The Gift of Qi
Winter stretched on like an endless sigh, the heavy snow muffling the world outside the small mountain hut. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of burning wood and the faint bitterness of medicine.
Xiao Hua's mother lay pale and still on a makeshift bed, her breaths shallow and labored. Her once bright eyes now flickered weakly, shadowed by sickness.
Xiao Hua sat by her side, fingers intertwined with hers, unwilling to let go even for a moment.
"Mother, please get well," he whispered, tears wetting the worn quilt beneath them. "I promise I'll grow strong… for you."
Days turned into weeks, and hope grew thin. One cold evening, a knock echoed through their humble refuge.
The boy's mother stirred, bewildered by the unexpected visitor. At the door stood an old man, bent with age, robes tattered but his eyes sharp and knowing.
"I heard the mountain wind carrying your sorrow," he said softly. "May I come in?"
With no strength left to refuse, she nodded.
The old man approached Xiao Hua, studying the boy's frail form.
"Your body is a prison," the old man said quietly. "Blocked meridians — a rare condition that stunts not only the flesh but the spirit."
Xiao Hua looked up, eyes filled with confusion and a spark of hope.
"Can you... fix it?" he asked.
The old man smiled faintly.
"I can give you the qi you need, but it will not be easy. Your body must accept it."
Over the next days, the old man taught Xiao Hua how to breathe with his dantian, to feel the flow within, and slowly, he began transferring thirty years' worth of qi — a flood of warm energy coursing through the boy's veins like a long-forgotten river waking from ice.
Pain gripped Xiao Hua's limbs; his body trembled as the qi untangled the knots within, breaking the chains that held his spirit down.
After the final pulse of energy entered his body, the old man stood.
"My time here ends," he said. "Use this gift well, Xiao Hua. Grow strong. For your mother, for yourself."
And just as quietly as he had come, he vanished into the snowy night.
Xiao Hua looked at his hands, feeling a strange strength blossoming inside. His body was still weak, but the weight on his heart lifted.
For the first time, he dreamed of a future where snow would melt, and flowers would bloom—not just outside, but within him.