In the boundless sea of stars, two streaks of light clashed amid the endless heavens.
It was like a battle between living beings—no, it was a battle.
One beam blazed with a radiant golden hue, the other shimmered with brilliant violet. Their brilliance devoured the darkness of space, their collision echoing through the void.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Crack! Crack!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The sheer velocity of their impact and the terrifying power released shook the star-filled sky itself.
Stars shattered, worlds crumbled into dust.
For an instant, the two rays halted—face to face—as if engaged in a silent conversation.
No sound could be heard, but as moments passed, the dazzling brilliance between them flickered violently, revealing that whatever they had exchanged bore no resolution.
Shuuuuu ~~
Then the powers surrounding them surged, wild and unrestrained. The combined force was so immense that even the infinite heavens began to crack.
Space itself twisted and tore, rifts spreading without end. The nearby worlds were reduced to ash within the storm.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The two lights could no longer contain their strength. Their forms burst apart, scattering across the void.
From that collapse, the golden beam was drawn into a massive spatial fracture—a gateway born from the chaos of their destruction.
The golden light shot through the rift, racing across the vast cosmos.
Through that tear in space, it crossed into a distant star system—a world of blue and green, circling a quiet sun.
The golden brilliance descended, streaking toward the planet below.
And thus, the fate of an entire world began to change.
Year 2080, December 31st — Lingxu Base.
The morning sky stretched endlessly above, a canvas of pale blue brushed with streaks of gold. The rising sun peeked from the eastern horizon, bathing the quiet city in a gentle glow that felt both new and ancient.
At that hour — somewhere between 7:00 and 7:30 a.m. — the world still carried the calm of dawn.
A young man walked along the silent street, his footsteps echoing softly against the pavement. He was about 1.7 meters tall, with short black hair and eyes of deep golden hue, like liquid sunlight hidden behind a calm expression. There was something strange about those eyes — a quiet gleam that felt almost alive — though anyone who saw him would likely think it was just the reflection of the morning sun.
He wore a neat school uniform that fit him perfectly, neither too tight nor too loose, giving him a composed appearance — the kind of student who blended easily into the crowd, yet left a faint impression that was hard to define.
"So… tomorrow is the day, huh?" he murmured softly, his voice carrying the mix of excitement and unease that comes before a turning point in life.
After a few minutes, he arrived at the high school gate, a tall steel arch gleaming faintly in the morning light. Taking a slow breath, he looked up at the school — the place where countless dreams began and ended — and stepped inside.
Inside his classroom, he headed toward the back row and quietly sat down. Resting his head on the desk, he closed his eyes, exhaling softly before drifting into a brief nap, like someone trying to escape the weight of his own thoughts.
The classroom gradually filled with noise as students poured in, chatting and laughing as they took their seats. Desks shifted, chairs scraped, and the warm light of the rising sun spilled through the windows, turning the dust in the air into drifting flecks of gold.
Then — the door slid open.
A man stepped in, and the noise vanished instantly.
Teacher Lin Xian — short and broad-shouldered, wearing his usual dark coat over the school uniform — had a presence that silenced even the most talkative students. He wasn't particularly tall, just around one and a half meters, yet his aura felt heavy, like the quiet before a storm.
His expression was calm, but his sharp eyes glimmered with quiet authority. Beneath that, however, there was a trace of warmth — the kind only those who truly cared for their students possessed.
"Quiet," Lin Xian said in a low, steady voice. He didn't need to shout. The single word carried enough weight to command the entire room.
Feng Lei, who had been resting his head on the desk, jolted upright immediately, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The morning sun flashed across his golden irises — a brief flicker that no one seemed to notice.
"Feng Lei," Lin Xian called, his gaze landing on the boy.
"Yes, Teacher Lin," Feng Lei replied quickly, standing so fast that his chair scraped the floor.
"Sit," Lin Xian said with a nod, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.
Turning to face the class, he placed his hands behind his back and spoke in a calm but commanding tone.
"Today marks the final day of your high school life. The exams tomorrow will decide your paths — whether you continue with cultural education or take the first step toward martial education."
