The city was called Azure Sky, and it was the capital of the Azure Sky Kingdom. Right at its edge, pressed up against the massive, forest-covered slopes of the Great Mountain Zhou, stood a place everyone knew: The House of Seven Profundities.
It was the only school in the entire Azure Sky Kingdom run by a legendary martial clan from far away, the Septenary Vale. The Vale had over six hundred years of history, and their school here reflected that. It was huge, one of the biggest martial houses around. They had shelves full of ancient, powerful fighting techniques—legacy skills passed down for generations—and their teachers were real masters, not just ordinary fighters. For any kid in the kingdom who dreamed of becoming someone powerful, the House of Seven Profundities was the ultimate goal. It was a holy place.
But getting in was next to impossible. They only took the absolute best. You could say only one in a million qualified, and that probably wasn't far from the truth.
…
It was the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon. Deep in the woods on the lower slopes of Great Mountain Zhou, the air was thick, buzzing with insects. A teenage boy stood shirtless in a small clearing, facing a thick, rough-barked tree.
His name was Han Yi. He was fifteen, with the lean, wiry build of someone who worked hard. Both his fists were wrapped tightly in strips of faded cloth. He took a stance, breathed in, and then began.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The heavy, solid sounds of fists hitting wood echoed through the quiet forest. He didn't yell or shout; the only sounds were the impacts and his own ragged breathing. He threw punch after punch, methodically, against the same spot on the trunk. The bark there was already splintered and dented, worn down to the pale, grey wood underneath. Smears of red marked the surface where his knuckles, even through the cloth, had split open.
Sweat poured down his face and chest, soaking into the waistband of his trousers. His muscles burned, first with heat, then with a deep, trembling ache. His arms began to feel like they were made of stone, each lift heavier than the last. His legs shook from maintaining his stance.
Finally, with a grunt that was more air than voice, he stopped. His body just gave out. He stumbled back a step, then sank down to the forest floor. He sat with his legs straight out in front of him, too tired to bend them. He leaned back, propping himself up on his throbbing hands, and tilted his head up. Through the canopy of green leaves, he could see patches of the brilliant blue sky the city was named for. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.
"Fifteen years," he said quietly, to no one but himself and the trees.
Han Yi is fifteen years old now, but inside, he feels much older. That's because he remembers another life.
In that first life, he was only nineteen. He was an orphan, always alone. He was constantly worried—about having enough money, about what would happen tomorrow, about never really finding his place. He never figured out how to handle all that pressure. Then, it ended in a flash: a bright light, a blaring horn, screeching tires. A truck hit him. And then, nothing.
He doesn't feel sad about it. When he thinks back, that first life seems pale and thin, like an old photo left in the sun. No one relied on him. No one would truly grieve for him. It was a life that simply… ended. So when he woke up here as a baby, it felt more weird than heartbreaking.
Memories from that old world slowly surfaced as he grew up. Learning to talk in this new place, he'd sometimes understand a word or idea he already knew from before. He picked things up a little quicker. He saw everything with a kind of double sight—through the eyes of a child and the mind of someone older. This made him a quiet, watchful boy. He played with others, but a part of him always stayed separate, just observing.
And from an early age, he understood the most important rule of this new world: martial arts are everything. It's not just about fighting. It is the key to strength, respect, safety, and a good life. It's like science and art combined, a way to train your body and mind to achieve amazing things.
But there's a catch. You can't just choose this path. You must be born with a special gift for it. They call this gift Martial Talent. Without it, the door to that powerful life stays closed.
And in the Azure Sky Kingdom, the chance to become a martial artist wasn't fair or equal. It all depended on the gift you were born with.
First, half of all people had no Martial Talent at all. For them, it was like a door was permanently locked. They could never feel or gather the inner energy called qi. No matter how hard they trained their bodies, they could never cross into true martial arts. They lived ordinary lives.
The other half of people did have the talent. But for most of them, it wasn't much. About 80% of this group—so, 4 out of every 10 people in the kingdom—only had the lowest kind: Grade One Talent.
Having Grade One Talent was like having a key to a very heavy, rusty door. You could open it a crack. With training, you might become a bit stronger or quicker than a normal person. But the door would never swing open wide. You would hit a wall very early and could never become truly powerful. It was a path that led nowhere special.
So, what about the people who are a little luckier? A small group—about one out of every ten people who have any talent at all—are born with Grade Two Martial Talent.
