The blazing sun had only just begun to climb above the horizon when the Li family's luxurious carriage pulled into the stone-paved courtyard of the Azure Sky Academy for Nobles. A place renowned not for martial arts or cultivation, but for education in nobility, etiquette, art, strategy, and statecraft—a requirement for all children of status in Azure Sky City.
Li Qingyun sat inside the carriage, legs crossed in quiet thought, dressed in light cyan robes embroidered with gold-threaded clouds, a symbol of his noble lineage. His mother, Lin Meiyu, had personally chosen the outfit, her eyes tearing up at how quickly her son was growing. His father, Li Tianyang, had placed a small, protective talisman inside his sleeve—just in case.
As the carriage came to a stop, the attendant opened the door. Qingyun stepped down with grace that didn't suit a typical four-year-old, drawing a few curious glances from other families arriving at the academy.
The academy grounds were vast and elegant. Marble walkways snaked through small gardens, and tall buildings stood like monuments to aristocratic pride. Dozens of noble children were gathered, accompanied by their retinues, wearing robes of varying designs—each marked with clan crests or family insignia.
Qingyun calmly walked toward the assembly grounds, noticing how eyes occasionally flicked toward him.
"Is that the Li clan's only child?"
"I heard he's spoiled rotten by his parents."
"He doesn't even have his meridians awakened yet. What's he doing here?"
Qingyun ignored the murmurs, keeping his expression neutral.
---
Orientation began shortly after.
The head instructor, a thin man with a long beard and narrow eyes named Instructor Zhao, stood at the front platform and gave the usual welcome speech. Rules, expectations, respect, discipline—things Qingyun already understood.
Then, students were grouped and taken to their assigned classrooms. Qingyun's class had around fifteen children, all between the ages of four and seven.
He scanned the faces around him—some aloof, some curious, a few hostile. That last kind always existed, he thought. Especially among nobles.
And sure enough, one of them approached before class began.
He was slightly older, maybe six, dressed in black and red robes with phoenix patterns. Two other boys flanked him, both with the arrogance of boys used to getting their way.
"You're Li Qingyun, right?" the leader said, arms crossed.
"Yes," Qingyun replied calmly.
"I'm Fang Yao. My father is General Fang of the Eastern Garrison."
Qingyun raised a brow slightly. So the boy had noble blood and military backing. No wonder he was so proud.
"You walk around like you're better than us," Fang Yao said, stepping closer. "I don't like it."
Qingyun smiled faintly. "That's odd. I wasn't walking around at all. Just standing here."
The two boys behind Fang Yao chuckled, but not in support. More like they were waiting for a show.
Fang Yao's face twitched. "You're mocking me?"
"I'm stating facts. But if you want to be mocked, I can oblige."
The smirk on Qingyun's lips pushed the other boy over the edge.
"Let's take this outside," Fang Yao said.
---
A small courtyard behind the classroom became their arena. A few students followed to watch.
"Don't cry when you lose," Fang Yao sneered.
"I won't," Qingyun said, loosening his arms. "But you might."
Fang Yao charged forward like a typical child throwing a tantrum, his form wild and unrefined. Qingyun sidestepped, lowered his stance, and gently nudged the boy's leg with his foot—not enough to harm, but enough to disrupt balance.
Thud.
Fang Yao fell flat on his face.
The watching students gasped. Qingyun didn't even punch him—he just... turned him into a joke.
"You!" Fang Yao shouted, leaping back up.
This time, his two friends lunged too, one from each side. Qingyun's calm demeanor didn't break. The Jade Body Tempering Scripture, now cultivated to perfection, made his body lean yet packed with power and resilience. His balance, reflexes, and strength far surpassed other children.
The first boy aimed a sloppy swing. Qingyun raised his arm to block—no pain, no flinch. He tapped the boy's chest, and the child stumbled back, breath knocked out of him.
The second tried to grab him. Qingyun stepped behind and swept the legs out from under him.
Three noble brats, down within seconds. And he hadn't even used force.
Fang Yao groaned on the ground, face red with embarrassment.
"Enough," Qingyun said, dusting his sleeves. "You got your lesson. I'm not here to fight, but I'm not someone you can step on either."
He turned to the watching students. "Anyone else with itchy fists?"
No one answered.
A silence settled. The show was over. Fang Yao and his friends climbed up and left, humiliated but not injured.
---
Back inside, the instructor returned to find the class in order. No one dared mention the brief scuffle. In noble circles, such things were handled quietly, and with discretion.
Qingyun sat at his seat and exhaled softly.
> "A little scuffle to establish my ground. I won't draw too much attention, but I also won't play the prey."
He knew that once his meridians awakened, he would leave these children far behind. But for now, he needed to understand the power games, observe the familial hierarchies, and prepare himself for the path of cultivation that awaited.
> "This world is built on strength and legacy. I'll build my own legacy—with patience and power."
As class resumed, Li Qingyun picked up the thin brush and began practicing calligraphy on a silk scroll. Each stroke was firm and precise—like the resolve etched deep into his soul.
---
[System Interface]
[Host]: Li Qingyun
[Realm]: None.
[Slots Available]: 1 (Second slot requires 50 points)
[Techniques Cultivating: None]
[Techniques Cultivated: Jade body tempering scripture (perfect) ]
[Energy]: 14