Laughter and whispers rippled through the morning air.
The main square of Qi Yue City was packed with people, young candidates, elders, merchants, and even cultivators from distant towns.
Today was the most important day for every fifteen-year-old, the Spirit Core Awakening Ceremony. It was the day one's fate would be revealed: whether they were born to walk the path of cultivation, or destined to live as ordinary mortals forever.
The sky above Qi Yue shone pale blue, calm yet heavy. Even the birds seemed hesitant to sing.
Among the crowd, a young man walked quietly. His gray robe was worn, his belt frayed, and his black hair tied back loosely.
His name was Jian Wu, son of a poor carpenter from the city's southern district. He had no family name of prestige, no clan heritage, and no hint of spiritual power.
All he carried was a faint hope, and the weight of hundreds of eyes waiting for him to fail.
"That's the carpenter's boy, right?"
"Yeah, poor kid. I heard he can't even sense spiritual energy."
"If he awakens a core, I'll shave my head on the spot!"
Jian Wu heard every word, but his steps didn't falter. He kept his head down, though not from shame, just to hide the quiet storm in his chest.
He was used to being the target of laughter, but somehow, every insult still managed to sting fresh.
On the stone platform ahead stood an elder draped in crimson robes, his white hair bound in a high knot.
Behind him hung a large banner bearing the sigil of the Azure Sky Sect, the strongest sect in Qi Yue Province.
The sect ruled from the eastern slopes of the Yunlan Mountains, where spiritual energy gathered like a living river. They accepted only those born with a natural core, anyone without one would never set foot beyond their gates.
In the center of the stage rested a huge silver crystal, its surface smooth and faintly pulsing with light. Whoever placed their hand upon it would reveal the color of their spirit, the brighter the glow, the greater their potential.
The elder lifted the parchment list.
"Number seventeen," he called, his voice echoing through the square. "Jian Wu."
A wave of laughter rolled through the crowd. People leaned toward each other, whispering jokes. Everyone knew this would be entertaining.
Jian Wu climbed the steps slowly. His palms were cold, but his eyes steady.
Standing before the crystal, he caught his reflection on its mirrored surface, a boy of no importance, no wealth, no talent. Yet in that reflection, something quiet burned.
"Place your hand," said the elder flatly.
Jian Wu nodded. He inhaled once, deeply, and pressed his hand to the stone.
For a moment, the crystal trembled. A faint blue light flickered inside, and then vanished. Completely dark.
Silence blanketed the square.
Then came the laughter.
"Hah! The crystal died!"
"Even heaven refuses him!"
"No wonder he's a carpenter's son, no core, no hope!"
The elder sighed. "No spiritual core detected. You may leave."
The words landed like stones. Jian Wu's fingers lingered on the cold crystal before he pulled them away.
He stared up at the sky. The morning light had dimmed slightly, clouds gathering at the edges.
"If there is no path for me," he whispered, "then I'll carve my own."
His voice was quiet, but firm, the kind of quiet that made the world listen, even if only for a second.
Then he turned, stepped down from the stage, and walked past the crowd.
No tears. No anger. Just calm resolve.
As he made his way through the street, the whispers followed him like shadows.
He didn't mind. For the first time in his life, he felt strangely… free.
Then, without warning, thunder rumbled above the city.
A single bolt of lightning tore through the sky, though there were no storm clouds.
People gasped and looked up in confusion. Only Jian Wu stopped walking.
The wind brushed his face, and in that moment, a voice echoed faintly inside his mind.
"An empty vessel… unbound by heaven."
He froze. The world around him seemed to ripple.
He looked at his hands, and for a brief second, faint streaks of black and white light shimmered beneath his skin, swirling like twin rivers.
Then it disappeared.
"Jian Wu!" his mother called from the crowd, her voice trembling.
He turned to her with a gentle smile. "I'm fine, Mother."
Then he walked away, his figure disappearing into the mist that rolled in from the mountains.
That evening, the people of Qi Yue gossiped endlessly. Some pitied him, others mocked him, but everyone remembered his name.
They called him the boy without a core, the boy who defied heaven.
Yet high on the mountain, in the meditation chamber of the Azure Sky Sect, something stirred.
The testing crystal that had gone dark suddenly flickered again. Within it, two colors, black and white, danced slowly, intertwining before fading into stillness once more.
No one noticed. No one understood.
Meanwhile, Jian Wu sat alone beneath the leaking roof of his small home. The rain whispered softly against the wood.
He stared at his hands, remembering the flicker of light he'd seen.
"Maybe," he murmured, "emptiness isn't the same as nothing."
He stood and looked eastward, toward the towering silhouette of the Azure Mountains.
From this distance, he could barely see the faint glow of the sect's outer walls.
His jaw tightened.
"If the world closes its door to me," he said, "then I'll tear down its walls."
That night, without saying goodbye, he left home.
The road was rough and silent, the air heavy with mist.
Each step echoed faintly against the stones as he walked toward the mountains.
Lightning flashed once again behind him, not in anger, but like a signal.
Deep within the sect's temple, several elders opened their eyes from meditation.
"The heavens just trembled," one whispered.
"Impossible. No one awakened a core today."
But from the window, far in the eastern sky, a streak of black and white light cut through the clouds, faint, but real.
Jian Wu reached the cliff's edge near dawn.
The city below was quiet, just a cluster of dim lights swallowed by fog.
Rain fell gently, soaking his robe.
He lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes.
"They call me empty," he said softly. "But maybe in that emptiness… I'll find everything."
For a long time, he stood still.
Then, somewhere deep inside him, something stirred, quiet, steady, alive.
Not a spark of power, but a heartbeat that did not belong to heaven or earth.
A pulse from a soul that refused to vanish.