Wang Yan woke before dawn.
The house was silent, wrapped in the faint chill that lingered before sunrise. He moved carefully, dressing without sound, his actions practiced and efficient. He packed exactly what Wang Lan had instructed—no more, no less.
Two sets of clothes, Dried rations, A waterskin,
The wooden sword he had trained with for two years, wrapped neatly in cloth.
And finally, the thin parchment stamped with the seal of the Spirit Hall.
The certificate.
When he stepped outside, Wang Lan was already waiting.
A simple carriage stood on the dirt road. The horse was old, its coat dull, but its stance steady and patient. White mist escaped its nostrils with every breath.
"Get on," Wang Lan said, his voice low and firm.
"Yes," Wang Yan replied.
They left Gray Stone Village without ceremony.
The fields lay quiet, frost clinging to the edges of weeds and stone fences. Wang Yan looked back only once, committing the familiar outline of his home to memory. Then he turned his gaze forward, fixing it on the road ahead.
The journey took most of the day.
The dirt path gradually widened, rough tracks giving way to maintained roadways. Along the way, they passed traders pulling carts, small caravans escorted by armed guards, and travelers wearing armor dulled by use rather than polish.
By afternoon, stone walls appeared on the horizon.
Tall. Solid. Reinforced with watchtowers.
Unlike any village Wang Yan had known.
"That is Green Pearl City," Wang Lan said.
Wang Yan studied it carefully. The city felt dense even from afar—movement layered over movement.
At the gates, merchants shouted prices. Guards in standard armor stood watch, posture disciplined, eyes alert.
As they entered, sound swallowed him.
Footsteps. Voices. Metal striking metal. The compressed noise of countless lives moving together.
Green Pearl City was not grand like the capital, but it was vast compared to anything Wang Yan had known.
After a short ride, the carriage stopped before a stone complex enclosed by low walls.
A plaque hung above the entrance:
Green Pearl Junior Soul Master Academy
Students gathered nearby. Some were accompanied by parents. Others stood alone, confidence written plainly in their posture.
Wang Yan stepped down.
"This is where I stop," Wang Lan said.
Wang Yan turned toward him.
Wang Lan reached into his sleeve and placed a small pouch into Wang Yan's hand.
"This is emergency money," he said evenly. "Do not spend it casually. Use it only if you truly have no other choice."
"I understand," Wang Yan replied, closing his fingers around it.
"You will train harder than ever," Wang Lan continued. "That does not give you permission to mistreat your body. Eat properly. A spirit master who neglects food weakens faster than one with low soul power."
"I won't skip meals."
"Good."
"Sleep when you must. Recovery is not laziness. A sword used without rest will crack."
"Yes, Grandfather."
Wang Lan studied him quietly.
"You have never been talkative," he said slowly. "But you observe. In the academy, there will be children louder than you, faster than you, born with higher soul power."
Wang Yan listened.
"Do not compete with pride," Wang Lan continued. "Compete with time. Endurance outlasts arrogance."
"I will remember."
"You are innate soul power level three," Wang Lan said plainly. "Your road will be longer."
"Then I will walk longer," Wang Yan replied.
For a brief moment, Wang Lan's gaze softened.
He turned, then paused.
"Yan."
"If you are injured," Wang Lan said carefully, "do not pretend you are fine. Surviving is more important than pride."
"I understand."
"If the road becomes unbearable," he added, "this house will still exist."
Wang Yan bowed deeply.
"I will return stronger."
Wang Lan mounted the carriage and left without looking back.
Wang Yan watched until the old man disappeared into the crowd. Only then did he turn toward the academy gates.
Inside, registration was efficient.
A staff member glanced at his certificate, marked a ledger, and pointed down a stone path.
"Tool-type martial soul. Third courtyard. East dormitory."
Wang Yan thanked him and followed the directions.
The dormitory door creaked open.
"Oh? Someone finally arrived before night," a student said.
"I thought the last bed would stay empty," another replied.
"Sorry for arriving late," Wang Yan said calmly. "I traveled from Gray Stone Village since dawn."
"That explains it," a boy near the window said. "Village students usually arrive exhausted."
"Which courtyard?" someone asked.
"Third Courtyard," Wang Yan answered.
"Then you're in the right place," the boy said, standing. "This entire floor belongs to us."
"My name is Liu Ming," he said. "Martial soul: Spear. Innate soul power level four."
"My name is Wang Yan," Wang Yan replied. "Martial soul: Iron Sword. Innate soul power level three."
"That's respectable," Liu Ming said. "Especially from a remote area."
A boy hopped down from a bed.
"Don't stress," he said cheerfully. "Most of us aren't special."
"My name is Chen Yu. Martial soul: Wind Wolf. Innate soul power level four."
"That explains why you haven't stopped moving," Liu Ming commented.
From deeper inside, a calm voice spoke.
"My name is Zhao Qing. Martial soul: Lightning Beast. Innate soul power level three."
"Sounds fierce," Chen Yu said. "But you're calm."
"Lightning only strikes once," Zhao Qing replied. "Wasting strength before that is unnecessary."
Wang Yan placed his belongings neatly.
"You organize like a soldier," Liu Ming noted.
"My grandfather trained me that way," Wang Yan replied.
A bell rang outside.
"That's the evening bell," Liu Ming said. "Assembly soon."
"We should go together," Zhao Qing suggested. "Standing out early is unwise."
As they moved out, Chen Yu slowed beside Wang Yan.
"You should eat with us afterward," he said. "It's easier adapting together."
"I'd appreciate that," Wang Yan replied.
They joined the flow of students heading toward the courtyard.
The central courtyard was already crowded when they arrived.
Rows of students stood in loose formation while academy staff moved among them, calling out instructions and assigning temporary groups. A senior instructor spoke briefly from the steps, outlining basic rules—attendance, discipline, training hours. No speeches. No encouragement. Just expectations.
Wang Yan listened carefully, committing every word to memory.
After the assembly ended, the students dispersed toward the dining hall. The meal was simple—steamed grains, vegetables, thin soup—but warm and filling. Wang Yan ate quietly with the others, observing more than speaking, yet he no longer felt out of place.
When the final bell rang, they returned to the dormitory.
Lights dimmed. Conversations softened, then faded. One by one, students lay down, the long day finally catching up to them.
Wang Yan lay on his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling above.
The road behind him was already distant.
Tomorrow, he would wake in a new place.
A new morning awaited him.
End of Chapter.