The students instantly straightened, the cheerful energy in the room fading into nervous anticipation.
"Hmm," Teacher Lin Xian began, his voice calm but edged with authority. "I know that every one of you dreams of becoming a martial artist. But dreams alone are not enough. Only those who possess true potential can walk that path."
His sharp eyes, which seemed to see through every layer of hesitation, swept across the room.
"From the two hundred and seventy-six students of last year," he continued, "only thirty-three were qualified to even attempt becoming martial artists. And among those, only ten percent truly succeeded."
His words were spoken softly, yet each one fell like a weight upon the students' hearts. Seeing that no one dared to speak, Lin Xian allowed a faint smile to touch his lips — not mocking, but quietly understanding.
The students had many questions in their minds, yet none of them spoke. It wasn't because they lacked respect — it was because they feared him, a fear born not from cruelty but from memory.
The truth was known only in whispers. Lin Xian had once been a martial artist, a man who carried strength capable of destroying walls and stopping bullets — but he had sworn never to use that power again.
He had promised himself that his martial strength would never again harm or intimidate another human being.
Yet, on his very first day at Lingxu High School, that promise had been broken.
A group of violent students had caused chaos — overturning desks, injuring others, and refusing to obey. Lin Xian had tried to stop them with words, but they hadn't listened. When one of them struck another student, something inside him snapped.
In that moment, he moved.
His speed was like lightning slicing through air — silent yet unstoppable. In the blink of an eye, the entire fight ended. No one was seriously hurt, but the sight of that power left everyone frozen in awe.
Later, the school board received complaints from officials, since the use of martial strength against civilians was strictly forbidden by law.
However, the principal, who understood Lin Xian's intentions, personally defended him. After that, the authorities decided that if a similar situation arose again, Lin Xian would be permitted to use his powers to protect the school.
Ever since that day, the students looked at him differently. They respected him as a man who had faced danger for their sake, yet feared him as someone who carried a sleeping storm within — quiet most of the time, but terrifying if ever awakened.
After a long silence, Lin Xian's stern expression eased. He looked across the classroom, his eyes resting briefly on each student — eyes that seemed to measure not only their strength but their hearts.
"All right," he said finally, his voice calm but steady, "if any of you have questions, raise your hands."
For a few seconds, no one moved. The students glanced at one another, unsure who would dare to speak first. Then, hesitantly, a few hands lifted into the air.
Lin Xian began to count, his tone as flat as still water. "One… two… three… four… five. Only five of you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What about the rest? No questions? Or are you simply afraid to ask?"
His words weren't sharp, but the weight behind them pressed on the room like the still air before a thunderstorm. No one dared to meet his gaze.
"Hmm," Lin Xian muttered under his breath. "I see. Then I'll pick one of you first."
His finger pointed toward a student sitting near the middle row — a thin boy who looked nervous yet determined, gripping his desk as if it could steady his courage.
"You there," Lin Xian said, his tone softening just slightly. "What's your question?"
The boy shot to his feet so quickly that his chair scraped across the floor. "T–Teacher Lin," he stammered, "I… I wanted to ask about the test tomorrow. What exactly is it? They say it's the test that decides whether we can start cultivating martial energy, right?"
His question hung in the air, trembling like the sound of a bowstring that had just been released.
Every head in the classroom turned toward Lin Xian. Even the sound of the wind outside seemed to fade, as if the world itself waited for his answer.
Lin Xian studied the boy for a moment before replying. His expression was calm, yet his eyes carried a depth that made everyone listen carefully, as if each word he spoke held a hidden weight.
"A good question," he said finally, his tone steady and clear. "The test tomorrow is called the Martial Aptitude Evaluation. It is the first step for anyone who wishes to walk the path of cultivation."
He turned toward the smart-board behind him and tapped its surface. A holographic image appeared — a glowing human figure surrounded by faint streams of light.
"Every person," Lin Xian continued, "has energy flowing inside them — the same force that keeps the world alive. We call it martial energy. But not everyone can awaken it."
