Morning light slipped through the lattice shutters of Luo Hao's chamber, spilling across his face like molten gold. The heat pried his eyes open. He blinked, squinting against the glare, and realized he had slumped forward in the chair where he'd sat the night before. *Fell asleep again,* he thought, rubbing the ache from his neck. The tray of food from last night remained untouched save for the empty wine cup. He turned toward the window. Sunlight bathed the sprawling Luo estate in a cruel, vibrant glow. "Today is the day".
A soft knock sounded at the door.
"Young Master, are you awake?" Ming Yue's voice was gentle, but an icy edge lurked beneath.
Luo Hao straightened his rumpled robe, wiped the flecks of blood from his lips with the back of his hand, and answered evenly, "Come in."
The door slid open. Ming Yue stepped inside, her gaze flicking immediately to the cold tray. A flash of annoyance twisted her features before she smoothed it into a practiced smile. Luo Hao caught every flicker—he had seen that false sweetness a thousand times and despised it more with each repetition.
"Young Master," she said, voice honeyed, "you barely touched your dinner."
"I didn't feel like eating." His tone remained flat".
Ming Yue glided to the wardrobe, selecting his ceremonial attire. "It must be the excitement of the awakening ceremony. I hope Young Master awakens a high-rank spirit soul." She laid the garments across the bed: a golden robe embroidered with pale floral patterns, a silk-green tunic, and matching golden trousers.
Luo Hao glanced at the gaudy ensemble and felt his stomach turn. "I'll wear what I have on."
"But Young Master, today is—"
"So what?" he cut in.
She froze, frustration tightening her fists. He sensed her irritation even before she spoke.
"Leave." His tone brooked no argument.
Ming Yue's smile froze. She bowed stiffly, gathered the tray, and retreated. The moment the door shut behind her, she muttered, "Insufferable dying fool. First time he's ever snapped like that."
Luo Hao rose, crossed to the bathing room, and washed quickly. He donned the same plain white tunic, black robe, and black trousers—simple, unassuming, the garb of a ghost. Then he stepped into the corridor.
Servants scurried past, eyes averted, heads bowed. Once, they had bowed out of respect; now they bowed to avoid looking at the walking corpse. He paid them no mind. Distractions were luxuries he could not afford.
The main hall loomed ahead, its vermilion pillars carved with coiling dragons. Inside, three figures waited: his uncle Luo Zhen, cousin Luo Jin, and Chief Xuan.
Luo Hao strode past his uncle and cousin without a glance and stopped before the chief. He cupped his hands and bowed. "Good morning, Chief Xuan. I trust the day finds you well."
The chief chuckled, raising Luo Hao's hands in a warm grip. "Quite well, thank you."
Luo Zhen's polite smile twitched. Luo Jin clicked his tongue, irritation plain.
Luo Hao noticed. He cared as much as the moon cares for a howling dog.
Chief Xuan's expression turned solemn. "Let us begin." The hall trembled. A colossal golden Buddha with six arms materialized behind the chief, seated in lotus position, radiating ancient might. Luo Hao's breath caught. His Spirit Soul… a Golden Buddha,a rank 3 spirit soul Maybe even higher.
Has he already crossed into the Nihility Realm?
Possibly the Ascended realm…
In a flash of golden light, the world folded. When vision returned, they stood within a vast subterranean cavern. No torches, no skylight—yet the space glowed with soft, sourceless radiance. At its heart bubbled an enormous spring, its surface shimmering with countless motes of light that drifted upward like fireflies.
Chief Xuan gestured grandly. "Welcome to the Primeval Spring. Here you will awaken your spirit soul and take your first step on the path of cultivation." His voice echoed off the stone. "Some truths you may already know, but listen well. As you may have known a spirit soul is the physical manifestation of one's soul. Form matters little; essence determines rank and potential. There are five ranks, judged at awakening yet capable of growth through cultivation."
He summoned the six-armed Buddha again. "Sixty years ago, mine awakened as rank one. Through relentless refinement, it ascended to rank three. Yet never neglect the vessel, your body. A mighty spirit soul housed in a frail frame will shatter its cage and claim your life." His gaze lingered on Luo Hao as he spoke the final words.
Luo Zhen's eyes gleamed with malice.
"Enough talk," the chief declared. "Luo Jin, you first."
Luo Jin swaggered forward, brimming with confidence. Together he and the chief stepped onto the spring's surface as though it were solid ground. Luo Hao's brows rose. Impress by the chief Precise manipulation of his primeval energy.
At the center, Chief Xuan instructed, "Relax. Let the spring pull you under. The deeper you sink, the stronger the resonance."
Luo Jin nodded and dropped. The liquid closed over him without a splash.
Chief Xuan returned to the shore, joining Luo Hao and Luo Zhen. Luo Hao asked, "Won't he drown?"
The chief laughed. "The Primeval Spring is not water. It only looks like it. He's sinking into pure energy, not drowning."
Twenty minutes crawled by. The longer one lingered, the greater the initial endowment of energy and the higher the spirit soul's starting rank.
Then the cavern quaked. Cracks spider-webbed across the walls; dust rained from the ceiling. With a thunderous eruption, Luo Jin exploded upward in a column of water and light. Primeval energy surged toward him in visible torrents, coiling around his body like eager serpents.
Chief Xuan's eyes widened. Such density… exceptional.
Razor grass vine, it's appearance was golden mix with silver —burst from the spring and wrapped around Luo Jin, lifting him gently to the ground. Luo Zhen shouted, "That's my boy! Razor Grass Vine, same as mine!"
The chief examined the manifestation. "Not merely the same—superior. Rank two at awakening. Your vine at awakening was rank one, Luo Zhen. Your son has more potential than you."
Luo Zhen's chest swelled with pride. He rushed forward, embracing Luo Jin. "You've made me proud, son."
"I told you I wouldn't disappoint," Luo Jin replied, smirking.
The chief approached, nodding approval. "Congratulations, Luo Jin. A 500-meter vine, 50 centimeters thick prodigious. At this rate, you may eclipse me before you reach my age." He clapped Luo Zhen's shoulder. "The Luo blood runs strong."
Luo Hao watched in silence. So this is what the world calls talent?, A bitter smile ghosted across his lips. Then let the world witness what a dying man can do.