RaizellV

  The afternoon sun filtered softly through the open window, casting a golden hue over the wooden floor. The rhythmic sound of a needle pierg fabric filled the quiet space, apanied by the occasional rustling of paper as Feiyin turhe pages of his book. He sat cross-legged beside his mother, his eyes sing the text before him, but his focus occasionally drifted toward her hands.Mei Liao’s fingers moved deftly, threading fine silver and purple strands through bck fabric, her motions precise, graceful. Every stitch she made was iional, f intricate patterns that shimmered when the light caught them just right.“You’re making a new robe?” Feiyin finally asked, gng up from his book.Mei Liao hummed in respohe barest of smiles pying on her lips. “For you.”Feiyin blinked in surprise before his gaze dropped to the fabri her hands. Now that he looked at it closely, he reized the details—bck silk, embroidered with silver and purple. The colors suited him, matg the shade of his eyes, the dark threads mirr the deep hues of his hair.A warm feeling bloomed in his chest.“You don’t have to—”“I want to.” Mei Liao interrupted, her voice ge firm. “You’ve been training hard, and yrowing. Soon, you’ll need somethio wear that fits you properly.”Feiyin’s lips twitched, touched by the gesture, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned back to his book, though his eyes lingered ohodical movement of his mother’s hands.After a few moments, he spoke again. “How does it work? Sewing, I mean.”Mei Liao g him, amusement flickering in her eyes. “You’re ied in sewing now?”Feiyin shrugged. “I just think it’s iing how a few threads form something as strong as a robe.”His mother’s smile widened, her hands never pausing in their work. “It’s quite simple, really. A sihread on its own isn’t much—it break easily, tangle, or fray. But when you use a needle to thread it through fabric, stitch by stitch, you build something stronger.” She lifted her work slightly, showing him the patterns she had woven. “Threads that are ected closely hold more tightly, while those that stretch too far apart bee loose, fragile.”Feiyin watched the needle pierce the fabric, pulling the delicate thread behind it. His mind absorbed the motion, the rhythm, the teique.And then—a sudden realization struck him.His eyes widened slightly as his mind ected the dots.‘This… resembles osciltions.’He had always seen how different materials had their own unique vibrations—steel had closely knit osciltions, tightly bound, making it firm and unyielding. Oher hand, silk had looser osciltions, its frequencies more spread apart, allowing it to move fluidly, softly.The way the needle led the thread—firmness guiding softness—reminded him of Yang and Yin. Yang was solid, structured, decisive—the needle. Yin table, yielding, flowing—the thread.A spark ignited in his mind.‘If the needle represents Yang, and the thread represents Yin… then could I apply the same principle to irength?’The thought set his pulse rag.He set his book aside, exhaling slowly as he focused inward, calling upon his irength.Mei Liao, notig the shift in his demeanor, arched an eyebrow. “What are you doing, my little schor?”Feiyin didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the needle in his mother’s hand as he tried to replicate the cept within himself.He first gathered his irength into a single point, attempting to form a sharp and firm "needle"—a focused force that could lead the rest of his energy. But the momeried to push it forward, the energy scattered, dispersing like loose thread slipping from a fabric.He frowned.‘No, it’s too unrefined.’He tried again, visualizing it more clearly in his mind. The needle must be firm, the thread must follow smoothly. It wasn’t just about shaping energy; it was about guiding it with i.His brows furrowed in tration as he formed a more defined point of energy, letting the rest of his irength follow in a softer, trolled stream. He could feel it starting to take shape.But the momeried to move it forward, it colpsed again.Feiyi out a sharp exhale, frustration creeping in like a thorn lodged beh his skin. His fingers curled against his palm, the remnants of his irength dispersing into nothing. He had grasped the cept—it made sense in his mind—but wheried to apply it, the energy refused to flow as he envisioned.His mother’s steady rhythm of needlework had tinued without pause, the soft pull of thread whispering through the fabric. But now, she set the sewing down on her p, her eyes sharp yet kind as they settled on him.“You seem rather focused,” she remarked, tilting her head.Feiyin inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself before turning to her, his emotions a tangled mix of excitement and irritation. “I’m trying to shape my irength like the way you sew.”Mei Liao’s fingers hovered briefly over the fabric, her gaze curious. “Like sewing?”