Li Heng set down his chopsticks and took a sip of tea, his gaze calm yet knowing as he looked at Li Yuntai.

  “You’ve had something on your mind since you arrived home,” he said, his voice steady. “Now that your siblings have left for their rooms, speak freely.”

  Li Yuntai straightened slightly, gathering his thoughts before speaking. “Father, I saw a recruitment poster today in the town square. The magistrate, Zhao Feng, is recruiting guards earlier than expected. I found it strange since the usual recruitment happens every two years. Many people are already talking—some say it’s because of military movement in the north. Others believe the Zhao family is preparing for something.”

  Li Heng listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable.

  “I was thinking of joining,” Yuntai continued. “The job offers free meals from morning to evening and good pay. But… with how sudden this is, I wanted to hear your thoughts first.”

  Li Heng sighed, placing his teacup down. He tapped the wooden table lightly, deep in thought.

  “You’re right to be cautious,” he said after a pause. “If the recruitment has been pushed forward, it means something is happening behind the scenes. War may not have reached our doorstep, but unrest is stirring somewhere.”

  Yuntai nodded. “That’s what I fear. If I join now, I may end up on the frontlines instead of just guarding the province.”

  Li Xun, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. “Brother, do you really want to become a guard? You never seemed too eager about it before.”

  Yuntai exhaled. “It’s not about eagerness. It’s about opportunity. We need stability, and this could provide it. But if there’s something bigger at play, I don’t want to walk into it blindly.”

  Li Heng studied his son before speaking again. “If you choose this path, you must be prepared for its consequences. War is never fair, and the court’s decisions rarely favor common soldiers. But if you wish to go, I will not stop you. Just remember, in troubled times, loyalty is both a virtue and a risk.”

  Silence lingered between them for a moment before Li Yuntai nodded firmly. “I understand, Father. I’ll think on it more before making my final decision.”

  Li Heng’s gaze softened slightly. “Good. Whatever you decide, do not act rashly.”

  With that, the discussion ended, and the dim lantern light flickered in the quiet night.

  The night was as quiet as ever in the Li household. A faint chill hung in the air, the glow of the lantern outside flickering gently in the courtyard. Inside their shared room, Li Yuntai and Li Xun lay on their respective wooden beds, the faint scent of aged wood and parchment lingering in the air. Their room was modest but orderly—a low wooden table with a half-burnt candle sat between them, and on the shelves, a few neatly stacked books and inkstones reflected Li Xun’s scholarly pursuits.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  A soft breeze passed through the slightly open window, rustling the fabric of the light curtains. The brothers slept soundly, their breaths steady, undisturbed by the subtle changes occurring around them.

  Unbeknownst to them, a small glowing talisman, inscribed with golden runes that shimmered like divine scripture, drifted silently into the room. The ancient markings pulsed with an ethereal glow, almost as if they carried the weight of an unseen will.

  Without a sound, the talisman split into two, golden words swirling like drifting embers before seeping into the foreheads of both brothers. The inscriptions, like sacred calligraphy, dissolved seamlessly into their skin, merging with their souls.

  For an instant, an indescribable force surged through them, bypassing all natural defenses, yet causing no external disturbance. A golden rune, intricate and otherworldly, formed deep within their consciousness. Unseen to the naked eye, their bodies subtly shifted—within their very being, a new core took shape, a dantian forming where none had existed before. It was a silent transformation, occurring in mere seconds, unnoticed by the world outside.

  Within the depths of their minds, a golden light manifested, illuminating their thoughts. Both Li Yuntai and Li Xun, despite being in separate dreams, experienced the same phenomenon.

  A voice—or perhaps an intent—etched itself into their consciousness.

  "The path is now open. Receive the seed of the Heavenly Monument. Cultivate the Dao of Ascension."

  As the words faded, so too did the golden light, retreating into their souls.

  Their breathing remained steady, their bodies unchanged on the surface. But deep within, something had awakened.

  The morning light filtered through the wooden lattice window, casting soft golden streaks across the simple yet tidy room. The faint chirping of birds echoed in the courtyard, signaling the start of a new day.

  Li Yuntai stirred awake, blinking groggily as his body adjusted to consciousness. But something felt… different. His senses, though still familiar, seemed sharper—his awareness of the world around him clearer than ever before. It wasn’t just the morning chill or the warmth of the blankets that registered in his mind. No, it was something far more profound.

  Across from him, Li Xun shifted as well, his expression mirroring the same realization. The two brothers locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them before either could even form words. They weren’t alone in this feeling. They had both changed.

  Li Yuntai furrowed his brows, taking a slow breath, trying to articulate the sensation. He closed his eyes, but the moment he did, his mind felt… vast. It wasn’t just clarity—it was as if his thoughts had become unshackled, flowing smoother, faster. His mind was no longer just an abstract consciousness; it felt like something solid, something real.

  Then, before he could even react, knowledge surged into his mind.

  A flood of information, clear and structured, settled deep within his consciousness as though it had always been there.

  “The Heavenly Source Monument… Tao Seeds… Immortal Cultivation…”

  Each phrase sent a shiver down his spine. His heart pounded as he processed the revelation. This wasn’t just some ordinary knowledge—this was something beyond mortal understanding. It spoke of a method to receive a “Tao Seed,” an inheritance from the Heavenly Source Monument, and a cultivation manual… for becoming an immortal.

  Eyes wide, he snapped his gaze toward Li Xun, only to find his younger brother wearing the exact same look of shock and apprehension.

  For a moment, the room was silent, save for their slightly uneven breathing. Then, finally, Yuntai spoke.

  “Xun… did you—?”

  Li Xun nodded immediately, his expression tense. “I received it too. It… just appeared in my mind.”

  Yuntai’s fists clenched. “This… this isn’t normal. How did this happen? The Heavenly Source Monument… isn’t that the name of the thing sealed in the hidden compartment?”

  Li Xun’s brows furrowed. “If it’s truly something related to immortals, then… what kind of existence owns it? What if they come looking for it?”

  The thought sent a chill down both their spines. This was no simple inheritance—it was something beyond mortal reach. If an immortal or some higher power was behind it, then were they now marked by something far greater than they could handle?

  Yuntai exhaled deeply. “We need to tell Father. He’s the only one who might know what to do.”

  Li Xun hesitated, then nodded. “Yes… before we do anything reckless, we should hear what he has to say.”

  The two brothers exchanged a final glance, their expressions now carrying a mixture of excitement, fear, and caution. Neither of them knew what this revelation would mean for their future, but one thing was certain—life as they knew it had changed forever.