Soulprints?

  The brothers both pondered on the new word that they had heard for the first time.

  The brothers took a seat with the squad, ready to figure out what had happened to them.

  The general started his lesson.

  “Do you remember what I told you when you asked me what that strike was at the end of our spar?”

  “Yes, I remember you saying it was Qi. But I don’t really remember what it was about?” Yang replied.

  “That’s okay. I intentionally only explained it briefly then, but now you’ll need to listen closely. Understanding what Qi is will be crucial for you now.”

  Wang Xuance chimed in, “May I?”—wanting to explain the concept himself.

  “Of course, you understand it much more than me.”

  Wang Xuance’s expression turned serious, his words sounding like a teacher.

  “Qi is the vital energy that flows through all living things. It's the very essence that sustains life, influences physical health, emotional well-being, and spiritual development. Do you understand?”

  “Sort of… but how do you know this? This Qi—is it something you can see, or touch?” Yang asked.

  “Good question, Yang. Qi is not something you can understand with your physical human senses. You can’t see, touch, hear, taste, or smell Qi.”

  “So how?”

  “The only way to sense Qi—is to feel it. Not in a physical way but in a spiritual way.”

  Yang closed his eyes, remembering the feeling he had when he touched the paws of the tiger.

  “Okay… I think I know what you mean.”

  Wang Xuance smiled.

  “Good. Very good. Truly feeling Qi at its core is a rare feat not many in this world ever get to experience. But congratulations, you two have done it.”

  Yin finally spoke.

  “If it’s so rare, then how did we achieve it? Does feeling Qi require special talent? Is it something only a few chosen can do?”

  Wang Xuance continued his explanation.

  “It has nothing to do with talent or being chosen. Listen closely. Qi at a basic level, flows through the body like water with no form. Qi is rarely a noticeable thing because one’s inner Qi normally has no identity. What you two achieved was—awakening that identity.”

  An Lushan added, “That identity is what we masters of Qi have named Soulprints.”

  Lu Yin nodded.

  “Soulprints. I get the gist… but could you explain further?”

  “Of course,” Wang Xuance replied.

  “To explain what a Soulprint is, I’ll start with something you already know.”

  He lifted his finger.

  “Masters got the idea of this name because of fingerprints. A fingerprint is the unique pattern everyone has which can be used to identify someone. The Soulprint is the same concept.”

  “A Soulprint is the unique form and pattern someone’s soul takes when they have awakened their Qi. Everyone’s Soulprint is uniquely different, causing everyone to have different abilities when they learn to use or wield Qi.”

  “And you’re saying we both awakened our Soulprints? What changed? We were just normal a couple of hours ago,” Yin asked.

  Wang Xuance grinned.

  “Everything changed, Yin. To awaken one’s Soulprint, your body and soul have to be in perfect alignment. A person awakens when they realize their inner truth—who they are at their core. Awakening is when you find a perfect balance of emotion, purpose, and action.”

  An Lushan commented,

  “I’m guessing something happened to the two of you while we were separated. Think back on that moment again—that feeling of everything coming together for you. That’s how one awakens.”

  “Exactly,” Wang Xuance followed.

  “Soulprint awakenings almost always happen during intense spiritual and emotional moments.”

  The brothers reflected, beginning to understand.

  Yang cut in,

  “Mister Xuance, earlier you said ‘wield Qi’. Does that mean we have abilities now?”

  Wang Xuance chuckled.

  “Sorry Yang, I wish it were that simple. But let me explain further. Awakening doesn’t inherently make you physically stronger or give you immediate new abilities. Again, while everyone will have different effects, generally awakening does one very important thing.”

  Wang Xuance continued, his tone patient but firm.

  “Awakening deepens your attunement—your sensitivity to the flow of Qi both within yourself and around you. It’s as if a fog has lifted, and suddenly, everything becomes clearer. Your reflexes, your instincts, your perception—they all sharpen. You feel the battlefield differently. You feel yourself differently.”

  “Aw man… no cool powers,” Lu Yang complained.

  Wang Xuance grinned.

  “Not yet, Yang. Not yet. I never said there are no abilities—only not for the time being. Consider yourselves in Stage 1. You’ll learn eventually the true capabilities of Qi.”

