In the current age, cultivation was no longer mysterious.
Talent was measured.
Resources were priced.
And strength decided everything.
At the outer courtyard of Qinghe City's Spirit Academy, hundreds of students stood in lines as a glowing stone measured their cultivation foundations. Every result appeared instantly on the public screen.
Most were unremarkable.
Some were promising.
A few caused quiet admiration.
When Chen Yuan placed his hand on the stone, it glowed steadily—neither dim nor radiant.
Cultivation Stage: Body Tempering, Sixth Layer
Foundation Grade: Lower-Middle
Evaluation: Acceptable
Murmurs spread.
"Sixth layer at seventeen? Barely decent."
"He won't fall behind, but he'll never rise."
"A background cultivator, at best."
Chen Yuan withdrew his hand calmly. He had expected nothing else.
In Qinghe Academy, lower-middle talent was the most useless position.
Too strong to be pitied.
Too weak to be respected.
Perfect to be stepped on.
He did not seek trouble.
Trouble found him anyway.
As Chen Yuan crossed the outer courtyard, three figures blocked his path. Their robes were clean, their spirit pressure sharp, their expressions openly contemptuous.
At the center stood Zhao Ming, Body Tempering Eighth Layer, nephew of an inner-court elder.
Behind him, Sun Hao and Wei Liang, both Seventh Layer, smiling like dogs that knew their master would protect them.
Zhao Ming looked Chen Yuan up and down, then laughed.
"Sixth Layer again?" he said loudly. "You've been stuck there for almost a year, haven't you?"
Chen Yuan said nothing.
Silence only encouraged them.
Sun Hao stepped forward and shoved him hard in the chest. Chen Yuan stumbled back, barely keeping his balance.
"Don't block the road if you're useless," Sun Hao sneered.
Wei Liang added, "Someone like you should kneel when inner disciples pass. Didn't your dead father teach you manners?"
That crossed the line.
The courtyard went quiet.
Chen Yuan's fingers tightened—but he did not strike back.
He knew the rules.
If he attacked first, he would be punished.
If they attacked him, it would be called "disciplinary correction."
Zhao Ming smiled coldly.
"That look," he said. "You want to fight? Go on. I'll cripple you and say you slipped during training."
He leaned closer and whispered, "No one will care."
Chen Yuan lowered his gaze.
And endured.
That night, in his narrow dorm room, Chen Yuan sat cross-legged on his bed, breathing slowly.
Pain still lingered in his ribs.
Humiliation weighed heavier.
"I train every day," he murmured. "I follow every method. I don't waste resources. I don't cause trouble."
Yet he was still prey.
As frustration reached its peak, something shifted.
A gentle warmth bloomed in his chest.
Not violent.
Not overwhelming.
Reassuring.
A soft blue interface unfolded before his eyes.
Cultivation Assistance System Activated
Host: Chen Yuan
Status: Stable
Evaluation: Effort Recognized
Chen Yuan froze.
He did not panic.
He simply stared.
You have met the minimum conditions
—Adequate foundation
—Consistent effort
—Mental resilience under pressure
Beginner Gift Issued
A glow enveloped his body.
His breathing technique refined itself. His muscles aligned more efficiently. Impurities he had struggled for months to expel were quietly dissolved.
No pain.
No backlash.
Only clarity.
Cultivation Stage Increased
Body Tempering: Sixth → Seventh Layer
Chen Yuan opened his eyes slowly.
He clenched his fist.
Strength answered—clean, obedient, unmistakably stronger.
The system continued.
Note:
Advancement will be smooth under normal conditions.
High-grade rewards require calculated risk.
Your body and mind must occasionally face danger to unlock greater potential.
Chen Yuan exhaled.
He was not ecstatic.
He was focused.
"So… I don't have to suffer endlessly," he said softly. "But I can't be lazy either."
The system pulsed, almost approvingly.
The next morning, Zhao Ming blocked his path again.
"Still alive?" Zhao Ming scoffed. "I thought you'd quit."
Chen Yuan met his gaze.
This time, he did not look away.
Zhao Ming frowned.
Something felt… off.
Not fear.
But certainty.
Chen Yuan stepped forward calmly.
"One day," he said evenly, "you will regret knowing my name."
Zhao Ming laughed loudly.
But when Chen Yuan walked past him, his shadow felt heavier than it should have.
And somewhere beyond Qinghe Academy, fate quietly adjusted its trajectory.