The third month in Qingyang brought the first stirrings of warmth, yet it could not chase away the sharp chill lingering over the Lin Clan's Martial Arts Arena.
At the center of the stone-paved arena, dozens of young men in cyan tight-fitting robes focused on their cultivation. The faint sound of spiritual energy being drawn into their bodies rose and fell in waves, and a soft glow of spiritual energy surrounded them, drawing approving nods from the clan elders watching nearby. These were the direct descendants of the Lin Clan's main family—each with a pure spiritual root, outstanding talent, the future hope of Qingyang City's cultivation world, and the very foundation of the Lin Clan's standing in the city.
In the farthest corner of the arena, a world apart from the lively scene, a young man in faded, coarse cloth clothes squatted on the ground, carefully polishing the discarded weapons. Around fifteen or sixteen years old, he had a delicate and handsome face, yet his eyes held a sense of restraint and weariness far beyond his years. This was Lin Yan, a youth from the Lin Clan's collateral branch.
"Hmph, look at that trash. He can't even draw Qi into his body, yet he still dares to stay in the Martial Arts Arena. He's a disgrace to our Lin Clan."
"Exactly. His spiritual root is a muddled mess—four elements, yet he masters none. Plain and simple, he's a waste. If his parents hadn't left behind some minor property back then, the clan would have kicked him out long ago."
Harsh, cutting remarks drifted from the group of main-clan disciples, laced with undisguised mockery and bullying. Lin Yan's hand tightened around his cleaning cloth, his knuckles turning white, and his ears reddening. Yet he did not look up, only polishing faster. He had endured such taunts for five long years—ever since his parents had died, he had been taken into the Lin Clan's main residence, only to be found to have a chaotic spiritual root, unfit for cultivation.
His parents had once been cultivators of the Lin Clan. Though not top-tier experts, they had reached the Foundation Establishment realm. But five years ago, during an expedition to a secret realm, they had perished. All they left behind was Lin Yan, a shabby house in the corner of the Lin Clan's old residence, and a black jade pendant he wore close to his chest, never taking it off. On their deathbeds, they had told him to protect the pendant at all costs and never show it to others.
Out of respect for his parents' minor contributions to the clan, the main Lin family had not cast him out entirely—but they had never treated him as one of their own, either. They only gave him menial chores to scrape by. And his muddled spiritual root, unable to draw in spiritual energy, had turned him into a laughingstock for the entire Lin Clan, even for all of Qingyang City.
In the path of immortality cultivation, the spiritual root was the foundation. Spiritual roots were divided into five elements: Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. A pure single-element root was peerless; dual-element roots came second; triple-element roots were already mediocre. Four or even five-element roots, however, were known as chaotic spiritual roots—spiritual energy could not gather within them, and one could never draw Qi into their body in a lifetime, let alone reach Foundation Establishment or Golden Core. Such people could only live as mortals, struggling to survive in the cultivation world.
Lin Yan possessed a four-element chaotic spiritual root. Five years ago, when the clan elders had tested his roots, the dim, lifeless glow of his spiritual root had remained a joke among the disciples to this day. Over the years, he had not stopped trying to cultivate. He had secretly studied the clan's most basic Art of Drawing Qi, practicing day after day, yet he could never draw the spiritual energy of heaven and earth into his body. In time, even he had nearly given up.
"Hey, trash! Over here!"
A sharp shout cut through his thoughts. A tall, sturdy young man swaggered over with two lackeys in tow. This was Lin Hao, one of the main-clan disciples. With a triple-element spiritual root, he had already succeeded in drawing Qi into his body—and he took special pleasure in bullying Lin Yan.
Lin Yan paused his work and slowly lifted his head, his tone calm. "What is it?"
"What is it?" Lin Hao scoffed. He lifted his foot and kicked the clean longsword Lin Yan had just polished to the ground. The sword clanged sharply against the bluestone. "This young master is tired from cultivating. Go fetch me a pot of water. If you're slow, I'll break your legs!"
The two lackeys beside him jeered. "Hurry up! How dare you ignore Young Master Lin Hao?"
