The morning sky above Qi Yue City shimmered with golden light, as if the heavens themselves were waiting for a new generation of geniuses to rise. The air buzzed with excitement. Merchants shouted, children laughed, and elders filled the streets, all walking toward the same place, the Spirit Core Testing Ground.
It was the most important day for every fifteen-year-old in the city. Today they would discover their destiny. Those born with a spiritual core could absorb the energy of heaven and earth, train as cultivators, and maybe one day reach immortality. Those born without a core would remain ordinary for the rest of their lives. Some people even said being born without one was worse than death.
Among the crowd walked a young man dressed in simple gray clothes. His name was Jian Wu. His appearance was plain, his clothes a little worn, and compared to the other children dressed in clean robes, he looked like he did not belong there at all.
People whispered as he passed.
"That's the carpenter's son, right?" one woman said softly.
"Yes. Poor boy. I doubt he has a core."
"Ha, if he does, I'll eat my shoes," another laughed.
Jian Wu heard them all. He kept walking, eyes straight ahead. The noise around him faded into a dull hum. He had heard the same things his whole life. It no longer hurt, but it still left a small crack inside his chest every time.
At the edge of the testing ground, his parents stood together. His mother's hands trembled as she clutched her shawl. His father stood tall and silent, face cold and unreadable. Jian Wu knew they were both praying for the same thing, even if they would never say it aloud.
An elder from a local sect stood on the stage, wearing crimson robes that shimmered in the sunlight. In his hand, he held a large crystal orb glowing faintly from within. His voice echoed across the square.
"Children of Qi Yue," he said, "today you will be tested. Place your hand on this crystal and let your spirit core reveal itself. Those who possess one will step onto the path of cultivation. Those who do not…"
He paused. The crowd did not need him to finish. Everyone knew what no core meant.
One by one, the children were called. Each stepped forward and placed a trembling hand on the crystal. Light flared, some bright as the sun, some faint and dull. Every flash of light brought cheers or tears. Parents clapped and shouted proudly, while others left in silence, carrying disappointment heavy on their shoulders.
After what felt like hours, the elder called the next name.
"Number seventeen, Jian Wu."
A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd.
"Oh, it's that poor kid."
"This will be fun."
"He'll make the crystal darker than before."
Jian Wu stepped forward slowly. His heart pounded against his ribs. He could feel dozens of eyes watching him, waiting for him to fail. When he stood in front of the crystal, his reflection stared back at him, small and nervous.
He took a deep breath. This is it. I have to prove them wrong.
He reached out and pressed his palm against the crystal.
For a moment, it flickered faintly. Then the light died completely. The orb turned dark and still.
Silence filled the square. Then the laughter started again, louder than before.
"Empty!" someone shouted.
"He has no core!"
"Not even a spark!"
Jian Wu's mother covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. His father lowered his head, his shoulders heavy with shame.
The elder sighed and looked at him with pity.
"Jian Wu," he said, his voice flat, "you were born without a spiritual core. From this day forward, your path is closed. You can never become a cultivator."
The words fell like stones. Jian Wu stood still. His vision blurred, his ears rang. The world around him seemed to fade away. For a moment, he could not feel his hands or feet.
Then, slowly, a small smile appeared on his lips. It was faint, but real.
"No core?" he murmured. "No path?"
He raised his eyes to the sky, the morning sun burning above the city. "If there is no path for me," he said quietly, "then I will make my own."
People stared at him, confused. Some mocked him, others just looked away. To them, he was finished, a failure, another nameless boy forgotten by the world.
But somewhere deep beneath the ground, far beyond the reach of mortal senses, something stirred. A faint pulse answered his words. The air trembled for a heartbeat, then stilled again.
No one noticed it. Not even Jian Wu. But that was the first moment the heavens turned their eyes toward him.
That day, he was labeled trash.
That day, his name became a joke whispered in the alleys of Qi Yue.
Yet that same day, a new path was born.
It was not a path given by the heavens, nor one blessed by fate. It was a path carved from defiance and pain. A road for those who had nothing left to lose.
And somewhere deep inside Jian Wu's chest, where others carried a glowing core, there was only emptiness. Yet within that emptiness, something faint began to move. Like a spark trying to breathe in the dark.
He did not notice it. Not yet. But one day, that emptiness would shake the heavens themselves.
For now, he walked away from the testing ground in silence. The laughter behind him echoed in the wind, fading as he stepped out of the square. His mother tried to call out to him, but her voice broke. His father said nothing.
Jian Wu did not turn back. He kept walking.
His steps were steady. His eyes calm.
Everyone thought he was broken.
But deep inside, Jian Wu felt something different.
A strange sense of calm.
The kind that only comes when a person stops being afraid of what the world thinks.
If there was no path for him, he would walk through the wilderness.
If the heavens closed their doors, he would break through the walls.
The morning sun rose higher, spilling its light over the city.
The boy without a core disappeared into the crowd, carrying nothing but his empty hands and a stubborn fire in his heart.
And though no one could see it, his shadow stretched longer than anyone else's that day.