Morning sunlight spilled across the Lin Clan estate, painting the training grounds gold. Today, the younger generation gathered beneath the shadow of the ancestral hall. The elders sat high upon a stone platform, their gazes cold as winter steel.
It was the Selection of Worth—the yearly examination where youths were measured, ranked, and judged. Those who shone would earn resources, teachers, and honor. Those who failed would be discarded to menial posts, their paths forever crippled.
Lin Tianhai stood among them, thin frame swallowed in a plain robe. His presence drew whispers like flies to rot.
"There he is, the cripple."
"Why does he even bother showing up?"
"If not for his dead father's name, the elders would've thrown him out years ago."
Every word stabbed like a needle, yet Tianhai did not lift his eyes. He had grown used to their mockery. But today, something heavier pressed upon him: the fear that the whispers might prove true.
On the platform, Elder Lin Yusheng cleared his throat. His gaze swept over the gathered youths, sharp and appraising. When it landed on Tianhai, a flicker of disdain passed across his face, quickly hidden.
"The clan's bloodline is our pride," the elder declared. "Those who fail to awaken their roots bring shame upon us all. This year's Selection will determine who is worthy of cultivation—and who is not."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Tianhai's fists clenched at his sides. He could almost hear the unspoken words: This year, he will be cast out.
The first tests began. One by one, youths stepped forward, striking the resonance stone to measure their qi. Each successful pulse lit the stone with faint light, earning nods of approval. Some even drew praise for their promising talent.
When Lin Zhen's turn came, the stone flared bright. Cheers erupted, and Zhen turned with a smirk, letting his gaze linger mockingly on Tianhai.
Finally, it was Tianhai's name that was called.
He stepped forward, his body trembling—not from weakness, but from the weight of every eye upon him. The resonance stone loomed before him, smooth and cold.
Blood is the root… resonance the bridge.
He pressed his palm against the stone. For a moment, there was nothing—only silence, as it had always been. Snickers rose from the crowd.
"See? Hopeless."
"He'll never even enter Qi Refinement."
Desperation coiled in Tianhai's chest. He tried again, focusing, drawing upon the faint trickle he had felt in the misty yard. Sweat rolled down his brow. For an instant, the stone flickered—so faintly it might have been an illusion. Then the light died.
The laughter exploded.
Elder Yusheng's voice cut through it, sharp as a blade. "Enough. Lin Tianhai, your results are clear. You remain unawakened. Your presence only dishonors the main branch. After the Selection, your cultivation rights will be revoked."
The words fell like a hammer. Tianhai's vision blurred. Revoked? That meant no more resources, no access to the clan library, no recognition even as a disciple. Worse—it meant his last tie to his father's legacy would be severed.
He bowed stiffly, his body cold, his pride burning.
As he turned to leave, he caught sight of his mother standing at the edge of the crowd. Once the daughter-in-law of the clan's most promising son, she was now a pale shadow, worn down by years of scorn. Her eyes met his, full of sorrow she could not voice.
Tianhai swallowed hard. His throat ached, his chest tight. The laughter of cousins rang behind him. The elders' judgment rang above him. His mother's silence rang within him.
For a moment, he wished he could vanish, dissolve into the mist and never return.
But deep within his marrow, something pulsed. Weak, faint—but real. The Sutra's resonance.
As he walked away from the hall, his fists clenched until blood welled from his palms.
They want me discarded. Forgotten. Buried
Then I will rise from the grave they dig for me.