His finger traced one of the glowing lines on the projection. "This test will measure your compatibility with martial energy, as well as the strength of your energy channels — the veins that carry power through your body. Those who fail will remain ordinary humans. Those who pass …"
He paused, his voice lowering slightly, like thunder rumbling in the distance. "Those who pass will have the right to train — the right to touch power that can change the world."
The students listened silently, their eyes wide with awe. The golden light from the projection reflected in their pupils, making them look like dreamers staring at distant stars.
Lin Xian looked around the classroom, his gaze settling briefly on Feng Lei, who sat quietly at the back. For a second, the teacher's eyes narrowed — as if he had sensed something faint, something hidden beneath that calm appearance.
But just as quickly, his expression returned to normal.
"Remember," Lin Xian said, his tone turning serious again, "this test doesn't just measure talent — it reveals character. Martial energy is alive in its own way. It responds to those whose hearts are steady enough to endure it."
His gaze swept across the room like a gust of wind moving through a forest. "You may think strength is glory," he added softly, "but strength without discipline is nothing more than destruction."
His words lingered in the air, heavy and sharp, carving silence into every corner of the classroom.
No one spoke. Not even the wind outside dared to interrupt.
"Hmm… next," Lin Xian said, scanning the room. Another hand rose from the right side of the class.
"Teacher Lin," the boy asked as he stood up, "this thing you call martial energy… where does it actually come from?"
Lin Xian's sharp eyes flickered with something unreadable. "That," he said after a short pause, "is something even I don't fully understand. But if you want to know more, you'll have to pass the test tomorrow. Only martial artists are allowed to learn its true origin."
The student nodded slowly. "Okay, Teacher Lin," he said before sitting down.
"Next," Lin Xian said again, pointing toward another raised hand near the middle row.
A curious voice followed. "Teacher Lin, earlier you mentioned the Era of Earth Destruction," the student said. "I've heard a few stories about it — my grandparents talked about it when I was younger. But when I searched online, I couldn't find any real information. What exactly was that era?"
From the back of the classroom, Feng Lei, who had been silent until then, lifted his head slightly. His golden eyes, which caught the faint morning light like polished metal, focused on Lin Xian as if trying to read his thoughts.
Lin Xian was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed softly. "The Era of Earth Destruction… hmm," he said. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you much about that. If you want to ask something else, I'll answer — but not that."
Feng Lei frowned slightly, his thoughts whispering inside his mind. He knows something. He definitely does.
Another student stood up suddenly. "Teacher Lin," he said, "why can't you tell us? If that event really happened, shouldn't we be allowed to know about it?"
Lin Xian's face hardened. "Because it's forbidden," he said, his voice low but firm, like steel scraping against stone. "The higher authorities created a law that restricts knowledge of that era. Ordinary people aren't allowed to know more than what's publicly recorded. And those who do know are forbidden from speaking about it."
His gaze swept slowly across the classroom, like a cold wind brushing through still water. "If anyone dares to reveal those secrets," he continued, "the punishment… is death."
A collective shiver passed through the students. Even the air seemed to grow heavier, pressing down like a weight none of them could see.
Another student hesitated, then asked softly, "But why, Teacher Lin? Why would the higher authorities make such a rule?"
Lin Xian looked at him, his eyes dark and distant. "Because fear," he said simply. "Fear is the reason. Whatever happened during that era still terrifies them."
He exhaled slowly, as though he'd already said more than he should have. "That's enough questions for today," he said, his voice returning to its usual calm. "If you want to know the rest, you'll have to pass the test. Only then will you have the right to learn what lies beyond the truth."
For a moment, he stood quietly, looking around at his students — their young faces full of uncertainty, excitement, and silent dreams.
Then, a faint smile crossed his lips — a rare warmth from a man who often hid behind strict words and heavy silence.
"I believe," he said softly, "that tomorrow will bring good fortune to all of you."
With those final words, Teacher Lin Xian turned toward the door and walked out, his steps calm and unhurried — leaving behind a classroom filled with hearts that beat faster than before, caught between fear and hope for the day to come.
After some time, when the clock's hour hand pointed to one and the minute hand to six,
Trriiiing ~~~
The sharp sound of the bell echoed through the halls — classes were finally over.
