Chương 1: Happy Birthday

Born on a plane like any other. A plane in harmony with the Heavens and Wuxing. His Dao was Chaos. He drove the plane into the Outer Realms. And he did not stop. — He who calls himself Chi You, The Completed Works by He Shulin, foremost scholar of the Outer Realms Jianyi shivered, thinking of the piercing purple eyes hunting him. Whether he ran or hid, they never stopped. The familiar nightmare had woken him earlier, his body clammy from sweat.

He had given himself a few seconds to calm down, then he had grabbed his spear. There was no excuse not to train. Not even on the day of his trial. He went through a final kata in their tiny courtyard, barely large enough for him to stab a nonexistent opponent in the pre-dawn dark. For the longest time, he had thought the nightmares related to his father's death. He wasn't so sure anymore; it felt too... real. Had he not also had them before? It was hard to remember.

He did remember the day they had received word from the front. He opened the door, hoping a new customer might have found their way to his mother's tailoring shop. Instead, it was a messenger. Messengers never came all the way to their neighborhood. His mother looked up—time slowed down as he saw every emotion play out on her face, her eyes widening in surprise, then shock, wrinkles forming in despair. She quickly regained control of her expression, the goosebumps on his arms remained.

The messenger, he still remembered the purple sash on her robe, handed his mother a scroll with a bow. Jianyi had no memory of her leaving, she was just gone. His mother sat down and took a deep breath before slowly opening the scroll. She slapped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. He would never forget the sound of that slap; just thinking of it made him shiver. His body had locked up, but he knew what he had to do. He walked over to her… but could not bring himself to ask. She pulled him into a hug.

"Yi'er, your father, he is…" Jianyi swallowed. Discipline and dignity, their family motto, had come to life in the subsequent years, in his mother's constant sacrifice for him or his attempts to help where he could, accompanied by relentless practice. His father had died a hero, protecting his sect brothers and sisters from a flanking attack of some demonic beast. He had been 'carded'—a cultivator. Like a million others, he had died in the Celestial Confrontation. The others were abstract; his father was not.

Jianyi wanted to stop the demons. Revenge was not the driving force. Definitely not. How could you take revenge on a never-ending flood of demonic beasts streaming out of the Outer Realms? Defending the empire was his only motivating force. He was sure. He tightened the grip on his spear, knuckles white. The only possession he had left of his father. He shivered as he thought back to those purple eyes—maybe he had time for one more kata. A few minutes later, he was drenched in sweat.

The sun would soon rise, so he needed to run to the well, get some water before his mother woke, and wash up. He couldn't embarrass her by turning up to the trial sweaty and dirty. As he stepped into their small living space, which also featured his mother's bed, he found her waiting for him. A sticky rice cake and a red egg sat on their rickety table.

"Happy Birthday, Yi'er! Sixteen years. Not so little anymore," she pulled him in a tight hug.

"Maybe I shouldn't call you Yi'er anymore, Jianyi."

"Always Yi'er for you!" he said as he returned the hug. Looking at the rice cake, he knew they couldn't afford it; he also knew that there was no way to convince his mother of that. She had done everything to give him a childhood, despite his father's death and her family's misfortunes. Another reason to become a cultivator. It should afford him the opportunities to give her a better life. His mother rubbed his shoulder.

"You still want this so bad?" He started shaking his head, then nodded. She knew anyway.

"Oh, Yi'er. Hasn't this family given enough to the Demonic Tide? I know you want to follow in your father's footsteps, but you must forgive me for wishing a life as a mortal for you. I want to see you raising a family of your own, not dedicating your whole life to throwing cards at a never-ending flood of demonic beasts at the frontlines." She sighed, knowing that she would not convince him.

"You will get your wish, mother. Only one in a hundred succeeds in the trial." She cupped his face.

"That depends on your definition of success. In my view, ninety-nine out of a hundred succeed." He chuckled. They ate a few bites of the sticky rice cake, saving the rest for later. Then Jianyi ran off to get water from the well and got ready. He needed to be at the lord's palace one hour after sunrise. Shiqiu City was not a large place by any means—what were a few million in an empire of billions—but it would still take him forty-five minutes to walk to the city center.

Before he left, he bowed once more to his spear, asking for success in the trial, gave his mother a hug, and closed the door to their small home resolutely. He paused briefly at their neighbor's house to scratch their small dog's head as he usually did in the morning. The city was bustling with activity.

Vendors on the street selling heavenly-smelling breakfast on convenient wooden sticks, apprentices on their way to their masters, and even a few disciples in dark blue robes, signifying their membership in the Fivefold Spear Sect, treated with reverence. Closing in on the city lord's palace, where the trial would be conducted on behalf of the Empire, his heart beat faster. A single trial, a few minutes—that would determine his whole life. How was one not supposed to be nervous?

