Chapter 2: First steps

The next morning's sun filtered through the gaps in the abandoned warehouse's roof, casting thin beams of light across the dusty floor where Uzun had spent the night. He had found this place three months ago. A forgotten storage building in the outer district that the owner had apparently given up on. The roof leaked when it rained, and the walls did little to keep out the winter cold, but it was better than sleeping in doorways or under bridges.

Uzun sat up slowly, his joints protesting after another night on the hard ground. His makeshift bedroll that was little more than a collection of old rags and a thin blanket he'd traded for two days' worth of work it provided minimal comfort, but it was his. In a world where he owned almost nothing, even these meager possessions felt precious.

The fake stone sat beside him where he'd placed it the night before, its gray surface looking even more worthless in the harsh morning light. But Uzun had spent hours thinking about his plan, and despite the risks, he was determined to try something—anything—that might change his circumstances.

He picked up the stone and examined it one more time, turning it over in his hands. The merchant had claimed it contained traces of genuine gemstone material, and while Uzun was certain the man had been lying about its overall value, there was still a chance that some real fragments were embedded within the worthless rock.

Taking a deep breath, Uzun placed the stone on the warehouse floor and picked up a heavy piece of metal debris he'd found weeks earlier. If there were genuine fragments inside, he would need to extract them carefully. The traditional method of cultivation required pure, high-quality gemstones, but perhaps—just perhaps—he could make something work with whatever scraps he could gather.

The first blow cracked the stone's surface, revealing the gray, chalky interior that confirmed his suspicions about its authenticity. But as he continued to break it apart, carefully examining each piece, Uzun's heart began to race. There, scattered throughout the worthless material, were tiny flecks of what looked like genuine minerals—some clear as glass, others with faint traces of color that caught the morning light.

They were minuscule, barely visible to the naked eye, but they were real. Uzun spent the better part of an hour carefully separating the genuine fragments from the worthless debris, using the tip of a rusty nail to pick out even the smallest specks. When he was finished, he had perhaps a dozen tiny pieces, none larger than a grain of sand, sitting in his palm.

It wasn't much and certainly not enough for traditional cultivation, but it was a start. And if his theory was correct, he might be able to gather more from other sources.

The iron mine on the eastern edge of Qingshan Town had been operating for over fifty years, carving deep tunnels into the mountainside in search of the ore that kept the town's economy running. Uzun had passed by the entrance countless times during his years in the outer district, watching the workers emerge each evening covered in dust and exhaustion, their faces marked by the dangerous nature of their trade.

He had never seriously considered seeking work there before mine work was notoriously dangerous, and the foremen were known to be particular about who they hired. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and if he was going to gather enough mineral fragments to attempt his unconventional cultivation method, the mine might be his best opportunity.

The walk to the mine took him through several districts of the town, each one a reminder of the social hierarchy that governed life in Qingshan. The outer district, where he lived, was home to the poorest residents including day laborers, beggars, and those like himself who existed on the margins of society. The middle districts housed the craftsmen and merchants, their shops and workshops bustling with activity even in the early morning hours. And beyond that lay the inner district, where the clan families and wealthy merchants lived in compounds that Uzun had only glimpsed from a distance.

The mine entrance was a gaping wound in the mountainside, surrounded by wooden structures that housed equipment and processing facilities. Even from a distance, Uzun could hear the sounds of industry, the rhythmic pounding of hammers, the creak of pulleys, and the distant echoes of voices calling out from deep within the tunnels.

A group of workers was gathered near the entrance, apparently waiting for the day's assignments. Uzun approached cautiously, his light blue hair and green eyes immediately marking him as different from the predominantly dark-haired local population. He had learned over the years to expect stares and whispered comments, but it never became easier to endure.

The mine foreman was a burly man named Chen Wei, whose arms were thick as tree trunks and whose face bore the weathered look of someone who had spent decades working in dangerous conditions. He was addressing the gathered workers when Uzun approached, but he paused mid-sentence when he noticed the newcomer.

"What do you want, boy?" Chen Wei's voice was gruff but not immediately hostile.

"I'm looking for work, sir," Uzun replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm willing to do whatever needs doing."

Chen Wei looked him up and down, taking in his thin frame and obvious youth. "Mine work isn't for everyone, especially not scrawny kids who look like they'd blow away in a strong wind." He paused, his eyes focusing on Uzun's distinctive features. "Tuza, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

A few of the workers chuckled, and Uzun heard one of them mutter something about "foreign blood" under his breath. Chen Wei held up a hand for silence, but there was a calculating look in his eyes.

"Well, we do need more fodder," the foreman said finally, his tone matter-of-fact. "And skinny Tuza runts like you are good for squeezing into the tight spaces where the bigger men can't fit. The pay is two copper coins a day, and you work until the shift bell rings. Miss a day without good reason, and you're out. Understood?"

