"You carry a spark of that light, my son…"
The voice brushed against his mind—soft, almost weightless, like a feather skimming across still water.
"A spark… even the heavens might one day fear."
—
Lu Mao's eyes snapped open.
For a few breaths, he didn't move. The world felt strangely thin, as if it hadn't fully decided whether it belonged to a dream or waking life. Cold clay pressed against his back, uneven tiles digging into his shoulders, while a faint morning breeze slipped through his clothes and settled into his bones.
Above him, dawn was beginning to take shape.
Gold bled slowly across the sky, stretching over Azure Sky City and spilling across rooftops and broken beams. The jagged skyline softened under the light, turning ruin into something almost beautiful.
Lu Mao blinked once, then again.
The dream didn't fade.
It lingered, stubborn and quiet, clinging to the edges of his thoughts.
At the corner of his vision, something moved.
He stilled.
She was there.
Faint. Almost translucent. A figure wrapped in soft light, her pitch-black hair drifting around her like liquid shadow. She smiled—gentle, distant—and her lips moved as if speaking to him.
But no sound came.
Lu Mao's breath caught before he could stop it.
He blinked.
And she was gone.
Just like that.
No trace. No ripple. Nothing to prove she had ever been there at all.
…Except for the warmth.
It remained in his chest, a soft, steady pulse—faint, but undeniably alive.
—
He exhaled slowly and rolled onto his side, the rooftop creaking beneath him as loose tiles shifted and scraped against one another. From this height, the city stretched endlessly, rooftops layered over narrow streets while chimneys sent thin ribbons of smoke curling into the cold morning air.
Dawn carried familiar scents upward—fried buns, wet stone, dust, and wood smoke blending into something that belonged only to this place.
Below, life resumed without hesitation.
Carts rattled across uneven cobblestones. Merchants shouted prices with the stubborn conviction that louder meant better. Children tore through alleyways, laughter trailing behind them, chased by curses that lacked any real intent to stop them.
Dogs barked. Chickens complained loudly about existence. Somewhere, something crashed, followed immediately by someone blaming someone else for it.
The city didn't wake gently.
It lurched into motion.
And Azure Sky City breathed—loud, messy, alive.
Lu Mao breathed with it.
—
His fingers twitched slightly against the tile.
He didn't need to think.
Every vibration beneath him—the subtle shift of loose clay, the distant rhythm of footsteps below—flowed into his body like quiet signals, each one carrying meaning.
Awareness came first.
Then balance.
Then control.
The teachings of Jin Wu were no longer lessons he had to recall. They had settled deeper than thought, etched into instinct, shaping the way he moved, the way he listened, the way he existed.
Every motion meant something.
Every shadow held potential.
A small smile formed—lazy, knowing.
Because somewhere between the noise, the chaos, and the quiet pulse in his chest…
He could already feel it.
Opportunity.
He rolled lightly toward the edge of a roof and slipped between two narrow buildings, his body passing through the tight space with practiced ease. In a moment, he was crouched behind a stack of merchant crates in a narrow alley, hidden from sight yet fully aware of everything around him.
Before him, a fruit vendor struggled with several overloaded crates of apples, his face flushed with effort. Not far away, a rice merchant adjusted his weighing scale, muttering as he worked. Two city guards walked lazily nearby, chatting idly as they passed a muddy pit by the roadside.
Lu Mao observed them all with calm attention.
Then his stomach gave a low, untimely growl.
He sighed softly, shaking his head. "Always at the right moment…"
With a flick of his wrist, a coin shot forward.
It struck the base of the apple crate with a sharp crack.
In an instant, the crate burst apart, and dozens of apples scattered across the ground like a red tide. The two guards, caught unprepared, stepped onto the rolling fruit and lost their footing. With startled cries, they tumbled together straight into the muddy pit, splashing filth in every direction.
The fruit vendor turned in alarm—but before he could react further, a thin wire tightened with a subtle pull.
A flour sack behind the rice merchant split open, sending a cloud of white powder into the air. It drifted directly toward the vendor, covering him from head to toe.
For a brief moment, silence hung in the air.
Then laughter broke out among the nearby children.
In the midst of the chaos, Lu Mao darted forward, swift as a shadow, snatching two bright apples before retreating just as quickly.
The vendor wiped flour from his eyes and caught sight of the fleeing boy.
"Shadow Rat! That cursed Shadow Rat again!" he shouted angrily. "Why is it always my apples?! Guards! Where are the guards?!"
The guards in the mud pit were in no state to respond.
However, others at the far end of the street had already noticed the commotion.
"There he is! Stop him!"
Lu Mao did not look back. He ran through twisting alleys and narrow corners, his movements agile and unpredictable, as though he were part of the city itself.
