The first lesson of the Tempest Heart Path was silence.
Not the absence of sound, but the stilling of all distractions—internal and external. It required discipline of breath, body, and mind. A cultivator on this path did not just command qi—they learned to resonate with the very source of natural force.
Li Wei sat cross-legged beneath the Windfall Tree, a sacred spot known to attune cultivators with storm-aspected qi. The blind master, Elder Yunxi, stood nearby like a statue carved from mossed stone.
"You're too loud," she said suddenly.
Li Wei frowned. "I'm not saying anything."
"Not your mouth. Your mind."
She raised her staff and struck the earth.
Boom.
A low wave of spiritual pressure passed through him.
"Again."
He closed his eyes and tried once more. Breath slowed. Heart followed. He let the wind pass through him, instead of trying to catch it.
An hour passed. Then two.
Finally, the ground around him stopped resisting. The wind curved around him like water around a stone.
Elder Yunxi spoke.
"Good. Now listen."
He did.
And beneath the whisper of leaves, he heard something else.
A song. Faint. Distant. Wordless—but charged with emotion.
"That's the echo of those who walked this path before you," she said. "The Tempest Heart holds memory… not just of its wielders, but of its wounds."
That night, as Li Wei meditated again in his stone chamber, the jade pendant pulsed once more.
The first seal shattered.
Light spilled from the charm, swirling around him in tendrils of green and blue.
Then—darkness.
⸻
He stood in a different place.
Not physically—but in spirit.
Before him, a sky cracked by fire. Clouds torn open. And a mountain torn in half. He saw thousands of cultivators screaming as the heavens themselves bled.
At the mountain's peak, a lone figure stood—his hair silver, robes tattered, arms raised.
From his chest, the same jade pendant shone.
"You cannot cage the sky," the figure whispered.
"You cannot bind the wind forever."
He turned, and for a moment—his face became Li Wei's.
Then, everything collapsed into white.
⸻
Li Wei woke up gasping, his robes soaked in sweat.
His pendant now bore only two remaining seals.
He wasn't sure if it had been a vision of the past… or a glimpse of a future.
⸻
The next day, during training, he approached Elder Yunxi and told her what he saw.
The blind woman went silent.
Then: "You saw him."
"Who was he?"
"A heretic," she said softly. "A legend. Or a warning."
Li Wei pressed, "His name?"
She turned her face slightly.
"His name was Li Feng."
His blood turned to ice.
That was the name he had used once. Briefly. Long ago. Before the pendant bound itself to him.
"But that's my—"
"Not your name. Not anymore. But it was his." She raised a hand. "Do not chase ghosts too soon. The past is sharp enough to cut the present."
⸻
Later that night, Li Wei stared at the stars. The pendant was warm against his chest.
If the visions were true… if he was walking the same path as this fallen cultivator…
Then the question was not how far he could go.
But whether he could survive what came next.
Because someone—or something—was watching from beyond the seals.
Waiting.
And the wind had started to whisper his name, too.