Think of them as the "hard workers." This level of talent is a real step up. The door to power isn't just cracked open; they can actually step through it. If they dedicate their lives to training, pushing themselves like crazy every single day, they can achieve something real.
They can become skilled fighters. They could get a good job as a town guard, a caravan escort, or a low-ranking officer in the army. They earn more respect and security than most people.
But there's a twist. Their talent has a low ceiling. No matter how hard they work, they will eventually hit a limit that they cannot break through. Becoming a famous master, a legendary fighter, or someone powerful enough to lift their entire family to nobility? That dream is still out of reach. For someone with Grade Two Talent, true greatness is almost always impossible.
Han Yi had Grade Three Martial Talent. In the grand scheme of things, that was really good. High-class. If he was being boastful, he could say he was the cream of the crop, one of the lucky few. It meant his body was naturally efficient at gathering and using qi, that he could learn techniques faster and push his body further than most.But even with a Grade Three Talent, getting into the House of Seven Profundities was a huge, uncertain dream. Han Yi knew this. The competition wasn't just from his city, but from noble families across the kingdom, even from other kingdoms where the Septenary Vale's reputation was known. They would all be vying for a handful of spots.
That's why he had a backup plan.This plan involved his childhood friend, Lan Yunyao. They had met as children, and while Han Yi was unusually mature for his age, Lan Yunyao was a very sensible and reasonable girl. This shared outlook made them natural friends, understanding each other in a way others their age did not. Together, they had agreed to also take the entrance test for the Azure Sky Martial House.Lan Yunyao also had a Grade Three Talent. She was beautiful, smart, and just as determined as he was.
The Azure Sky Martial House was a good and solid institution. It was founded and run by the Azure Sky Kingdom itself to train its own loyal fighters and officers. For most people, getting in was a tremendous honor and a sure path to a respected career.
But when placed next to the House of Seven Profundities, the difference was not just one of quality, but of fundamental depth and history. It was the difference between a sturdy, reliable village well and a deep, mythical spring hidden in a sacred mountain.
The village well is man-made, practical, and serves its purpose. You can draw good, clean water from it every day. This was the Azure Sky Martial House. It had only existed for about eighty years—a mere blink in the span of history. Its collection of martial knowledge, what the martial world called its "legacy," was relatively new and limited. It contained functional, effective techniques that could train a competent martial artist.
The ancient spring, however, is a natural wonder. Its water comes from deep within the earth, filtered through stone for millennia, and is said to hold unique properties. This was the legacy of the Septenary Vale. It was not a collection of techniques, but a living, centuries-old river of wisdom. It contained profound, refined methods passed down and perfected over countless generations.
And in this world, that legacy was everything. A legacy wasn't just a fighting style. It was the precise, secret blueprint for advancement. It included:The exact methods to gather and purify qi most efficiently,the hidden formulas for potent medicines and elixirs to strengthen the body and the proven, safe paths to force the body and spirit to break through their natural barriers and reach higher states of power.
Without a top-tier legacy to guide you, a martial artist would hit a wall. They might train hard, but they would be guessing, walking in the dark, trying to invent a path that wiser people had already mapped out centuries before. The Azure Sky House's legacy could get someone decently far, but the ancient, profound legacy of the House of Seven Profundities was the key to unlocking truly legendary heights.
Han Yi's ultimate goal, like that of most martial artists, was to reach the Core Condensing Stage. That was the first major turning point. Before that, it was all Physical Training—building strength, speed, stamina, toughening the body. The Core Condensing Stage was different. It was where you truly began to refine your internal energy, to condense it into your core, to extend your lifespan far beyond the normal.
The ultimate dream for Han Yi, and indeed for almost every martial artist who dared to dream big, was to break through to the Core Condensing Stage. This was not just another step in training; it was the first true revolution, the great divide that separated ordinary fighters from those who walked the genuine path of cultivation.
Everything before this stage was known as Physical Training. This foundational phase was about the mortal body: building raw strength, honing speed, expanding stamina, and tempering the flesh and bones to be as tough as iron. It was essential, hard work, but it was ultimately limited by the body's natural lifespan and capabilities.
The Core Condensing Stage was something else entirely. It marked the moment a cultivator stopped merely using their body and began truly transforming their very essence. The focus shifted inward, to the refinement of qi, the internal energy. The cultivator learned to gather this scattered energy, purify it, and forcefully compress it within their lower abdomen, forming a solid, revolving core. This core became a perpetual furnace and reservoir of power, far surpassing the simple physical strength of the earlier stage.
