Chapter 1: The Echo of a God's Dream
"What is happening? What am I doing? Where am I…?" Duan Liyang stirred, the words a jumble in his mind. "Ah, what a strange dream that was."
In his dream, he'd seen himself destroying the world with a mere flick of his wrist.
He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "What a joke. Me, destroying the world? I get easily beaten by even Level 0 people, and I'm a Level 0 cultivator myself!"
A furious scream from outside shattered the quiet of the morning. "What are you doing, you useless man?! Go and clean the entire courtyard!"
"It's enough that a piece of garbage like you still finds a place in our esteemed family. You should be thrown out for being so worthless!"
Duan Liyang knew that voice all too well. It belonged to Ren Hao, the personal attendant of one of the esteemed elders' grandsons.
Ren Hao delighted in tormenting Duan Liyang, especially ever since Duan Liyang had, years ago, displayed a rare talent that earned him a brief moment of respect within the family. That respect had ignited a searing jealousy in the hearts of the five elders' grandsons.
At the tender age of five, Duan Liyang had shown the rare ability to begin cultivation, a feat most children only achieved around eight. This unusual aptitude had caught the attention of senior officials, who lauded him as a child of great promise.
Yet, three years later, he remained inexplicably stuck at Level 0, unable to advance on the path to true power.
Duan Liyang stepped out of his small hut to find Ren Hao standing there, his face contorted in anger, looking as if he might strike Duan Liyang at any moment.
Duan Liyang, having no desire for conflict, simply picked up his broom and headed towards the courtyard to begin cleaning.
This was the Xiao Family, one of the five great clans. Their rules were as rigid and pervasive as those of a strict community.
Here, everyone was assigned tasks according to their capabilities. Those at Level 0, like Duan Liyang, were relegated to menial chores such as cleaning and other low-level labor.
Duan Liyang had never complained. He held onto the quiet hope that one day he would break free from Level 0 and ascend to true power.
His true family name, however, was not Xiao, but Lin. His father had married into the Lin family, which was why his surname held that distinction.
He remembered nothing of his early childhood. He had been raised by an old man who had passed away when Duan Liyang was just four years old.
The whereabouts of his parents remained a mystery; the elders only ever said his father disappeared during a mission.
"Hey, come on! Today's the last day of the month! Let's go collect our money! The family's distributing it in the Southern Hall. Go tell the others, Duan Liyang!"
This wasn't a family in the traditional sense, but a highly structured community. On the last day of every month, each person received an allowance based on their cultivation level.
Duan Liyang held no particular enthusiasm for this ritual. As a Level 0 cultivator, he only received a meager two silver coins.
He needed a specific herb for cultivation, and he was meticulously saving every coin for it. The two silver coins from last month had barely covered his basic needs.
Now, he would save the two coins he was about to receive, bringing his total to four. Once he accumulated five, he could finally purchase the crucial herb for cultivation. He simply lacked the resources to advance.
To put it in perspective, a Level 1 cultivator received ten coins each month, illustrating the stark difference between the levels.
Suddenly, a searing pain shot through Duan Liyang's head, causing him to stagger and collapse to the ground.
"Hey, look! What happened to Duan Liyang? He seems to have fallen and passed out!" a boy standing nearby shouted.
"He's probably faking it, the scoundrel! Just trying to shirk work!" Ren Hao bellowed, his voice laced with disdain.
Most people around seemed to agree with Ren Hao. But even as he lay unconscious, Duan Liyang's head throbbed with an agonizing pain, as if it were being crushed.
A chubby boy, who didn't believe Duan Liyang was faking, stepped forward to help him.
"What are you doing, Fatty?" Ren Hao demanded, eyeing the boy suspiciously. "Don't tell me you're trying to shirk your own work by helping him?"
The chubby boy bristled. He absolutely detested being called "Fatty." Whenever someone used that nickname, his anger flared. "Ren Hao, keep quiet, or else—"
"Or else what?" Ren Hao challenged, a smirk playing on his lips.
The chubby boy managed to rein in his temper. He knew Ren Hao was the attendant of an elder's grandson, a position that granted him a degree of immunity.
He carefully lifted Duan Liyang and quietly carried him away, declaring, "I'll do Duan Liyang's work."
Duan Liyang had once helped the chubby boy significantly, and he was the only person who had never called him "Fatty." This act of kindness was why the chubby boy was now helping Duan Liyang.
He carried Duan Liyang to his own humble dwelling, carefully laid him on the bed, and then went back out to complete Duan Liyang's assigned chores.
Duan Liyang was still in immense pain, muffled screams escaping his lips, but his hut was in a deserted area, his cries unheard.
Slowly, agonizingly, the pain radiated, first reaching his eyes, then a sharp agony spreading through his entire body. It felt as if every bone in his body was shattering.
"Ah... I'm alive," Duan Liyang thought, disoriented, having been certain he had died.
"Why does everything look so different today?"
He glanced out the window, and on a distant tree, he could clearly discern every feather on two small birds. The world seemed sharper, more vibrant, than he had ever perceived it before.
(this is my first time to write a novel so sorry for any mistake and support me please because my dream is becoming a novel writer)