It would be different if he could fight it out with his spear—he had won the last three competitions in school, after all—but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. A few dozen teenagers had already found their way to the side gate that the trial participants were supposed to assemble at. The nervous tension was palpable. Of course, he knew what to expect. From age fourteen, every school day started with the same saying: Will shapes, Soul bridges, Wuxing infuses, Spirit welcomes.

Using his will to turn his soul into a conduit that would connect to the elements, and utilizing the qi flowing through it to form a core card in his spirit sounded… abstract. Nonetheless, he had practiced the visualization exercises faithfully. Apparently, one of the key challenges was corralling enough of the thin mist that represented the soul into a useful conduit. Jianyi struggled to imagine it. But he would see it for himself. Soon.

In the last few minutes, the crowd had swelled to about ninety teenagers, their excited chatter adding to the ever-present background noise of the city. Jianyi stood to the side; he didn't know anybody here. Between his training, school, and helping his mother with her small tailoring business, there hadn't been much time to foster friendships. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It was time, the gate opened.

Jianyi was in the first third of trialists entering the palace. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and was pushed back as a boy, almost as broad-shouldered as he, pulled him backward.

"Make way, peasant." The youth wore a fine silk outfit, clearly inspired by the sect members' clothes, but the short robe was distinct enough in shape and color not to draw their ire. His unblemished face was framed by long, open hair. For a brief moment, anger flared in Jianyi's stomach. He did not shy away from standing up to others when it mattered, but a confrontation with a rich merchant or noble family was typically not worth it—you had to pick your battles.

Two guards led the way through wide, white-walled corridors to a large room that could easily hold a few hundred people. On a dais at the back of the room stood a middle-aged man with the relatively short hair that wealthy mortal men in the city favored these days. He wore expensive silk garments, somewhere between the elaborate outfits nobles would wear and the more understated robes of rich merchants, over his extended belly, and seemed disinterested as they filed in.

After the last trialist had found their place, he addressed them.

"My name is Administrator Deng Ronghua. It is my honor to oversee the trial today in the name of the Emperor and City Lord Wang." There was a disconnect between the gravity of his words and the bored, rote way in which he said them.

"Like all youths in the empire on their sixteenth birthday, you will be tested today. It is our sacred duty to identify those who will enter the sects and defend us against the Demons from the Outer Realms.

"Should you pass the trial, you will leave the room through the door on the right. Do not dawdle; the trial should not take more than two minutes.

"May you be fortunate enough to become a defender of the Empire." Despite the bored delivery, goosebumps ran up Jianyi's arms. The guards moved to form a line to the trial room before the administrator had even finished. Just as Deng left the dais and Jianyi turned away to join the line, he noticed something blurred… a man standing at the wall behind the administrator, whom he somehow had missed so far. He was tall, rail thin, but, despite his clearly advanced age, muscular.

He had long gray hair that flowed down over his back and was clean-shaven. He wore dark blue cultivation robes that looked simple but of the highest quality. His eyes, framed by faint lines, observed the room dispassionately. Jianyi was briefly intrigued, but the reality of his situation pulled him back as he noticed that only four others were ahead of him in the line. He heard a boy behind him speculating whether he would get a dual affinity, but he was quickly shot down by his friend.

"Do you still believe in fairy tales? Dual affinities are a myth!" Jianyi tried to ignore the soft murmuring around him. He had to stay focused to keep from embarrassing himself despite his heart beating faster and faster. Suddenly, he was first in line, and one of the guards motioned him forward. Without hesitation, he stepped through the door and stood in a room that felt small compared to the hall he had just left.

On the wall opposite the entrance hung a banner with the imperial five-clawed dragon, each claw holding one element. Symbols every child knew by heart: the green sprout of Wood, the red blazing Fire, the yellow dunes of Earth, the silvery sheen of a Metal coin, and the dark blue wave of Water. Otherwise, the room was empty, except for the plain, chest-high pillar that stood in the middle. It seemed to be made from granite, and on top was a clear crystal plate.

As Jianyi took tentative steps towards the pillar, he saw that under the crystal plate was a card—part of the masterfully created formation that facilitated the test. It was the first card he had ever seen up close—and it was an epic one! The card looked like he had always imagined them. It was rectangular green jade, not thicker than a few sheets of paper, and about as long as his palm and half as wide. Four thin golden lines denoted its rarity. On top, its name was engraved in characters.

Will-infused Soul-Spirit Bridge Technique Epic 4x Water Channel Target enters meditative trance allowing them to connect soul and spirit with their will Jianyi could have stared at the card forever, but he was aware of the warning not to delay. For his father, for his reven…, to defend the empire, he placed his hand on the pillar and focused. A blinding light erupted from the pillar, and Jianyi felt his consciousness abruptly being ripped out of his body.