And Reaching Core Condensation didn't just make you powerful; it also changed your entire social status. The kingdom granted you a title of nobility. It meant wealth, land, respect that lasted for generations. You could secure your family's future forever.
The fire that drove Han Yi forward in this new life was born from the quiet emptiness of his old one. Having known a brief existence marked by uncertainty and a sudden end, his heart now pulsed with a singular ambition for the martial way. For him, the pinnacle of cultivation represented more than just power—it was the promise of Immortality and Freedom. It was the absolute opposite of his first, fragile life: a boundless existence, free from the mundane worries of survival, free from the looming shadow of an untimely death. To reach the top was to achieve everything he could not have before.
This burning desire was precisely why the House of Seven Profundities called to him so powerfully. Its ancient legacy was the most direct and proven path to that ultimate dream. He knew that with his Grade Three Talent, he had a chance, but it was a slim one. He was prepared to compensate for any gap in innate genius with sheer, relentless effort, hoping his undeniable diligence and perseverance would shine through and impress the examiners enough to secure a spot.
However, the prospect of him entering was very low. Moreover, once he failed, he would have to waste half a year's time to wait for another opportunity. For martial artists, this amount of time is highly precious. Placing all this into consideration, in addition to the fact that he had promised Lan Yunyao, Han yi decided instead to enter Azure Sky Martial House.
Han Yi's decision was a careful one, made with the clear-eyed judgment of someone who had already lived one life. He understood that chasing an impossible dream could cost him everything, including the precious time he needed to build a real future. His promise to Lan Yunyao was the cornerstone of his practical plan, a pact that gave his ambition a companion and his path a shared direction. Their bond had deepened over years of training and companionship. Though both were still young and the formal idea of marriage had never been spoken aloud, a gentle, unspoken affection had quietly taken root between them, nurtured by trust and shared dreams.
Han Yi's parents had wholeheartedly embraced Lan Yunyao, their approval evident in their warm smiles and the regular invitations to family dinners. They saw in her - a potential daughter-in-law, a virtuous and capable partner for their son. This silent hope from his family—a family he cherished deeply in this second life—added weight to his promise. The connection between him and Lan Yunyao was like a thin, delicate paper screen, waiting only for the right moment to be gently parted as they grew older. Viewing this future seriously, Han Yi resolved to honor all of it: his parents' wishes, his own promise, and his personal ambition. Even if his path led through the Azure Sky Martial House and not the legendary Septenary Vale, he was determined to charge relentlessly toward the Core Condensing Stage.
Therefore, on the morning of the Azure Sky Martial House's entrance assessment, Han Yi arrived with a steady heart, ready to begin this new part of life. But Lan Yunyao was not there. At first, he assumed a simple delay—a family matter, an illness, a trivial obstruction. He waited, concern slowly gnawing at his resolve. The truth, when it finally reached him, was a brutal shock.
Lan Yunyao had not been delayed. She had chosen a different path entirely. She had entered the House of Seven Profundities. The dream they had mutually set aside as too risky, she had pursued alone. And the key to her success was not merely her Grade Three Talent, but the influence of Zhao Yunfeng, the celebrated genius and Young Master of Springbloom City's most powerful family. He had ensured her acceptance, securing her a spot in the very institution they had agreed to forsake.
With the weary clarity of someone who had seen the brutal reality of the world in not one life but two, Han Yi understood the transaction that had taken place with perfect, painful clarity. Zhao Yunfeng's act was not a whimsical favor or a simple romantic gesture; it was a strategic investment by a great family. For a powerhouse like the Zhao Family, selecting a future wife was a matter of legacy and bloodline. Beauty was a pleasant addition, but the core prerequisite was Martial Talent. A wife with high talent was seen as fertile ground, drastically increasing the odds of bearing children who would themselves be prodigies, thus strengthening the family's power for generations to come.
Lan Yunyao, with her Grade Three Talent, was precisely such a prized prospect. Among women, such a gift was exceptionally rare and valuable. Coupled with her renowned beauty and graceful temperament, she represented the ideal combination of genetic promise and social grace. It was only natural that a young master like Zhao Yunfeng would recognize her worth and seek to claim it.
From Lan Yunyao's perspective, Han Yi could see the irresistible pull of the choice she had made. The chasm between the Azure Sky Martial House and the House of Seven Profundities was not a gap—it was an abyss. The difference in the opportunities, the honor bestowed, the glory achieved, and the ultimate heights one could reach was beyo
nd comparison. But more than any of that, it was about the fundamental promise of life itself.