“Yes!” Feiyin sat up straighter, gesturing toward her hands. “The needle is firm—it leads the way. The thread is soft—it follows. But if the needle is too weak, the thread loses its path. If the thread is too stiff, it ’t be woven properly.” His hands ched as he struggled to expin the sensation bubbling inside him. “I was thinking about how Yin and Yang work together, and how I apply it to my irength. I’m trying to form a solid force that guide a softer one, like a needle guiding thread.” He let out a huff of frustration. “But I ’t get it to work properly.”For a brief moment, siletled betweehe only sound the occasional pop of burning wood from the nearby brazier.Then, uedly, Mei Liao chuckled.Feiyin’s brows sched in mild annoyance. “Why are you ughing?”She reached out aly ruffled his hair, her touch light, affeate. “Because you’re brilliant, that’s why.”Feiyin blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”“You just took something as mundane as sewing and used it to uand Yin and Yang, as well as irength application.” She smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. “Even I, at my cultivation level, hought to look at it that way.”Feiyin frowned slightly, her words sinking in. He had uood something new, something different.Mei Liao set her sewing aside entirely now, leaning forward slightly. “Let me see how you’re doing it.”Feiyin nodded, his pulse quiing as he focused inward once more.His breath steadied.He closed his eyes and recalled the image in his mind.The needle, sharp and unwavering, pierg through fabric with fidehe thread, following smoothly, weaving into a plete form.Firmness guiding softness. Strength guiding flexibility.He gathered his irength, f a solid point—a sharp, firm "needle." This time, he made sure it was stable, unyielding, no longer crumbling upon itself. Ohe structure held firm, he allowed the rest of his energy to follow—soft yet trolled—the thread.At first, the energy wavered, unstable, like silk strands slipping through unsteady fingers. Feiyin grit his teeth, adjusting, molding the flow as he went.‘The thread must follow the needle, not scatter aimlessly.’He focused on the rhythm of his mother’s sewing, the way the needle moved with i, never erratic, always with purpose. The image anchored him.Slowly… the flow steadied.He felt it—the baween guiding and yielding, firmness and flexibility. His entire being tingled with the sensation of trol, something deeper than just moving energy—he was shaping it.A sudden, bright grin broke across his face.“I did it!”His excmation startled Mei Liao, making her jolt slightly before she let out anh. “You certainly did.”Feiyin turo her, excitement practically radiating from him. “Mom, this method— you use it too? Since you have a more refined trol over irength, wouldn’t this help you guide it more precisely?”Mei Liao’s smile faltered, her expression shifting into something more ptive.She had perfected her irength trol over decades, using spiritual seo refine even the most delicate movements of her energy. Yet, as she turned Feiyin’s expnation over in her mind, she realized that this discovery could refine her trol even further.Astonishment flickered across her face.“…You’re right,” she murmured, staring at him in disbelief. “Even I use this.”Feiyin beamed, pride swelling in his chest.Mei Liao studied him for a moment before shaking her head, truly impressed. “Your father trains your body. I teach you about the world. But here you are, teag us both something new.” She flicked his forehead pyfully. “Aren’t you growing up too fast?”Feiyin rubbed his forehead, ughing softly. “Maybe just a little.”Mei Liao sighed dramatically, shaking her head as she picked up her sewing again. “At this rate, you’ll surpass us all before you even step into the realm.”Feiyin smirked. “That’s the pn.”She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the warmth in her expression. “Well then, my little genius, are you going to keep practig, or are you going to sit there grinning at me all evening?”Feiyin exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before settling his focus inward again. “Practig.”His mother chuckled, resuming her sewing, her fingers moving with the same steady, deliberate rhythm.As Feiyin tinued, he let the pulse of her movements guide him, syng his breathing with the soft pull of thread, the pierg of the needle.Outside, the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of gold and violet.And inside, a mother and her son sat together, sharing knowledge, ughter, and the joy of discovery.