Feng Lei packed his books neatly into his bag and stepped out of the classroom. By the time he reached the school gate, the air was already buzzing with noise. Hundreds of students crowded the courtyard, their voices rising and falling like waves crashing against stone.
Everyone was talking about tomorrow's test — the test that would decide who was qualified to become a martial artist.
Every student wanted to be one. Yet everyone also knew the truth — only a few had the natural compatibility, the strength hidden in their blood, that allowed them to walk the martial path.
Because of that, most students were restless and anxious, their laughter forced and thin. But a few — including Feng Lei — remained calm, almost too calm. It was as if the result tomorrow didn't matter to them at all.
No one knew who among them truly had the potential to awaken martial energy. Tomorrow would reveal it.
Watching the nervous crowd, Feng Lei gave a small smirk. "Hmm… before I enter the Martial Academy," he muttered to himself, "I'd better get a pair of lens glasses. Otherwise, I'll never find a single friend there — not with these eyes."
His tone carried quiet confidence, the kind that belonged to someone who already believed he would pass the test.
As he walked through the gate, Feng Lei slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, the screen flickering to life with a soft glow.
"What should I read today?" he murmured. "I've already finished Swallowed Star, Renegade Immortal, and Lord of the Mysteries."
He scrolled lazily through his reading list. "Let's see… Swallowed Star 2: Origin Continent, Lord of Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability, A Regressor's Tale of Cultivation, and Reverend Insanity… I chose all four, but which one first?"
His lips curved upward. "Hmm… Ah! Let's read Swallowed Star 2. It only has around 450 chapters, right? I can finish it quickly — maybe even complete the whole series."
He tapped the screen, whispering the first words as he read. "Chapter 1 — 'In the dark and profound…'"
Feng Lei walked slowly along the street, eyes glued to his phone. The sunset stretched behind him like a curtain of gold, and the faint wind rustled the leaves at his feet.
"It's like these novels were written for people like me," he said softly, half smiling. "For people who are alone… people who have no one else."
The corners of his eyes softened. "When I read them, the emptiness doesn't feel so heavy. Their stories are beautiful — filled with dreams that reach beyond the sky."
He paused for a moment, gazing at the crimson clouds floating above the city. "I wonder what our world was like before the Era of Earth Destruction," he whispered. "To write stories like that, the people back then must have had incredible imagination."
His voice faded into the breeze, carried away like a memory that refused to die — leaving only curiosity burning quietly in his heart.
By the time Feng Lei reached the end of the street, he had already finished reading his novel.
Ahead stood a small two-story house surrounded by a narrow yard — a quiet place that seemed to breathe peace amid the city's metallic glow.
Looking at the house, Feng Lei smiled faintly. "We're not rich people," he murmured. "But at least we have a home — all thanks to my father's hard work."
His gaze lingered on the wooden house, which was small but beautifully crafted, its walls polished smooth and glowing faintly under the evening sun. "After lunch," he said softly, "I should visit Old Man Shi."
He walked up to the front door, his steps light on the wooden floorboards. "Mom, I'm home!" he called as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
A gentle voice came from the kitchen. "Xiao Lei, you're home already?"
A woman emerged from the kitchen — slender, with long black hair that shimmered like silk. Her height was nearly the same as Feng Lei's, and her face held a graceful beauty that time itself seemed reluctant to touch.
Her eyes were a soft brown, not the golden hue of her son's, and for a brief moment, the difference made her seem even more fragile — like a flower that had bloomed in shade instead of sunlight.
At first glance, one might have thought she was around twenty-five years old. Yet in truth, she was nearly forty, though not a single sign of age could be seen on her face or figure.
Feng Lei smiled warmly at her. "Mom, I'll take a quick shower first. You get lunch ready, okay? We can talk while we eat."
His voice carried the easy affection of a son who had never once taken his mother's care for granted.
With that, Feng Lei climbed the staircase, his footsteps soft against the wood, and entered the first room on the upper floor — his room, a small space filled with dreams that waited for tomorrow.