The casual cruelty of the comment stung, but Uzun had endured worse. "Understood, sir."

"Good. Report to Supervisor Liu in the morning. He'll show you what needs doing." Chen Wei turned back to the other workers, dismissing Uzun with a wave of his hand. "Now, as I was saying..."

The next morning, Uzun reported to the mine before dawn, joining a line of workers waiting for their assignments. Supervisor Liu turned out to be a thin, nervous man who seemed perpetually worried about cave-ins, gas pockets, and the dozen other dangers that lurked in the tunnels below.

"You're the new Tuza boy?" Liu asked, consulting a piece of paper covered in scrawled notes. "Chen Wei says you're small enough for the narrow passages. Good—we've got some survey work that needs doing in Tunnel Seven. Follow me."

The descent into the mine was like entering another world. The morning sunlight faded quickly as they moved deeper into the mountain, replaced by the flickering glow of oil lamps mounted on the tunnel walls. The air grew cooler and heavier, carrying the scents of earth, metal, and something else a dampness that spoke of water seeping through rock somewhere in the darkness ahead.

Tunnel Seven was one of the newer excavations, a narrow passage that had been carved following a promising vein of iron ore. Uzun's job was simple in concept but exhausting in practice: crawl through the tightest sections of the tunnel, checking for structural weaknesses and marking areas where the larger workers could safely expand the passage.

It was dangerous work. The tunnel walls were rough and unfinished, with sharp edges that caught at his clothes and scraped his skin. The ceiling was low enough that he had to crawl on his hands and knees for long stretches, and more than once he heard the ominous creaking of stressed timber supports overhead.

But it was also exactly what he had hoped for.

The discarded rock from the mining operations was piled in heaps near the tunnel entrances, sorted roughly by type but largely ignored once it had been determined to contain insufficient ore for processing. To the miners, these piles were worthless debris. To Uzun, they were treasure troves of potential cultivation materials.

During his breaks, and in the few minutes before and after each shift, Uzun would carefully examine the discarded stones, looking for the telltale glint of mineral deposits. Most of what he found was worthless, but occasionally he would spot a tiny fleck of quartz, a fragment of what might be garnet, or other minerals that caught the light in promising ways.

The work was backbreaking, but it was also transformative. For the first time in years, Uzun had steady income, meager though it was—and access to the kind of physical labor that built strength and endurance. The mine provided a midday meal for its workers, usually a thin soup with vegetables and occasionally small pieces of meat. It wasn't much, but combined with his wages, it meant that Uzun was eating more regularly than he had since his parents' death.

The changes were gradual but noticeable. His thin frame began to fill out slightly as his muscles adapted to the demands of crawling through tight spaces and hauling equipment. His hands, already calloused from years of manual labor, developed new calluses specific to mine work. Most importantly, his stamina improved dramatically—where once he would have been exhausted after a few hours of physical work, he now found himself able to maintain his pace throughout the entire shift.

The other workers began to notice the changes as well. Where once they had dismissed him as just another scrawny Tuza kid, they now acknowledged his presence with grudging nods. He was still an outsider, still subject to the casual prejudice that marked all interactions between the Tuza and the local population, but he had earned a measure of respect through his willingness to take on the most dangerous assignments without complaint.

"The runt's tougher than he looks," Uzun overheard one of the older miners saying during a break. "Went into that collapse zone in Tunnel Five yesterday without even flinching. Most of the new boys would have refused."

It was faint praise, but it was more recognition than Uzun had received in years.

Meanwhile, his collection of mineral fragments continued to grow. Each day brought new discoveries—a chip of what looked like amethyst from a discarded chunk of quartz, a tiny fleck of something that gleamed like gold in the lamplight, fragments of various stones that he couldn't identify but that seemed to contain genuine mineral content.

He stored his growing collection in a small leather pouch that he kept hidden in his clothes, adding to it whenever he found something promising. After three weeks of work, he had accumulated perhaps fifty tiny fragments, ranging in size from barely visible specks to pieces as large as a fingernail.

It still wasn't much by traditional standards, but it was far more than he had ever possessed before. And more importantly, it represented hope—the possibility that his unconventional approach to cultivation might actually work.

After a month of steady work and careful collection, Uzun finally felt that he had gathered enough fragments to attempt his experimental cultivation method. His leather pouch now contained nearly a hundred tiny pieces of various minerals, creating a small but respectable pile when he spread them out on the warehouse floor.

The next challenge was figuring out how to combine them into something that might function as a cultivation catalyst. Traditional gemstone cores were single, pure stones that had been carefully shaped and polished. Uzun's collection was a chaotic mixture of different materials, none of them large enough or pure enough to serve the traditional purpose.