  “Think of it this way,” he continued.

  “Before awakening, your Qi is like a river with no banks. Wild. Unshaped. After awakening, your Soulprint becomes the riverbed—it gives form to that energy. And through that form, you begin to shape techniques, movements, and eventually—abilities. Not from copying others, but from your soul.”

  “Abilities born from who you are,” Lu Yin murmured.

  Wang Xuance nodded.

  “That’s why no two Soulprints are the same. Some awaken in silence. Others, in fury. Some awaken for defense. Others… for destruction.”

  He glanced between them, eyes steady.

  “Each Soulprint reveals something essential. About your spirit. Your truth.”

  Lu Yang grabbed his head.

  “Man, this is a lot. And you said this is only Stage 1? I hope there aren’t too many more.”

  The general laughed.

  “Don’t worry, Yang. Many masters have laid it out into just three stages—Awakening, Manifestation, and Transcendence. But going from one stage to the next is… let’s just say challenging.”

  “But don’t worry about that for now. Be proud—and focus on the path you’ve just stepped onto. Hone your instincts. Shape your style. Your Soulprints have opened the door… now it’s up to you to walk through it.”

  “I just realized something. General, did you focus our training on forming our own style for this very purpose?” Yin asked.

  “Ah, you figured me out. Giving you the deep question of coming up with a personal style is usually a good way to connect to yourself spiritually. But whether you awakened or not, it would’ve been the best way for you two to grow. I can tell that you brothers have been fighting your whole lives. There’s not much I can show you physically that will cause drastic growth. Soulprints… is what will take you to the next level.”

  Although this conversation wasn’t for Wang Hua, she had been listening intently and had a question herself.

  “Father, can you teach me how to awaken mine? It’s not just for soldiers, right?”

  “That’s correct. Anyone can awaken. And many of the very first to do it were performers and artists who were already deeply connected to themselves. But Wang Hua—awakening is not something I can teach. For one to awaken… you’ll have to find it on your own.”

  The general finally stood after the long explanation.

  “Enough talking. The best way to understand is to feel it in action. Change of plans—this strategy meeting can wait. It’s time for a showcase.”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  Lu Yang stood eagerly.

  “Finally, some action. What kind of showcase are we talking about, General?”

  “Qigong.”

  Yang blinked.

  “Huh? What in the world is that?”

  “Qigong is an ancient practice,” An Lushan explained. “A meditative exercise used by many to feel and harness Qi. Now that your Soulprints have awakened, I want you both to experience what it’s like to move with your energy—consciously.”

  Wang Xuance nodded in agreement.

  “An Lushan, you may have finally found something you’re better at than fighting. This was exactly what I had in mind for them.”

  Then, from the side of the room, Yin Zhongkan stood slowly, the name striking something in him.

  “I’m surprised you youngsters even know of such a thing,” he said, his voice deep with memory. He looked up, eyes distant. “My teacher once forced me through these exercises. I hated them at first… but now I see their worth.”

  He stepped forward, posture steady and commanding.

  “Lushan, Xuance—let me be the one to demonstrate.”

  Wang Xuance smiled.

  “Who better to demonstrate than you? Please go ahead.”

  The room grew still, silent. Even the flickering torchlight seemed to quiet itself as Yin Zhongkan stepped into the center. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His presence spoke for him now.

  Zhongkan first closed his eyes and took a long, slow inhale, taking in everything about the atmosphere. The scent of the room, the sound of everyone’s quiet breathing, the feeling of his body. He entered a state of true mindfulness—and began to move.

  He raised his arms slowly—so slow it felt like time was stretching to follow him. Each motion rolled from the spine outward, as if drawn not by muscle, but by the breath of the earth itself.

  Every motion had purpose.

  No gesture wasted.

  No strength forced.

  His arms flowed like mist along a riverbank—shifting without resistance, returning without force.

  To the unawakened eye, he was simply moving slowly. But to those with Soulprints, it was much different. It was… like watching a mountain breathe.

  For the brothers who had just recently changed, the feeling was unimaginable.

  Yin watched in silence. But more than that—he felt.