As he slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the dense, gray mist around him. Surprisingly, despite it being dark and omnipresent, it didn't feel dangerous. It felt like… him. His soul! But. It was so different from what he expected. From what he had learned. He knew every word about the trial taught in school by heart. The soul mist was supposed to be thin, wispy. Not as dense as the cotton that his mother's supplier used to create cloth. It moved lazily around him.

Steered by something in his peripheral vision, he looked up—and had to steady himself. The infinite darkness of space above him. He had to consciously close his mouth. Never had he seen anything like it. This was probably what the texts had called 'the unfathomable endlessness of the Dao'. Like so many others of the teachings, it had felt abstract. But now, he knew that it was the perfect description. It was beyond anything he could understand. Below space, the Heavens.

Blue sky and angry clouds so large that Shiqiu City would be a speck in their vastness. While the power emanating from the Heavens was unimaginable—they governed life, death, and the virtues—somehow, they still paled compared to the Dao. They gave him the shivers looking at them, regardless. Then, deeply intertwined with the Heavens, yet still apart, Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water—in a cycle, chasing each other, connected with fine wisps. Wuxing.

He could feel the heat of the flame as it drew near, the sturdiness of earth. The metal made the hair on his arms stand up—it was sharp. Overwhelmed, he looked below him. A deep blue, crystal-clear lake. Not a single wave disrupting the calm surface. Finally, he understood. The lake was his spirit, his awareness. For the first time, the rhyme he had heard every day for the last two years made sense. Will shapes, Soul bridges, Wuxing infuses, Spirit welcomes. It was just the density of his soul-mist that felt… odd.

But still, now he knew what he had to do. Will shapes. He focused his will on the mist around him, trying to shape it into an arched bridge that could connect to Wuxing, to the elements. Nothing happened. He wondered whether he had misunderstood something, but decided to push harder. The mist shivered slightly, then continued on its slow, unworried path. This was not how it had been described at school. Instead of finding it hard to grasp a few wisps, he struggled to contain the ocean around him.

It, his own soul, did not want to be formed or controlled. Jianyi clenched his teeth. When others had played in the streets, he had trained with his spear. When others had made friends, he had done the visualization exercises; not a single day had he skipped them. He would not give up just because it was hard. He strained with all his might, with the same discipline that let him do one more kata after his body couldn't take it anymore, and slowly, very slowly, he felt movement in the mist.

Sweat glistened on his forehead, his muscles contracted, as if the projection of his body wanted to push, too. It was by far the most difficult thing he had ever done in the sixteen years of his life. But it worked, step by step, he got more and more of the mist under his control and slowly formed the contours of a bridge, one sweeping arch after another, reaching into the sky, forming a conduit. As the bridge rose into the sky, the five elements of Wuxing pulsed.

He felt it deep in his bones, a vibration, and sighed in relief; finally, things worked as they should. He had done his part; now Wuxing would determine which of its elements, if any, was the right one. The one he would connect to. The one that would form his core card. Hopefully. Nothing happened. Jianyi bit his lips. This was what he wanted. More than anything. He remembered the last time he had seen his father, showing him a technique and then gifting him his spear. It had been hours before he left for the war.

He just needed one element—any would do—to become a cultivator and follow in his footsteps. Wuxing pulsed again. There was still hope, despite this being different from what he had learned; a single pulse should do it. His bridge had almost reached the Heavens. Wuxing pulsed again, stronger. His teeth clicked together, his bones rattled. His soul-mist vibrated. A shiver on the surface of his spirit lake below. Maybe he had imagined it, though. Stillness.

Then, the elements accelerated their never-ending circle, faster and faster, until Wuxing surged onto his bridge, the conduit to his spirit. Jianyi struggled to see which element it was. The stream shimmered like a rainbow. It wasn't possible, but it seemed like it wasn't a single element. It was all of them! He couldn't breathe; this was not what was supposed to happen! The elemental flood wave condensed as it raced down the bridge.

The wave became a stream, became a river, became a rivulet, became a large, five-colored drop of energy, energy became reality, reality formed into a card. The Heavens above darkened. Thunderous clouds drifted in from afar. Something—what, he could not tell—made his spirit lake explode upward, grasping the card and pulling it down. Thunder roared above—the Heavens making their displeasure known in a way that he had heard in so many stories. A core card was supposed to be green jade. Just like any other card.

This was not the case here. The card he saw floating and slowly rotating under the completely placid surface of the lake was gleaming under the shifting light of Wuxing above. Its white, pearlescent finish reflected the colors like a polished crystal in the sun. It was thin, almost translucent, but also larger than what Jianyi had seen before. On the back was a golden circle, with each of the five elements of Wuxing displayed, chasing each other, shining brightly.

When he saw the text on the front, his breath caught, his brain froze.