Three months later, the Hall announced the annual Spirit Youth Training Camp, a proving ground where promising disciples tested their martial insight and teamwork. For most, it was a ceremony of exhaustion and pride. For Liu Feng, it was an opportunity to listen — not to orders, but to the rhythm of people.
He was seven, though the years seemed irrelevant. His presence in the camp drew scrutiny; whispers slithered like rain through tall grass. Some called him "Saint's Shadow." Others called him "Starborn."
He ignored all of it.
The camp stretched along the banks of the Silvermist River — a land of willows, pale sand, and mist that glowed in morning light. Over a hundred students gathered, clad in varying colors of the Hall's divisions: blue for scholars, red for warriors, white for healers, gray for tacticians.
Each squad was to be tested in two categories: spirit control and tactical formation. The winner would gain access to the Hall's inner libraries — and the right to choose their mentor.
BiBi Dong, from the observer's terrace, spoke to the instructors. "Let him compete normally. No privileges."
Liu Feng was placed in Squad Eleven, a mix of older students who considered him a child-specter among them. Their leader, Chao Lin, was a proud boy of twelve with the spirit of an iron hawk. "Just don't get in our way, genius," he muttered as they assembled.
The first trial was The Mirror Plains — a field illusion that replicated each fighter's strengths and weaknesses. The task: survive the reflection.
As they entered the domain, a shimmer rippled, and out of the air emerged their mirror doubles — spirits woven from their own doubts and hidden fears. Chao Lin charged at his double with reckless bravado, and the clash was a storm of metal. But each strike his reflection copied perfectly.
Liu Feng watched for a full minute before moving. The system whispered:
> [Observe. Patterns repeat every eight heartbeats. Adjust rhythm. Find the silence between mirrors.]
He stepped forward, Genesis Dual Blade sheathed. His reflection raised its weapon, waiting. But Liu Feng did not attack. Instead, he breathed once, then once more, and whispered a single syllable of the old divine language Eith er had shown him in dreams.
The reflection froze.
He stepped closer and pressed his palm against its chest. "You are not my enemy," he said. "You are my echo."
Light shattered — the illusion dissolved like water under sunlight. The plains reformed, and where his double had stood, a faint glyph remained suspended, pulsing softly.
> [Result: Reflection harmonized, not destroyed.]
[Achievement unlocked — "Unity of Self."]
When the trial ended, Squad Eleven was the only team still standing. The instructors, astonished, recorded the results. BiBi Dong's expression remained unreadable, though her eyes lingered longer than usual on her student.
Later that evening, when the camp rested near the river, Chao Lin approached him. "How did you do that?" he asked, equal parts awe and suspicion.
"I listened," Liu Feng replied simply. "Everything repeats — even fear."
Chao Lin scowled. "You talk like an elder."
"Maybe," Liu Feng said, smiling faintly. "But elders forget what children still remember — that balance doesn't mean peace. It means motion."
From that night, Squad Eleven followed his suggestions in every test — not because he ordered them, but because each of his predictions unfolded with eerie precision.
By the end of the camp, they won every category.
The Hall's archives would later record: "At the age of seven years and four months, Liu Feng demonstrated predictive reasoning exceeding elite Spirit Masters. When asked how he foresaw his opponent's choices, he replied: 'I don't foresee. I listen to causality breathe.'"
That same night, the system delivered a quiet notice:
> [Early Tasks completed.]
[Genesis Core: Stable.]
[Unlocking — Secondary Path: Dominion of Thought.]
[New directive available: Contact protocol with external consciousness node 'Chian Renshu' detected.]
The name lingered like a seed in his mind. He did not know yet who Chian Renshu was — only that the path of creation had begun to intersect with something vast, and alive.
BiBi Dong, watching the moon from her balcony, whispered to the empty sky, "May the gods not notice you too soon, my child."
But above the clouds, in the Crystal Heart of the Divine, five thrones turned their gaze toward
the mortal world — and the threads of prophecy began to tighten.