The air in the courtyard still hadn't fully settled. Dust spiraled lazily under the morning sun, drifting through the silence that hung after Yun Fei's fall. The boy who had once mocked with fearlessness now lay sprawled on the ground, groaning, clutching his ribs. His qi, once blazing like fire, flickered as though reduced to tattered embers.
The disciples surrounding the arena exchanged nervous glances, whispering feverishly.
"Did we see that… correctly?"
"Yun Fei was mid-Foundation! How could someone who can't even cultivate…?"
"That wasn't possible. Yun Tian shouldn't—he *couldn't*!"
Their voices buzzed, confused and terrified at the same time. To them, it was as if the sky had split and the impossible had stormed into their simple worldview.
At the center of it all stood Yun Tian, calm, straight, and unyielding. His plain robes fluttered faintly from the aftershock of residual qi. He didn't bask in the victory; he didn't sneer at Yun Fei's humiliation. He simply stood like an unmoved mountain.
But inside, his heart blazed like never before.
*So this is power. Real power.*
The feeling of qi flowing through once-dead meridians, swirling like a roaring river where once there was silence, filled his chest to bursting. His fists trembled slightly, not from fear, but from exhilaration. For so long… for so many years… he had endured the spit and scorn of his family. And in the span of a single breath, his shackles shattered.
For the first time, Yun Tian understood what his life could be. A life not as a pitied shadow—but as someone who stood among the stars.
"Yun… Yun Tian!" Yun Fei gasped, struggling up, eyes wide and bloodshot. His knees buckled, face pale from the clash, pride in tatters before all the clan youths. "That was… a trick! You… you cheated somehow! Trash like you doesn't suddenly—doesn't suddenly—!"
His trembling hand pointed, but his words failed. Every second that passed reeked of his humiliation.
Yun Tian lowered his head slightly, his gaze half-hidden by his messy hair.
"You speak of trash and talent… but which of us is rolling in the dirt now?"
Gasps echoed at his words. It was calm, simple, and spoken without aggression—but in that calmness lay a venom sharper than any insult.
"You—!" Yun Fei's qi flared desperately. Pride would not allow him to accept defeat before the others. He coiled to strike again—
"ENOUGH!"
The courtyard rocked with the weight of a thunderous voice.
Disciples stiffened instantly. Even Yun Fei froze, half-risen in rage, eyes widening at the source of the command.
From the main pavilion overlooking the courtyard, several senior clan elders had emerged. Their robes bore embroidered patterns of wolves and clouds—the honor-mark of Yun family leadership.
At their front stood Elder Yun Guang, the stern overseer of the younger generation's cultivation. His hawk-like eyes surveyed the scene coldly, and as his spiritual pressure swept the courtyard, lesser disciples lowered their heads at once.
Only Yun Tian silently held his ground, though the weight pressing upon him felt like a mountain looming.
"What insolence is this?" Yun Guang's voice cut like steel. "Disciples injuring one another in open spar without sanction? Yun Fei, you disgrace your position. You strike without honor."
"E-Elder!" Yun Fei stammered. "It wasn't me—it was him! Yun Tian—he… somehow won! He struck me down with… with…" His words faltered. Declaring that a so-called cripple had defeated him sounded hollow even to his own ears.
The disciples murmured, waiting for the verdict. Surely Elder Yun Guang would mock Yun Tian as always. Surely the natural order would not be overturned.
But the Elder's gaze lingered on Yun Tian for a long moment. His sharp brows furrowed ever so slightly.
"…You used a martial technique." The words were not a question but a statement.
The courtyard attention sharpened. Many had noticed—but hearing it confirmed aloud made it all the more jarring.
"Yes," Yun Tian said evenly, his tone calm though his body still thrummed with qi. "Fiery Palm."
Yun Fei's own technique. Yun Fei's face burned as though the sun had set itself upon him.
"Impossible!" the arrogant youth cried. "That's MY skill! Taught by Elder Chen personally! How could he—how could a cripple—replicate it perfectly in an instant? He must have stolen something from me! Elder, search him!"
The Elder's eyes narrowed. He studied Yun Tian keenly, as if searching for deceit.
Inside Yun Tian's mind, the familiar voice pulsed:
> [Threat detected.]
> [System concealment initiated. No anomalies will be traceable to host.]
Confidence eased his spine. His gaze met the Elder's directly, not challenging, yet completely unyielding.
"I have nothing to hide," Yun Tian said simply.
The courtyard held its breath again.
Finally, Yun Guang gave a slow grunt. "Enough. Internal rivalries end here. Yun Fei, your arrogance blinds you. Be grateful your injuries are not worse."
Yun Fei's face twisted between humiliation and reluctant submission as he bowed stiffly, forcing the words: "Yes… Elder." He limped away under the jeers of fate, teeth grinding with hatred.
Then Yun Guang's sharp eyes turned upon Yun Tian. "And you. Once declared a cripple… now exhibiting technique. Curious."
Dozens of young disciples waited eagerly for his condemnation. They wanted the farce restored—that this awakening was temporary, a fluke, or a trick.
But Elder Yun Guang's real thoughts were unreadable. "Attend the clan assembly tomorrow. The Patriarch himself will want answers."
The courtyard buzzed wildly. The Patriarch? To summon Yun Tian, the 'waste'?
Before Yun Tian could speak further, Elder Yun Guang turned and left with the other seniors, robes flowing like dark clouds in retreat.
Only silence and whispers remained.
Yun Tian closed his eyes briefly. The Patriarch… tomorrow. His path would soon be illuminated—or chained even further.
And deep within his heart, the System whispered again:
> [Event Trigger: Recognition Trial.]
> [Warning: Host will enter high-threat scenario. Probability of hostile suppression—elevated.]
> [Survival Requirement: win.]
Yun Tian's lips curled faintly. *Win? That much, I already decided.*
---
That night, under the glow of a pale moon, Yun Tian returned to his modest quarters on the far edge of the Yun estate. While others lived in spacious wings with servants to attend them, his chamber was no more than stone floors and a straw bed. Cold wind seeped through cracked walls.
It was here, among silence and shadow, where he finally allowed himself to breathe deeply.
His hand trembled again as qi flared brightly in his palm. Crimson flame sparked for an instant, illuminating the small room with flickering light.
*So it wasn't a dream…*
The feeling made his chest tighten, eyes sting—not with sorrow, but release. Twelve years. Twelve years of clenching his teeth while insults rained. Twelve years of living like a shadow, never striking back.
Now, that chapter was over.
He whispered aloud, voice hoarse but steady:
"Mother, if you're watching… your son is no longer weak."
A mechanical reply followed in his mind:
> [Cultivation pathway unlocked.]
> [Meridian correction complete. Host may circulate qi for the first stage of Tempering Realm.]
> [Due to Talent Reversal: cultivation efficiency ×100.]
Guided instinctively by the assimilation feature, Yun Tian sat cross-legged once more—not in pretense, not under humiliation—but in truth. He drew breath slowly, channeling qi through awakened circuits.
Warmth spread. Energy gathered. His blood roared in chorus with the world. In a single night, what ordinary students required months to achieve—he crossed entirely.
> [Progress: Tempering Realm — 1st Stage to 3rd Stage.]
His eyes snapped open, glowing faintly under moonlight.
The waste had risen past the starting line.
But as he exhaled, shadows stirred beyond the window. From the grove outside, a pair of eyes gleamed with venomous hatred. Yun Fei had not been humbled into silence.
He was plotting.
And the gathering tomorrow… would be far from peaceful.