  He could feel the Qi stir in the air, surrounding Yin Zhongkan, responding to his movements. He naturally closed his eyes, but he could still tell everything the lieutenant was doing.

  He sensed it. Blind in sight, but he could “see” every movement.

  Yang found himself shivering as he watched, not understanding why. As Zhongkan continued, he actually began to affect the room. While Zhongkan was barely moving physically, the Qi around him moved rapidly—causing stirring dust at his feet.

  Zhongkan hadn’t done this in so long.

  The nostalgic feeling was like slipping into the robes of his youth—heavy with memory, but familiar in the seams. His body remembered even when his mind tried to forget.

  Control. Restraint. Clarity.

  That was the way his master had taught him. And it was the way he had lived.

  He reflected on his own Soulprint—the path that had been revealed to him when he first awakened.

  Silent Edge.

  The name had come to him not in a roar or revelation, but in a moment of absolute quiet.

  He did not seek power or chase glory.

  His path was something else entirely.

  Stillness with intent.

  Movement with purpose.

  The blade drawn only when the strike was certain.

  A Soulprint not forged for war—but for survival.

  Not because it was easier.

  Because it was harder.

  With a final exhale, he lowered his arms and returned to stillness.

  The silence that followed didn’t feel empty—it felt full. Like the room was holding its breath.

  Finally, Yang broke the silence.

  “Uhh… General, we’re supposed to do that?”

  The general laughed.

  “Of course, it won’t be as intense as Zhongkan’s, but yes—I want you both to try.”

  “But General,” Yang said, “we don’t know any of those movements.”

  “You don’t need to,” An Lushan replied, stepping closer. “Formal techniques aren’t the point. Let’s try something simpler.”

  He turned to both of them, voice steady now.

  “You’ll do it together. No weapons. Just pretend you’re fighting—but slowly. Let your bodies move how they want. Don’t think. Don’t force it. Your Soulprints are already shaping your instincts… you just have to trust them.”

  Yin Zhongkan returned to his seat, leaving the brothers with a final thought.

  “Feel it. Qi does not rush—it listens. If you wish to master it… first, you must listen back.”

  Lu Yin and Lu Yang bowed in respect, then turned to face one another.

  In perfect sync, they raised one arm each, bringing the backs of their hands together—palm to the air, knuckles meeting softly between them.

  A silent greeting.

  A shared breath.

  Not a challenge… but an understanding.

  The general signaled to start with one word:

  “Begin.”

  Understanding his brother might not grasp the slow pace, Lu Yin led—making the first move.

  Yin listened to the general’s words and didn’t focus on his movements at all. He put all his focus on the Qi he now felt within, letting it direct his path.

  With slow movements, Yin started his attack. Replicating the new stance Kan, his body moved like water—each step flowing together smoothly.

  What is this pressure?

  He’s moving as slow as a snail and yet it feels like I’m really in battle. I’ve never seen Yin move like this and I’m just being forced to match his pace.

  Yang was still confused about the exercise, so he could only respond to his brother’s actions.

  “Wait… those movements look like—” Wang Hua was surprised while observing. In Yin’s movements, she saw glimpses of her own dance.

  “Could he be the one from earlier?”

  Wang Xuance whispered to An Lushan, “Amazing. Yin already understands what feeling Qi means. Yang, however…”

  The general finished his sentence,

  “…is doing something I didn’t expect. He’s thinking too much.”

  Yin noticed that he could now feel the emotional energy in Yang. A bit of confusion, frustration, and agitation showed in his Qi.

  Come on, Yang. You’ve got it. Feel it and trust yourself like you always have.

  Yin wanted badly for his brother to also understand. And then—Yin’s Qi responded to these feelings and thoughts.

  Yin’s movements shifted a little unconsciously, now moving in a way that guided Yang and allowed him to have more freedom in his own movements.

  Yang felt the pressure of Yin’s movements ease, and he calmed himself.

  He remembered the words of Yin Zhongkan:

  “Feel it.”

  He thought no more about the exercise or Soulprints or the spar.

  He thought of the tiger he freed, and the feelings he had as he chased the beast running for its freedom.

  And the exchange took a different turn.