Lin Yan's eyes darkened. He bent to pick up the sword, his fingers brushing the scratch on its blade. Humiliation and resentment surged within him like a tidal wave. He knew he was no match for Lin Hao; resistance would only bring harsher bullying. Over the years, he had learned to endure, to survive in the cracks.
"Very well," he whispered. He set down the sword and turned toward the tea house at the edge of the arena.
Watching Lin Yan's lonely back, Lin Hao grinned triumphantly and said to his followers, "See? That waste has no backbone at all. He won't fight back, won't talk back. How boring."
"Young Master Hao is mighty! That trash is only fit to fetch water and run errands for you."
The mocking words came again. Lin Yan's steps faltered for a moment. He clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood, yet he did not turn back. He told himself silently: one day, he would no longer suffer such humiliation. One day, he would uncover the truth behind his parents' deaths. One day, he would cast off the label of "trash."
Inside the tea house, Lin Yan filled a pot with hot water and turned back. Passing the old Lin residence, he glanced instinctively at his shabby little house—his only safe haven, the place where he guarded his parents' relics. Against his chest, the black jade pendant pressed against his skin, sending out a faint warmth, as if comforting him wordlessly.
What he did not know was that this seemingly ordinary pendant hid a secret powerful enough to overturn the Three Realms. What he knew even less was that beneath the chaotic spiritual root the world scorned as worthless lay a sleeping power capable of shaking heaven and earth.
Returning to the arena, Lin Hao took the kettle, only to deliberately tilt his hand. Scalding hot water splashed all over Lin Yan, burning his skin red and sending stabs of pain through him.
"Whoops, my apologies. Slippery hands," Lin Hao said in mock regret, his eyes full of mockery. "But it doesn't matter. You're a waste anyway. A little burn won't hurt—consider it a wake-up call to know your place."
Lin Yan was soaked through. The stinging heat of the water spread from his skin to his heart, yet his gaze grew unusually firm. He lifted his head, staring straight at Lin Hao. There was no angry roar, only a calm yet powerful sentence.
"I, Lin Yan, will remember this humiliation today."
Lin Hao flinched at his gaze, then laughed scornfully. "Remember it all you want! What can a trash like you do to get revenge? It's nothing but a fool's dream! Let me tell you, Lin Yan—you'll be a waste your whole life, forever under my heel!"
With that, Lin Hao kicked Lin Yan to the ground, then left with his lackeys, leaving Lin Yan alone on the cold bluestone, soaked and miserable.
The sun set, casting golden light over the arena, its warmth slowly fading. Lin Yan slowly climbed to his feet, brushing dust and water from his clothes. The jade pendant on his chest remained warm. He stared in the direction Lin Hao had left, a flash of resolve in his eyes.
He refused to be a trash any longer. He refused to be bullied. He refused to bring shame to his departed parents. Even with a chaotic spiritual root, even with hope hanging by a thread, he would try once more—staking everything to find a chance to turn his fate around.
Night fell. Lin Yan returned to his shabby little house. He closed the door tightly and pulled the black jade pendant from his clothes. The pendant was pitch-black, its surface without a single pattern, yet it emitted a gentle warmth. He stroked it softly and murmured,
"Father, Mother… I will cultivate hard. No one will bully me anymore. I will find out the truth of what happened to you."
As the words left his mouth, the pendant suddenly trembled slightly. A faint warm current flowed out from within, spreading up his palm and slowly into his body. Lin Yan's heart jolted. He instinctively circulated the Art of Drawing Qi, which he had long since memorized to perfection—only to discover that the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was now gathering toward him on its own, slowly flooding into his meridians.
This… this was the sign of drawing Qi into his body?
Lin Yan's eyes widened, disbelief written all over his face. Five years. Five whole years. He had tried countless times, yet never once succeeded. But today, simply by touching the pendant, such a miracle had occurred.
He did not know that his defiant rise against the heavens was quietly beginning, starting with this mysterious pendant. And the peace of Qingyang City would be completely shattered—by a youth the world had written off as nothing but trash.