But he had an idea.

During his childhood years on the streets, Uzun had learned about the various plants and trees that grew around Qingshan Town. One of them, a gnarled species that grew in the rocky soil near the mine, produced a thick, sticky sap that hardened when exposed to air. The local children sometimes used it as a crude glue for their makeshift toys.

If he could mix his mineral fragments with this sap and shape the mixture into a rough sphere, it might serve as an unconventional cultivation core. It wouldn't be pure or elegant like the gemstones used by clan cultivators, but it might be enough to channel and focus his inner energy.

The process of gathering the sap took most of an evening. Uzun had to climb several of the trees near the mine, carefully scraping the sticky substance from their bark and collecting it in a small container he had fashioned from a discarded piece of metal. The sap was thick and amber-colored, with a faint sweet scent that reminded him of honey.

Back in his warehouse shelter, Uzun spread his mineral fragments on a clean piece of cloth and began the delicate process of mixing them with the tree sap. He worked by lamplight, carefully adding small amounts of sap to the fragments and kneading the mixture with his fingers until it began to hold together.

The result was far from beautiful a rough, lumpy sphere about the size of a large marble, with fragments of various minerals visible throughout its amber matrix. But as Uzun held it up to the lamplight, he could see tiny sparkles and glints from the embedded minerals, and for a moment, he allowed himself to hope that his desperate plan might actually work.

The cultivation attempt itself began simply enough. Uzun sat cross-legged on his makeshift bedroll, holding the improvised core in both hands, and tried to follow the breathing techniques he had observed and overheard. He closed his eyes and attempted to focus his inner energy, whatever that might be, through the strange object in his hands.

For the first few minutes, nothing happened. Uzun sat in the dim lamplight, breathing slowly and trying to sense any kind of energy flow or response from the improvised core. He had no real idea what he was supposed to feel. The fragments of cultivation knowledge he had gathered over the years were frustratingly vague about the actual sensations involved.

Then, just as he was beginning to think that his experiment was a complete failure, something changed.

It started as a faint warmth in his hands, so subtle that he almost dismissed it as imagination. But the warmth grew stronger, spreading from the improvised core up through his arms and into his chest. For a brief, exhilarating moment, Uzun felt something that might have been energy flowing through his body a tingling sensation that seemed to follow pathways he had never been aware of before.

He had just enough time to think that his plan was actually working before everything went catastrophically wrong.

The gentle warmth suddenly exploded into searing pain, as if liquid fire had been injected directly into his veins. The improvised core in his hands grew burning hot, and the energy that had felt so promising moments before turned into a chaotic torrent that tore through his body without control or direction.

Uzun tried to cry out, but his voice caught in his throat as wave after wave of agony crashed over him. It felt as though his entire body was being torn apart from the inside, every nerve ending screaming in protest as the uncontrolled energy rampaged through his system. The different mineral fragments in his improvised core were apparently incompatible with each other, creating a violent resonance that his untrained body couldn't handle.

The last thing he remembered was the taste of blood in his mouth and the sensation of falling backward onto the warehouse floor. Then darkness claimed him, and the pain mercifully faded into unconsciousness.

When Uzun finally awoke, the sun was already high in the sky, and his entire body felt as though he had been trampled by a herd of horses. Every muscle ached, his head pounded with a fierce headache, and his mouth was dry as dust. For a moment, he lay still on the warehouse floor, afraid to move and discover what damage his failed experiment had caused.

But as he gradually became more aware of his surroundings, Uzun realized something remarkable: despite the lingering pain and exhaustion, he could sense something new within himself. It was faint, barely perceptible, but there was definitely a small reservoir of energy somewhere in the region of his chest a warm, steady presence that hadn't been there before his cultivation attempt.

It wasn't much and certainly nothing compared to what he imagined a true cultivator would possess, but it was real. His desperate, dangerous experiment hadn't been a complete failure after all. Somehow, despite the chaotic and painful process, a tiny amount of cultivation energy had taken root in his soul.

Uzun spent the rest of that day recovering, drinking water and eating what little food he had stored in his shelter. The improvised core had cracked during the cultivation attempt, several of the mineral fragments falling out of the hardened sap matrix, but the remaining pieces still held together in a rough, damaged sphere. He wrapped it carefully in cloth and stored it away he would need time to understand what had happened before attempting anything like that again.

When he returned to work the following morning, the changes were immediately apparent. The small reservoir of energy in his chest seemed to enhance everything he did and his movements were more fluid, his strength noticeably increased, and his endurance far beyond what it had been just days before. Tasks that had previously left him exhausted now felt manageable, and he found himself volunteering for assignments that would have been beyond his capabilities before the cultivation attempt.

