[Yuexi's POV]
The bucket of dirty mop water hit my face before I even heard her laugh.
I gasped, cold liquid dripping down my nose and into my mouth. It tasted like mud and shame. Around me, the servants in the courtyard froze, their brooms and rags going still.
"Oops." My stepsister Qingwan lowered her training sword, her perfect lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "My hand slipped. You should have moved faster, Yuexi."
I wiped my face with my wet sleeve, saying nothing. Speaking back only made things worse.
"But then again," Qingwan continued, loud enough for everyone to hear, "how could you move fast? You have no spiritual roots. No cultivation. No power at all." She swung her sword in a graceful arc, and wind rippled across the courtyard from the force. Showing off. "You're basically just... normal. Ordinary. Worthless."
The servants whispered to each other, not even trying to hide it anymore.
"Poor thing. Twenty years old and can't even light a candle with qi."
"I heard the testing stone didn't even glow when she touched it. Not even a flicker!"
"Why does Master Lin keep her around? She's not even real family—just some orphan he picked up."
Each word was a knife, but I kept my face blank. I'd learned that skill over eighteen years of living in this house. Never let them see it hurt.
I knelt down and picked up my scrub brush, ready to go back to cleaning the stone tiles. My knees ached from hours of work, and my hands were raw and red. But complaining meant no dinner.
"Yuexi!" Father's voice boomed across the courtyard like thunder.
My stomach dropped. Lin Bohai stood at the top of the steps, his expensive robes marking him as one of the wealthiest herb merchants in Qingzhou Province. His face was red with anger.
"Yes, Father?" I kept my eyes down.
"Look at this mess!" He gestured at the dirty water spreading across the clean tiles I'd just finished scrubbing. "Clumsy girl! Do you ever do anything right?"
"But she—" I started to say Qingwan threw the water, but his hand moved so fast I barely saw it.
The slap knocked me sideways. My cheek burned, and I tasted blood where my teeth cut my lip.
"Don't talk back!" he shouted. "Qingwan is a talented cultivator preparing for the sect tournament. You are a servant who can't even hold a bucket properly. Know your place!"
"Yes, Father." The words came out automatically, small and broken.
He turned to Qingwan, his angry face melting into a proud smile. "Come, daughter. Let's review your sword forms for tomorrow's tournament. The Heavenly Sword Sect will be watching, and I want them to see how brilliant you are."
Qingwan shot me one last triumphant look before following him inside, her silk dress swishing. The servants went back to work, pretending nothing happened. This was normal in the Lin household.
I stayed on my knees, cleaning up the mess that wasn't my fault.
Just breathe, I told myself. Survive today. That's all you have to do.
But the voice in the back of my head—the one that had been getting louder lately—whispered something different: How much longer will you let them treat you like this?
Hours later, after the last lamp was lit and every dish was washed, I finally escaped to my tiny room. It wasn't really a room—more like a storage closet with a thin mattress on the floor. But it was mine.
I peeled off my wet, dirty clothes and looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror. A bruise was blooming on my cheek. My dark hair hung limp and tangled. My honey-colored eyes looked tired and sad.
"You're nothing," I whispered to myself, repeating what I'd heard all day. "Worthless. No power. No future."
But my hand moved to my chest, pressing against my heart. There, deep inside where no one else could feel it, something pulsed. Warm. Alive. Hidden.
Energy.
I DID have spiritual roots. I knew I did. Something was blocking them, sealing them away, but they were there. I felt them every night when I was alone.
And tonight, I'd prove it again.
I waited until the mansion was silent. Until Father's snoring rumbled through the walls and Qingwan's room went dark. Then I opened my window and climbed out, my bare feet finding the familiar handholds on the wall.
The night air was cool and smelled like jasmine. I dropped into the garden and started running toward the forest at the edge of our property. This was my secret. Every night for the past two years, I'd been sneaking out to train.
The cave was a fifteen-minute run through the trees. I'd found it by accident when I was younger, and no one else knew it existed. Inside, I'd hidden a stolen cultivation manual—one I'd taken from Father's study. Basic techniques that any beginner could learn.
Except I wasn't supposed to be able to learn them. People with no spiritual roots couldn't cultivate at all.
But I could. Slowly. Weakly. But I could.
I lit the small candle I kept in the cave and opened the manual to the breathing technique page. Sitting cross-legged on the stone floor, I closed my eyes and focused on the energy inside my chest.
Breathe in. Pull the energy up. Breathe out. Push it through your body.
For ten minutes, nothing happened. Then, like always, I felt it—a tiny trickle of warmth moving through my veins. Growing stronger. My fingertips tingled.
I opened my eyes and held out my hand. In my palm, a small spark of light flickered. It was barely bigger than a firefly, and it only lasted three seconds before going out.
But it was real. It was power. It was proof that everyone was wrong about me.
A smile broke across my face—the first real smile I'd had in days.
Then I heard the scream.
It came from the direction of the village, high-pitched and terrified, cutting through the quiet night like a blade.
My blood went cold. I knew that sound.
Demons.
I grabbed my black mask from the corner of the cave—rough cloth that covered my nose and mouth—and tied it on. Then I ran toward the screaming, my heart pounding.
The village road was chaos. People were running everywhere, and in the middle of it all stood a creature from nightmares.
It was eight feet tall with gray skin and too many teeth. Its eyes glowed red, and black smoke leaked from its body. A demon beast. Not very strong by cultivation standards, but deadly to normal people.
And it was killing them.
A woman lay on the ground, bleeding. A man tried to fight with a farming tool and got thrown twenty feet. Children were crying.
Nobody was coming to help. The village was too small, too far from the sect. By the time cultivators arrived, everyone would be dead.
I should run. I should hide. I was just one girl with barely any power.
But my feet moved forward instead.
"Hey!" I shouted at the demon, my voice muffled by the mask. "Fight me instead!"
The creature's head snapped toward me, those red eyes locking on. It smiled, showing rows of needle-sharp teeth.
Then it charged.
And I realized I might have made a terrible mistake.