"Ah… all right, all right. Go take your shower quickly," his mother said with a soft laugh, turning back toward the kitchen.
Just then, the door of the room beside the staircase creaked open. Out stepped a young girl and a boy, both with faces so similar to Feng Lei's that they seemed like smaller reflections of him. The girl, her voice sweet and bright, called out first.
"Big Brother Lei! Big Brother Lei, you're home?"
"Yes, yes, he's home," their mother answered warmly. "Now, both of you go wash up — lunch will be ready soon. Your brother will join us after his shower."
Smiling, she disappeared back into the kitchen, her movements graceful and practised, like those of someone who had repeated this routine a thousand loving times.
A short while later, Feng Lei, now dressed in a black shirt and matching trousers, came out of his room and walked downstairs toward the kitchen.
The dining table was already set — bowls of rice, meat, and colourful vegetables arranged neatly, with steam rising in soft curls that filled the air with warmth.
Sitting around the table were his younger siblings — a lively pair of twins who shared the same curious spark in their eyes. When they saw him approach, both shouted at once, their voices overlapping in cheerful excitement.
"Big Brother Lei! Big Brother Lei!"
"Don't shout, don't shout," Feng Lei said with a laugh as he walked closer. "I'm here. Sit down, and I'll join you."
He pulled out a chair and sat down beside them, the faint creak of wood echoing softly in the cosy kitchen.
"Mom, come and sit too," Feng Lei called toward the kitchen.
"Just a moment," his mother replied gently. "I'll bring some water first."
"Okay, okay," Feng Lei said with a smile.
As he waited, his thoughts began to wander — thoughts that slowly painted a picture of his family.
My mother's name is Lan Yuerong, he thought to himself. I have two younger siblings — my brother Feng Zhenyu and my sister Feng Lianhua. Hmm… and Father… his name should be Feng Zeyan.
He stared down at the table, his smile fading slightly. It's been twelve years since Father left home.
His mother had once told him that his father's work required him to move to another base — a job that kept him far from home for years.
Just a few more years, Feng Lei thought, his golden eyes flickering with determination. Once I become strong enough, I'll bring Father back. For everything he sacrificed for us… I'll repay him tenfold.
His thoughts broke when he noticed his mother, Lan Yuerong, finally sitting down at the table. Her presence carried a warmth that felt like sunlight in winter — gentle, yet strong enough to chase away every shadow in his heart.
They began to eat together.
Halfway through the meal, Lan Yuerong glanced at her son and noticed the distant look in his eyes.
"Xiao Lei," she said softly, "you're thinking about the test tomorrow, aren't you?"
Feng Lei looked up, startled for a moment.
His mother smiled faintly, the corners of her lips trembling with quiet worry. "Don't think about it too much. Just do your best tomorrow. Whether you pass or fail, it doesn't matter — as long as you try your hardest."
Her words were gentle, but her eyes — those warm, motherly eyes that could see through every mask he wore — carried a love deeper than words could hold.
"No, no," Feng Lei said quickly, shaking his head with a small grin. "I'll definitely pass tomorrow… but thinking about it makes me a little nervous, that's all."
He finished his meal in a few quick bites, stood up from his chair, and walked toward the sink to wash his hands. The sound of running water filled the kitchen, blending with the faint hum of the evening air.
Just as he was about to leave, his mother's gentle voice stopped him.
"Xiao Lei," Lan Yuerong, his mother, called from behind. "You're going to meet Uncle Shi, aren't you? I've already prepared a small meal for him. Take it with you, okay?"
Feng Lei turned and smiled, the warmth in his eyes softening the usual confidence that burned there. "Alright, Mom," he said simply.
He stepped out of the kitchen, picked up the neatly wrapped parcel from the table — a small package wrapped in white cloth, tied carefully with a red string — and slipped on his shoes near the door.
For a moment, he stood still, glancing back at his home — the quiet little house that glowed softly under the fading orange light, filled with the scent of food and comfort.
"I'll be back soon," he whispered.
Then, with one last smile, Feng Lei pushed the door open and stepped outside. The evening breeze brushed against his face, cool and calm, like a mother's hand gently bidding him farewell