The Outsider

Years passed, and the ominous aura that had surrounded Kai's birth faded into whispered legends among the villagers of Blackthorn. Yet, the child himself remained a source of unease and fascination.

By his fifth summer, Kai stood out starkly among the other children. While they played in the dusty streets, chasing each other with sticks for swords, Kai sat alone, his piercing gaze fixed on the distant mountains. His body, small but already toned, hummed with barely contained energy.

"Freak," the other children would mutter as they passed him. "Monster." But Kai paid them no mind. Their words were meaningless to him, as insignificant as the buzzing of flies.

One sweltering afternoon, as Kai sat in his usual spot at the village's edge, he felt a presence approach. It was Old Man Chen, the village elder who had been present on the night of his birth.

"Young Kai," Chen's gravelly voice broke the silence. "Why do you not play with the other children?"

Kai turned his gaze to the elder, his eyes unnaturally sharp for a child his age. "They are weak," he said simply. "Their games are pointless."

Chen's bushy eyebrows rose. He had heard rumors of Kai's precociousness, but to hear such words from a five-year-old was unsettling. "And what would you rather do, child?"

A spark of interest flickered in Kai's eyes. "I want to cultivate. To become strong."

Chen nodded slowly. He had expected this. From the moment of his birth, Kai's meridians had been fully open, a phenomenon that should have allowed him to begin cultivating immediately. Yet, surprisingly, the boy had shown no outward signs of cultivation.

"Very well," Chen said after a long pause. "Come with me."

Kai followed the elder to a small, dilapidated shrine at the outskirts of the village. Inside, dust covered everything except a small altar where a single, ancient scroll lay.

"This," Chen said, gesturing to the scroll, "is the only cultivation manual our village possesses. It has been passed down for generations, but few have had the talent to progress beyond the most basic levels."

Kai's eyes locked onto the scroll, a hunger evident in his gaze. Without waiting for permission, he reached out and unrolled it. As his eyes scanned the contents, a smile spread across his face—not the innocent grin of a child, but the satisfied smirk of a predator that had found its prey.

"I will master this," Kai declared, his voice filled with certainty.

Chen felt a chill run down his spine. He had expected enthusiasm, perhaps even arrogance, but the cold determination in Kai's voice was unnerving. "Remember, young Kai," he cautioned, "cultivation is not just about power. It is a path of—"

As night fell, Kai remained in the shrine, absorbing every detail of the ancient manual. His Qi, dormant until now, began to stir. With each breath, he could feel the energy of the world around him, waiting to be harnessed, to be dominated.

They watched with a mixture of awe and fear as the young boy practiced forms that no five-year-old should have been able to master. They whispered among themselves when tremors shook the ground as Kai channeled his Qi. And they shuddered when they caught glimpses of his eyes, now glowing with an inner power that seemed to grow by the day.

Zhao Wei and Lin Mei, Kai's parents, grew increasingly distant from their son. They had tried to love him, to treat him as they would any child, but Kai's coldness and the fear he instilled in them proved too much to bear. They provided him with food and shelter, but little else. Kai, for his part, seemed not to notice or care about their emotional withdrawal.

The Book given by Chen was just normal and was one which he didn't used for a long time.