The roar of the crowd was a physical force, a wave of sound that washed over the Ancestral Plaza. They chanted his name, "Young Master Li," as if it were a divine mantra.
His father's laughter, a thunderous boom of pride, echoed above it all. "The Li Clan's destiny is manifest!" he declared, his voice carrying over the din. "For generations, we have been but powerful subjects. Now, the heavens themselves have granted us the means to touch the throne!"
A cool indifference settled over Li Wei amidst the fiery adulation. This was nothing more than what was foretold by his very existence. This so-called 'Saint Root' was no surprise. It was merely the world finally acknowledging a truth he had known since he could first form a coherent thought: he was superior.
From the moment he could walk, he mastered martial forms that took others years to learn. By the age of ten, his calligraphy was praised as the work of a master, and his understanding of strategy could confound the clan elders.
Everything came easy. So easy, in fact, that the slightest imperfection, the smallest inconvenience, felt like a personal affront. A stain on the perfect tapestry of his life.
His eyes scanned the crowd of kneeling figures, their faces a mixture of awe and terror. This level of worship was appropriate, yet their noisy clamor was beginning to grate on his nerves.
*They think this Awakening is the source of my power,* he mused, a flicker of contempt in his heart. *Fools. This is just the beginning.*
In the Grand Xia Empire, the laws of cultivation were strict. One's body was a vessel, and it had to be forged before it could be filled. Until the Awakening Ceremony at the age of eighteen, no one could truly begin the path of Qi Cultivation. To do so with an unprepared body would be suicide; the meridians would simply rupture.
So, for eighteen years, all youths practiced Body Cultivation. It was a tedious, grueling process of strengthening the mortal shell through physical hardship and herbal medicines. It had its own distinct realms: Iron Skin, allowing one to withstand the blows of common weapons; Bronze Bone, granting the strength to shatter boulders with a single strike; and Silver Marrow, which could multiply one's physical power tenfold, granting a punch the force of a stampeding beast.
Most of the disciples here were still struggling in the Iron Skin realm. He, on the other hand, had reached the peak of the Silver Marrow Realm a year ago. His body was already a perfected weapon, a flawless chalice ready to receive the boundless river of Qi his Saint Root would provide.
This foundational Body Cultivation was, of course, different from the Body Tempering that accompanied Qi Cultivation. What he had done was prepare the foundation. What came next was reinforcing that foundation with the very essence of the heavens and earth, to build a divine palace upon it.
His gaze drifted over the other disciples. They were pathetic sights, pale and trembling. One of them, a boy named Li Tian who had once foolishly postured as a rival, simply stood there, his face ashen, his spirit utterly shattered.
Li Jin and Li Bao, Wei's loyal hounds, were prostrated nearby, their voices barely audible amidst the general clamor. "Young Master Li, your glory is boundless!" Li Jin cried out, tears streaming down his face. "A true emperor!" Li Bao echoed, trembling with awe.
*Insects buzzing,* Li Wei thought, dismissing them all. Their despair and adoration were equally meaningless, like the rustling of leaves in the wind.