"What's gotten into the Tuza brat?" he heard one of the miners asking during the midday break. "Yesterday he hauled three loads of ore from Tunnel Eight without even breathing hard. Usually takes two men to manage that much weight."

"Maybe he's finally growing into his frame," another worker replied. "About time—kid's been scrawny as a scarecrow since he started here."

"More lively, too," added a third voice. "Used to barely speak unless spoken to. Now he's actually volunteering for the dangerous assignments."

Uzun tried not to smile as he listened to their conversation. If only they knew the truth—that their "Tuza brat" had successfully taken the first step on the path of cultivation, using a method that no one had ever attempted before. It was a small step, certainly, but it was progress.

The increased energy and strength made his work more bearable, but it also made him hungry for more. The tiny reservoir of cultivation energy was intoxicating, a taste of the power that true cultivators wielded, and proof that his unconventional approach might actually lead somewhere. He began planning his next attempt, thinking about how he might refine his technique and avoid the chaotic energy surge that had nearly killed him.

Those plans were interrupted three weeks later when Foreman Chen Wei gathered all the workers for an unusual announcement.

"Listen up, all of you," Chen Wei called out, his voice carrying easily across the gathered crowd of miners. "We've got a new opportunity, but it's not for the faint of heart."

The workers fell silent, their attention focused on the foreman. New opportunities in the mining business usually meant either better pay or greater danger—and sometimes both.

"The excavation crews broke through into a new section of the cave system last week," Chen Wei continued. "It's a natural cavern network that extends deeper into the mountain than anything we've mapped before. The initial surveys suggest there might be significant mineral deposits down there and there is possibly even some of the rarer stones that fetch good prices in the larger cities."

A murmur of interest ran through the crowd. Rare minerals meant better pay for everyone involved, but Uzun could see the wariness in the workers' faces. Natural cave systems were notoriously dangerous, filled with unstable rock formations, poisonous gases, and sometimes worse things.

"The problem," Chen Wei went on, "is that we don't know what's down there. The caves are unexplored, unmapped, and potentially dangerous. We need a survey team to go in and mark out the safe paths, test the air quality, and do the basic groundwork before we can send in the full excavation crews."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "I'm not going to lie to you—this is dangerous work. Natural caves can collapse without warning, and there's always the possibility of encountering beasts that have made their homes in the deeper tunnels. That's why no one will be forced to volunteer. But for those who are willing to take the risk, the pay is double the normal rate."

Double pay. Uzun's heart began to race as he considered the implications. With that kind of money, he could afford better food, better equipment for his cultivation experiments, and perhaps even some genuine mineral samples from the town's merchants.

More importantly, a natural cave system would likely contain mineral deposits that had never been touched by human hands. If he could gain access to such a place, the opportunities for gathering cultivation materials would be unprecedented.

"The survey team will consist of six workers, plus three guards to provide protection against any beasts we might encounter," Chen Wei announced. "We'll be going in tomorrow morning, equipped with ropes, lamps, and surveying tools. The job should take three days, assuming we don't run into any major obstacles."

Several hands went up immediately several experienced miners who were willing to risk the danger for the increased pay. Uzun hesitated for only a moment before raising his own hand, his decision made.

Chen Wei's eyes found him in the crowd, and the foreman's expression showed a mixture of surprise and calculation. "You sure about this, Tuza boy? Cave exploration isn't like tunnel work. If something goes wrong down there, there might not be anyone around to pull you out."

"I'm sure, sir," Uzun replied, his voice steady despite the nervous energy coursing through him. "I'm not afraid of tight spaces or dangerous work."

"No, you're not," Chen Wei agreed, a note of grudging respect in his voice. "All right, you're in. Report here at dawn tomorrow with your gear. We'll be carrying surveying equipment, rope, extra lamps, and emergency supplies, so pack light on personal items."

As the crowd began to disperse, Uzun felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Tomorrow, he would be venturing into unexplored caves, facing unknown dangers in pursuit of the mineral fragments that might advance his cultivation. It was exactly the kind of opportunity he had been hoping for, but it was also potentially the most dangerous thing he had ever attempted.

The small reservoir of cultivation energy in his chest pulsed gently, as if responding to his emotions. Whatever lay ahead in those dark caves, he would face it with more strength and capability than he had ever possessed before. His unconventional path to cultivation had taken its first tentative step, and tomorrow would test whether that step had been enough to prepare him for the challenges ahead.

The sun was setting over Qingshan Town as Uzun made his way back to his warehouse shelter, his mind already focused on the expedition to come. In the distance, the mountain loomed against the darkening sky, its peaks hiding the cave system that would either advance his cultivation journey or end it entirely.

Either way, there was no turning back now.