As the guards closed in, he suddenly murmured, "Doppelgänger."
His figure blurred.
At the far end of the alley, an old, hunched man appeared, walking slowly with a crooked back and unsteady steps. The guards rushed past him without a second glance, their focus fixed ahead.
By the time they realized their mistake, Lu Mao was already far away.
"That brat fooled us again!" one of them shouted.
They chased once more, catching sight of him disappearing into another alley. With renewed determination, they followed closely behind, gaining ground with every step.
At last, they lunged forward to seize him—
Only for their hands to pass through empty air.
The figure before them dissolved like mist.
At that very moment, from atop a nearby roof, Lu Mao's voice drifted down with a trace of amusement.
"Phantom Double… a simple trick to leave danger behind."
Below, the guards stumbled into another stack of crates, adding further chaos to the already disordered street.
Wherever Lu Mao passed, disorder seemed to follow. A loose rope here, an overturned basket there—each small action led to another, until the entire marketplace was caught in a chain of confusion.
People shouted in frustration.
"My rice cakes!"
"My goods!"
"My candy!"
A child began to cry.
Yet amidst all this, the boy moved freely, untouched by consequence, as though he danced along the edge of the turmoil he created.
This was no rare occurrence.
Once every week, the marketplace would descend into such chaos.
And always, at its center, was the same elusive figure.
Shadow Rat.
Among the lesser circles of the city's underworld, that name had already begun to carry weight.
For Lu Mao was not merely a mischievous thief.
He understood martial arts.
And that made him dangerous.
—
When the sun rose higher and the streets gradually returned to order, Lu Mao made his way back to his refuge.
It was an abandoned tower at the edge of the district, tall and weathered by time. At its highest point, hidden from ordinary sight, he had built a small shelter from scrap wood and metal sheets. Though crude, it was enough for him.
Inside were a simple table, a chair, and a few small plants placed near the window.
From there, one could see the entire city.
Lu Mao slipped in through the window and dropped his belongings onto the table.
A soft "meow" greeted him.
He turned to see a black cat sitting calmly on the chair, its eyes fixed on him.
Lu Mao smiled faintly. "So, you're here… don't complain. I brought something for you as well."
He took out a strip of beef jerky and tossed it lightly. The cat caught it with ease, as though accustomed to such exchanges.
After eating, Lu Mao sat cross-legged on a mat and began his daily practice.
The Primordial Qi Circulation Method.
It was a basic technique, one his father had said every martial artist must first learn. Through steady breathing and focused intent, it strengthened the body and refined the flow of Qi.
Lu Mao followed the method carefully.
Yet as he sank deeper into his practice, a strange sensation stirred within him.
A faint pulse.
A distant image—a woman's silhouette—appeared briefly in his mind before fading away.
Then came a sudden surge of power, sharp and fleeting, as though something hidden deep within him had stirred.
It vanished just as quickly, leaving him uncertain.
Before he could reflect further, he sensed a presence behind him.
"You have caused quite a disturbance in the market again."
Lu Mao did not turn.
"I wondered when you would appear," he said calmly.
Behind him stood Jin Wu, silent as ever, his cloak shifting gently as though it carried a will of its own.
"I taught you to move unseen," Jin Wu said. "Not to draw the attention of an entire marketplace."
Lu Mao smiled slightly. "It was not intentional."
"Your cat shows more restraint than you."
"Cats do not steal rice cakes, Father. I do."
Jin Wu shook his head. "One day, your words will bring you trouble."
"Or perhaps they will make me known."
For a brief moment, silence passed between them.
Then Jin Wu turned, as though preparing to leave.
"I will be gone for some time," he said.
Lu Mao's expression changed slightly, though he remained seated.
"You have grown enough. It is time for you to enter the Golden Sparrow Guild Trials. Your path lies there."
Before Lu Mao could respond, Jin Wu had already vanished.
Only the open sky beyond the balcony remained.
—
Later, as the day leaned toward noon, Lu Mao sat on the small, uneven balcony outside his shelter.
The city stretched below him, vast and full of life.
The black cat rested beside him, purring softly as he absentmindedly stroked its fur.
"…Sometimes, I feel you understand me better than anyone else," he murmured.
The cat simply blinked.
Lu Mao looked out at the distant skyline, his gaze steady.
"The Golden Sparrow Guild…"
He had seen the insignia on his father's cloak many times.
That was where his father belonged.
And now—
It would be his path as well.
Lu Mao slowly raised his hand toward the sky and clenched it into a fist.
"Very well," he said quietly.
"Let us begin there."
His eyes gleamed faintly.
"And one day… even the heavens may not escape my grasp."