From the perspective of Zhuge Yui Lan
The murmur of the arena was like a contained ocean, ready to overflow. Flags fluttered atop the towers, the sun filtered through heavy clouds, and every gaze — from the humblest peasants to the patriarchs of ancient lineages — converged on the center.
The ancestral platform rose there, simple and monumental at the same time — a circle of white jade, engraved with lines that seemed to breathe like sleeping dragons. It was in this space that illusions dissipated. Where the essence of each candidate was revealed without veils.
For most, it was the moment of hope. For some, of shame.
For Yu Jin… it was just one more inevitable step.
Yui Lan observed from her discreet seat. The breeze carried the heat of thousands of breaths, but her gaze remained fixed, impassive on the surface and heavy within. No one there understood the difference between this arena and the real world. Only she knew.
In the White Flame Empire, Spiritual Potential was revered as destiny. Naturally. How could it not be? Here, where cultivation resources were scarce and truly profound techniques even scarcer, the speed dictated by potential was the dividing line between glory and oblivion. How many elders had expired before crossing even a single gate into a higher cultivation realm? How many promising talents had become mere shadows because time granted them no clemency?
In a greater world, in sects that spanned eras, potential was still important… but not absolute. It could be altered, transcended, shaped by encounters or inheritances. However, for this limited empire, the glow on the platform was the voice of the heavens themselves.
That was why, when the elders announced the name Zhuge Yu Jin, silence fell like a blade.
He was the first to be called — not by chance, but by merit. He had surpassed the first two tests with a speed that shamed princes and geniuses of ancient lineages. His presence still echoed in the memory of the crowd. It was only natural that the eyes of the Empire awaited him now.
Yu Jin advanced.
Each step upon the jade sounded too loud, as if the entire arena breathed with him. There was no haste, no ostentation. Only the firm stride of someone who sought to prove nothing — and precisely because of that, seemed to challenge everyone.
Yui Lan laced her fingers upon her lap. Inside, she remembered the first time she had witnessed this moment, in her past life. She remembered the distorted stories, the tavern songs that spoke of thunder, phoenixes, and even golden flames. Reality was different. Simpler. Purer.
Yu Jin stopped at the center.
The platform reacted immediately.
Lines engraved in the jade lit up like rivers of light, converging beneath his feet. A deep hum coursed through the arena, vibrating in the bones of every spectator. Energy gathered around his body, and then — it exploded.
A purple brilliance.
Not a common color, not a timid reflection. But an intense violet flame, so vast it seemed to break through the boundaries of the jade circle. Waves of light rose in columns, staining the air, reaching even the eyes of those in the highest seats.
The crowd held its breath.
Yui Lan closed her eyes for an instant. She could feel the pressure of that radiance, not on her skin, but in her memory. The Purple color. The Celestial Potential. Rare enough to be sung of as myth in distant villages. Strong enough to be feared even in capitals.
In that instant, there was no doubt. The entire city — no, the entire Empire — shone in purple.
Gazes faltered. Some lifted in reverence, others in envy, many in fear. Patriarchs in the stands shifted in their seats, silk sleeves curling in restrained gestures. Young competitors bit their lips, some with eyes watering in humiliation, others with blind rage.
And yet, Yu Jin remained motionless.
He did not raise his arms, did not smile, did not seek gazes. He simply stood there, as if the world around him was nothing but noise. The purple flame required no words. It itself declared: here is one whom the heavens could not bury.
Yui Lan sighed silently.
"Yes… destiny has not changed. Once again, you are at the center."
And though she knew that the White Flame Empire was but a grain of dust amid countless worlds… in that moment, for everyone there, that grain of dust burned as if it were the very sun.
The jade of the platform shimmered in lines that pulsed like living veins. The silence was so deep that even the air seemed to hold its breath. Then, the brilliance emerged.
Purple.
Not like a timid flame, but like an erupting sea.
That instant was not merely spectacle — it was judgment. The White Flame Empire, so small and so limited compared to the worlds Yui Lan had known, treated Spiritual Potential as the very measure of heaven.
And, in truth, in places like this, it was hard to argue otherwise.
The truth was that spiritual potential was divided into nine realms.
▪️ Gray — the worst of all. The heavens denied, the earth ignored. An almost dead potential. Unless by absurd inheritance or opportunity, no one advanced. If there was anyone truly hated by the heavens, it was one marked by gray. Fortunately, they were rare.
▪️ Brown and Green — the ground of the world. The common layer. The majority of the population of mortal and immortal realms was born here. Cultivators who advanced step by step, some with luck reaching respectable heights, but nothing beyond that.
These three realms — Gray, Brown, and Green — formed what the ancients called the lower layer. The foundation of human immensity.
▪️ Cyan, Blue, and Indigo — the so-called tide layer. Where geniuses flourished. Here were the names that shaped sects, sustained empires, and wrote legends. In any continent, in any sect, these were the most celebrated potentials.
The majority of prestigious disciples, even those who competed at the pinnacles of the Empire, were contained within this tide.
But above it… there was something different. Something that defied even the logic of ancient sects.
▪️ Purple — the Celestial Potential. A color that did not belong to this limited world. Its emergence always meant turbulence, for it declared that the bearer was not merely a cultivator, but a force destined to be remembered. Kings, emperors, and heroes of entire eras had depended on this color to consolidate their greatness.
▪️ Gold — the Supreme Potential. The pinnacle that most of the world would never touch. In her entire past life, with four thousand years of memories, Yui Lan had only ever heard of a single golden cultivator, and he did not even belong to an empire such as this. Existences that molded immortal dynasties, comparable to cosmic pillars.
▪️ White — the Divine Potential. An aberration the heavens rarely allowed. A talent beloved by the Dao itself. Even sleeping day and night, without lifting a finger, such a one would cultivate faster than a golden exerting himself fully. Ridiculous. Unfair. An affront to the rules of the world. Yet even this gift was no guarantee of eternity. The past was full of whites who fell into silence. Even her brother, Zhuge Su Yeon, in his other life, had succumbed — not for lack of potential, but under the cruel weight of destiny.
In the end, someone of gray potential could rise to the world's peak, as many in history had, slowly, opportunity by opportunity, change by change; and someone of white potential could die in youth…. The world indeed creates rules, but society distorts them as it wishes.
Still, the impact of a high martial potential was real.
In that arena, the reason for the collective shock was simple: Empress Feng Yue, absolute ruler of the Empire, held only Indigo potential. Her most promising disciple, Wu Rue Lin — elder sister of Yu Jin's former fiancée — was also merely indigo.
And now… before the eyes of the entire capital, before clans, sects, and even the imperial court… a Purple brilliance had appeared.
A talent perhaps never before seen in the entire history of the White Flame Empire.
Yui Lan drew a deep breath. The roar that followed — the crowd breaking the silence in waves of disbelief — seemed to make the city walls tremble.
But she did not smile.
She did not feel surprise.
Because, unlike all those present, she already knew: this was only the beginning.