The morning sun poured over Shanghai City, reflecting off towering skyscrapers and ancient temples alike, blending centuries of history with the pulse of a new age. The city buzzed with life, but in the heart of it, a different rhythm played out—one of quiet determination and veiled strength.
Jigen sat on the edge of his bed, his gaze drifting over the small, cluttered room that had always been his refuge. Despite living in a wealthy family, his room was modest—just enough to feel like his own. The soft hum of his phone buzzing beside him was the only interruption in the peaceful morning.
He ignored it for a moment, closing his eyes and letting his mind drift. Today was the first day of a new term at school, a fresh start. Though he would continue to blend in, living as an ordinary sixteen-year-old, there was a subtle excitement in the air.
A knock at the door broke the silence. "Jigen? Breakfast's ready. Don't be late!" His mother's cheerful voice floated in.
Jigen opened his eyes and stretched, feeling the weight of another day. He stood and smoothed his shirt, preparing to step back into the world where no one knew the truth about him.
---
Downstairs, the breakfast table was laid out with the usual spread—steamed buns, fresh fruits, and fragrant tea. His parents were already seated, sharing quiet smiles as they watched him.
"Feeling ready for school, son?" his father asked, his tone casual but eyes sharp.
Jigen nodded. "Yeah. It's just school."
His mother reached out and ruffled his hair. "Don't forget to be yourself."
He smiled, knowing the meaning behind her words. To be himself was to hide who he truly was.
---
At school, the corridors were already filled with students, their voices echoing in the vast hallways. Jigen slipped through the crowd, his expression unreadable. He spotted Akai near the entrance, her long white hair flowing like a beacon amidst the sea of faces.
"Jigen!" she called, waving him over.
He approached, and she grinned. "Ready for another term of 'normal'?"
Jigen smirked slightly. "As ready as I'll ever be."
They walked together to their classroom, the conversation light but comfortable. Yet beneath the surface, Jigen felt the familiar stirrings of curiosity and anticipation.
---
The day passed with the usual mix of lessons and small moments. Jigen kept to himself mostly, answering questions politely but never inviting more attention than necessary. Akai sat beside him, occasionally nudging him with a question or comment, but he remained distant, as always.
During lunch, a sudden commotion near the school gate caught everyone's attention. A group of older students, known for their bullying, had cornered a smaller boy, their voices harsh and threatening.
Without hesitation, Akai stood up, her eyes blazing. "Back off."
The bullies sneered, but Akai's fearless stance and the sharpness in her voice made them hesitate. With a swift punch that landed squarely on the leader's jaw, the bullies scattered, leaving the smaller boy unharmed.
Jigen watched quietly, impressed despite himself. Akai's courage was undeniable.
---
Later, as the sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the city, Jigen found himself walking alone through a quiet park. The air was cool, carrying the scent of blooming flowers and distant rain.
Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice the soft footsteps behind him until a familiar voice broke the silence.
"Hey, Jigen."
He turned to see Akai, her expression softer now, less fiery.
"Walk with me?"
He nodded.
As they strolled beneath the canopy of trees, the city's noises faded, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves.
Akai glanced at him. "You ever think about what you want? Beyond school, beyond pretending?"
Jigen looked up at the sky. "Sometimes."
She smiled. "You don't have to say anything, you know. Just... if you ever want someone to understand."
He met her gaze, and for a fleeting moment, the walls he built felt thinner.
---
That night, back in his room, Jigen's thoughts circled back to Akai. Her boldness, her kindness—it was something rare in a world obsessed with power and status.
Though he kept his secrets locked tight, he felt the stirrings of something new—a connection beyond the surface, something real.
Tomorrow would come, as always, bringing new challenges and choices.
But for now, Jigen allowed himself a moment of quiet hope.
The next day, the sky wore a silvery shroud of clouds, casting a gentle gray hue over Shanghai City. The towering skyscrapers shimmered like obsidian pillars, reflecting the pulse of urban life. Though cultivation shaped much of the city's landscape, not everyone could feel the undercurrents of power flowing through the air. For someone like Jigen, those forces were merely background noise—annoying static he had learned to ignore.
Jigen stepped out of his apartment wearing his school uniform, the white jacket crisply ironed, his black slacks spotless. His parents had already left for the day—his mother to manage their family's antique business, and his father to a high-level cultivation council meeting. Their roles were well-respected, and even feared. Yet Jigen, the ordinary "non-cultivator" son, walked among people with no air of importance, just a neutral expression and a quiet gait.
He made his way to the subway station like any average student. The morning crowd was thick, and the air smelled faintly of roasted chestnuts from a nearby stall. Inside the train, he leaned against the rail, silently observing the advertisements that flashed across the smart windows—new alchemy pills, spiritual gear discounts, and high-tier sect recruitment announcements.
A small child nearby tugged on their mother's sleeve. "Mom, why doesn't he have any aura?" she whispered curiously, pointing at Jigen.
The mother flinched and pulled the child's hand down. "Shh! Don't be rude. He's just… special."
