The crisp mountain air filled his lungs as he gazed upon the endless sky. Clouds drifted lazily below him, covering the valley like a soft sea of mist. The world was quiet here—no distractions, no expectations, just him and the vastness of nature. For the first time in years, he allowed himself a moment of peace.
He had spent four years training under Zhao Tian, pushing himself beyond mortal limits, yet there was still so much to learn. He clenched his fist, feeling the immense power coursing through him, yet he knew—he was not ready yet.
His mother was waiting for him. He could have returned to her now, shown her how strong he had become, but something held him back. "Not yet... I want to surprise her. I want to return as someone truly worthy of standing by her side." He smiled to himself, imagining the look on her face when she saw how far he had come.
But after days of contemplation, he shook his head and chuckled softly to himself. "I've waited long enough. She's the reason I trained in the first place. I should see her." With that thought, he made his way back down the mountains, his heart lighter than it had been in years.
The moment he stepped into their home, his mother turned, eyes widening in shock before filling with tears. "My son... you're back!"
Before he could react, she threw her arms around him, holding him as if afraid he would disappear. He hesitated for a moment before hugging her back, his heart aching at the warmth he had missed for so long.
"You look so different," she whispered, pulling away to examine him. "You've grown so strong."
He grinned, rubbing the back of his head. "I trained a little."
She laughed, wiping her tears. "A little? You feel like a completely different person!"
For the next week, he let himself indulge in something he hadn't experienced in years—a normal, happy life.
They cooked together, laughed over old memories, and spent long nights talking under the stars. He told her stories about the mountains and training, carefully avoiding the harsher details. In turn, she told him about the village, the people, and how she had always believed he would return stronger than ever.
One evening, as they sat by the fire, she reached out and held his hand. "No matter how strong you become, you'll always be my son first. Don't forget that, alright?"
His heart clenched, but he forced a smile. "I won't."
For now, he allowed himself to be her son, to be happy, to be at peace.
Because deep down, he knew—this peace would not last forever.