  Yin felt a wave of different emotions from his brother now.

  Freedom. Joy. Hope.

  And with that—Yang’s movements changed too.

  Losing himself unintentionally, Yang forgot the intention of moving slowly—and began to come at Yin like a real fight.

  His movements were unpredictable, holding no logic. He attacked, his strikes gaining sudden bursts of speed and force.

  Yin smiled brightly, not angered by Yang’s sudden outburst. He let his Qi flow—his body evading Yang’s never-before-seen attacks.

  Li Yi stood up, concerned.

  “Shouldn’t you guys stop them? He’s going to get hurt at this point.”

  “No.”

  The general and Wang Xuance said it in unison—both too mesmerized to look away.

  An Lushan eased Li Yi’s worries.

  “Don’t worry, Li Yi. We’ll step in if it gets dangerous. But don’t you see? This is beyond expectations.”

  Li Yi sighed.

  “Fine. But you better not let them get injured.”

  Yang entered a stance—his hands forming like claws and his body coiling. The aura of a faint tiger flickered behind him briefly to those with awakened eyes.

  Yang rushed in, closing the distance, trying to throw off the balance of Yin’s feet with his wide, explosive movements. Yin never stopped flowing—his aura like water, redirecting each of Yang’s strikes with precision.

  Intensity built.

  Both brothers zoned out, focusing only on each other.

  In their minds, it was just the two of them.

  Like it had always been.

  Just another spar, as they’d done thousands of times before.

  A comfortable peace and joy showed on their faces—even as the fight reached its peak.

  Their bodies both began to give off a faint glow.

  Yang found an opportunity and prepared to unleash his final strike—his hands reaching for the nape of Yin’s neck, like a tiger instinctively would.

  Yin could feel Yang’s intention and prepared a lethal counterstrike in return.

  Just as the two were about to clash—

  The general grabbed both of their arms with force—stopping them just in time.

  Lu Yin and Lu Yang stood frozen, each still holding their final posture.

  The general’s grip was firm but not harsh—grounding them like an anchor pulling them back to the present.

  Both brothers were panting lightly—not from exhaustion, but from the intensity of something deeper.

  A resonance still hummed through their limbs.

  Their Qi hadn’t faded.

  It had simply… settled.

  An Lushan slowly released them and stepped back, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

  “You two are no longer children.”

  His voice carried weight.

  Not pride.

  Not praise.

  Just truth.

  Wang Xuance stepped forward next, hands clasped behind his back.

  “That was not just a spar. That was harmony. Two forces testing each other… balancing each other.”

  Wang Hua watched in silence, a strange expression crossing her face.

  A mix of awe, understanding—and something else.

  Curiosity, maybe.

  Or recognition.

  Li Yi finally exhaled, her earlier tension easing.

  “Well, you didn’t die. That’s always a plus.”

  Shi Siming gave a low whistle.

  “I don’t know what that was, but it sure didn’t feel like Stage One.”

  Even Yin Zhongkan allowed a small nod.

  “Crude… but real. That was instinct at work. Spirit guiding form. You’ve both taken a step forward—one most never reach.”

  The room remained silent for a few breaths longer, as if not wanting to disturb the feeling lingering in the air.

  Then, Lu Yang looked at his brother. For once, he didn’t joke or boast.

  He just said, softly—

  “…That was fun.”

  Lu Yin smiled, brushing sweat from his temple.

  “Yeah. It was.”

  Xuance’s voice broke the quiet.

  “That will be enough for today. You’ve all witnessed something rare. Let it sink in.”

  An Lushan nodded.

  “The meeting resumes tomorrow. For now—rest.”

  The group began to disperse. But as the brothers turned to leave, the general placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

  “One last thing,” he said, his voice low.

  “Your Soulprints… they’re not just power. They’re mirrors. Learn what they’re showing you.”

  Lu Yin and Lu Yang exchanged a glance.

  Something unspoken passed between them—an understanding stronger than words.

  They bowed, then quietly left the hall, the soft echo of their steps fading into the corridors behind them.

  Yin and Yang: The Path of Two Blades! This chapter is the first introduction of the power system I decided on for the story.