous feeling of "chakra spreading from his soles and lifting upward."

One breath, two breaths, three breaths...

The water in the wooden basin began to rise slowly.

It was extremely slow, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, yet it was truly rising little by little.

After five breaths, the water was level with the rim, bulging slightly into a gentle curve. Like an exceptionally thin yet resilient film of water, it clung tightly to the basin's opening. Even as the cold wind brushed past, not a single drop spilled.

Yutian trembled faintly all over. The simultaneous drain on his chakra and mental energy made his vision darken in waves and his head swim, but he gritted his teeth and stubbornly held on, refusing to ease up.

"That's enough. Release it."

The instant the voice fell silent, Yutian felt a weight lift, and his concentration abruptly relaxed.

The raised surface quivered gently and instantly settled, with only a few droplets splashing over the rim onto the mud, where the cold wind carried them away in moments.

Panting heavily, he crouched with his hands braced on his knees. He looked at the basin of still, clear water before him, then raised his faintly trembling hands. Something shone startlingly bright in his eyes: hope and light he had not known in a long time.

"Go to the pine grove after afternoon training."

After that final sentence, the voice vanished completely, leaving not a trace.

Yutian stayed where he was, taking a long time to recover before slowly straightening. He turned his head, his gaze swiftly searching the training ground before finally settling on a figure thirty paces away.

Yinglang was practicing consecutive kunai throws with two other children. His movements were still somewhat awkward, and his third kunai missed the target entirely, clanging against the side of a wooden post and bouncing away. The two children beside him laughed without restraint. Yinglang merely scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed, and obediently ran to retrieve the kunai.

Everything was just as usual: ordinary, unremarkable, even a little clumsy.

Yutian looked away and lowered his head, staring at his palms, which he held spread wide. That clear, genuine sense of control still lingered throughout his body, faint yet utterly firm.

He slowly clenched his fists, digging his nails deep into his palms, using the pain to remind himself that none of this was a dream.

During the afternoon theory lesson, Yutian sat as straight as a pine.

Yet Yutian no longer tried to understand those complex, obscure terms.

He clung firmly to the "clumsy method" the voice had taught him at noon, imagining chakra as different things: fire as a darting little flame, wind as flowing air, lightning as an exploding tingle... Crude and simple though it was, he actually began to faintly grasp the threshold of chakra nature transformation, no longer completely lost as he had been before.

When the bell rang, the children immediately swarmed outside, laughing and playing as they headed toward the dormitory.

Yutian slowly packed his things and walked unhurriedly at the back, deliberately distancing himself from the crowd. After leaving the side hall of Naka Shrine, he did not return to the dormitory, but quietly turned onto the path leading to the pine grove on the hill behind it.

A thick layer of needles carpeted the autumn pine grove, soft underfoot and rustling faintly with each step. The cold wind passed through the trees, carrying the rich, bitter freshness of pine resin, refreshing the senses. Shut away from the clamor of the training ground, it was so quiet that only the wind remained.

Yinglang was already waiting there.

He leaned beneath a thick old pine, idly scraping the needles on the ground with a pine twig. His posture was casual, without the slightest sign of impatience.

"Young Master Yinglang." Yutian hurried over and addressed him respectfully.

"I told you, call me Yinglang when we're alone." Yinglang did not look up, continuing to scrape at the pine needles, his tone even. "Did you remember the feeling from this morning?"

"I did." Yutian nodded vigorously. After a moment's hesitation, he could not help asking, "That voice..."

"Was me." Yinglang cut him off, casually tossed aside the twig, dusted off his hands, and raised his head to look at Yutian, his gaze calm. "A little trick that takes a shortcut. Don't ask how it works. Even if you did, I couldn't explain it clearly right now. All you need to know is that when I speak to you this way, unless a Special Jōnin skilled in genjutsu or sensory techniques deliberately investigates, there's absolutely no way anyone can detect it."

Though Yutian had already suspected as much, hearing him admit it still made him draw in a sharp breath.

A five-year-old child had actually devised such a secret means of transmitting his voice? Such talent and intellect were truly terrifying.

"That bastard Yuanguang tampered with the theory lessons. Practice the way he teaches, and you won't even get started in three years." Yinglang's tone was calm, as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "The method I taught you is clumsy, but it suits you best. Chakra is yours. Don't treat it like something foreign to be put on a pedestal. Just think of it as an extra organ you've grown. It'll feel awkward at first, but use it enough, and you'll naturally get the hang of it."

"Yes," Yutian replied solemnly.

He was silent for a moment before finally asking the question hidden in his heart. "Why... are you going this far to help me?"