Jigen glanced at them, offering the faintest smile, then turned his gaze back out the window. He knew people talked. The rumors were always the same—"The powerless son of the richest cultivator couple"—"A blemish on a perfect legacy"—"Why hasn't he been disowned yet?"
But none of it ever reached him. Not truly. How could the words of ants pierce the skin of a dragon?
---
At school, the day began with routine announcements and classes. Math, alchemy theory, rune history, and cultivation ethics filled the morning schedule. Jigen sat at his desk near the window, his chin resting on his palm as he let the teacher's droning voice wash over him like a slow tide.
Akai sat beside him, her long white hair braided today into a neat tail that shimmered like snow under sunlight. She didn't speak much during classes, which surprised him. Usually, she had some snarky remark or random question. But today, she was silent.
During the third period, Professor Yun was explaining the foundational differences between qi, spiritual essence, and elemental intent when a loud crash echoed from the corridor.
Everyone turned.
Seconds later, the classroom door burst open. A group of older students marched in—three boys and one girl, all dressed in the colors of Grade 12 Sect Division, known for their arrogance and raw strength.
One of them, tall and broad with arms like logs, pointed at Jigen. "You. You're the one who got into Class S without cultivation?"
The room tensed.
Jigen didn't flinch. "Yeah?"
"You got connections, huh?" The guy sneered. "I'm Chen Bao. I don't like weaklings pretending to be elite."
Akai stood before Jigen in an instant. "If you're looking for a punching bag, find someone else."
Chen Bao smirked. "Oh, we know you, Akai. White Hair Devil, right? Heard you beat three outer sect trainees in your first year. But this isn't about you."
"Then walk away before I decorate the walls with your face," she replied coldly.
The girl among the intruders stepped forward. "Enough, Chen. He's not worth it."
With a scoff, the group turned and left, leaving behind a trail of tension that slowly dissolved as the class resumed.
Jigen leaned forward and whispered to Akai, "You didn't have to do that."
"I did." Her voice was soft but firm. "You're not alone, even if you think you are."
Jigen didn't respond. But for a moment, something behind his calm eyes wavered.
---
Later that day, during lunch break, the cafeteria buzzed with life. Tables were packed, trays clattered, and steam from hot dishes wafted into the air. Jigen walked past it all, opting for a quiet bench in the courtyard.
He sat alone under the cherry blossom tree—though it was spring, the tree bore white petals, which drifted down around him like snowflakes.
Akai arrived moments later, holding two boxes of take-out. Without asking, she sat beside him and handed him one.
"You eat too little," she said.
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't think it's strange that I'm the only guy who can't cultivate, but I never get sick, never tired, and still eat like a bird?"
"Maybe," she said with a shrug. "But I'm not the type who believes everything I hear. Besides… being strange makes you interesting."
Jigen opened the box. Fried rice with golden eggs and spiritual pork—typical cultivator food. He picked at it quietly.
"You know," she continued, "I think you're hiding something."
He paused. "Hiding what?"
"I don't know yet," Akai said, tilting her head. "But I don't believe you're weak. You act like someone pretending to be average. But even when those bullies cornered you, your heartbeat didn't change. Most people would panic, sweat. You didn't even blink."
Jigen didn't answer.
"I'll find out eventually," she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Even if it takes all year."
He looked at her with a subtle, unreadable expression. Then, as always, he returned his gaze to the cherry blossoms.
"Good luck," he said.
---
As dusk approached and classes ended, the school emptied. Jigen stayed behind, volunteering for library duty. He liked the quiet, the dust, the sense of time standing still. Books about ancient cultivation arts, forbidden spells, spirit beast taming, and interdimensional theory lined the shelves.
He didn't read them for knowledge—he already knew more than they could offer. But he liked seeing how mortals perceived power.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the hall.
"Of course, it's you," Akai said, entering with her bag slung over one shoulder. "I checked the classroom, the field, even the roof. Only place left was here."
Jigen sighed. "Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Nope." She flopped onto a nearby chair. "You're interesting, and I'm persistent."
"Don't you get tired of chasing someone who doesn't want to be chased?"
She leaned forward. "You think that's what this is? A chase? No. This is curiosity. You're like a puzzle with missing edges. I want to see the full picture."
He set down the book in his hand.
"You're not going to stop, are you?"
"Nope."
He stood, walking past her toward the door. "Then try to keep up."
Akai blinked, then smiled to herself before grabbing her bag and following him out.
---
That night, under the pale glow of moonlight, Jigen stood on the rooftop of his home. The city below shimmered like a sea of stars, and above, the heavens stretched endlessly.
He raised a hand slowly and snapped his fingers.
Time paused.
Birds froze mid-flight. Cars stopped in their tracks. Leaves halted in mid-fall.
Only Jigen moved.
He breathed in the stillness of the world, his eyes glowing faintly for the briefest of moments.
"I wonder…" he whispered. "How long can I pretend to be like them?"
Then he snapped his fingers again, and the world resumed.
And just like that, he went back downstairs, back to being ordinary.