The pale light of dawn crept through the gaps in the wooden window. A cold breeze rustled the torn cloth that hung in place of a curtain. Lin Hai opened his eyes slowly, his body aching from the hard floor he called a bed. His small, tattered house stood at the edge of the outer disciples' quarters, barely enough to shield him from the cold nights. With no parents, no relatives, and barely enough food to get through the day, this was the life he had always known.
He quietly washed his face with the morning dew collected in a cracked bowl, tightened the worn robes over his thin frame, and stepped out into the training ground. His day had begun like every other—simple, cold, and unnoticed.
As he walked toward the lecture hall, voices rang out behind him.
"There goes the trash disciple again."
"He's still not been expelled? What a waste of sect resources."
Lin Hai didn't respond. He had long learned that silence was safer than words. Among the outer disciples, he was a shadow—bullied, forgotten, underestimated. No elder paid him any attention. Their focus was always on the inner disciples or the talented ones blessed with noble bloodlines.
As he took his seat in the far corner, the instructor entered and began today's lecture on energy circulation techniques. Lin Hai listened with quiet concentration, but the teacher barely spared him a glance. His attention, as always, remained on the top disciples seated at the center of the hall.
But today… something would change.
As the class ended and students filed out, Wei Long, a proud and arrogant disciple with a reputation for picking on the weak, blocked Lin Hai's path.
"Hey, trash," he sneered. "Think you're too good for us now, always quiet and smug in the back?"
Lin Hai didn't reply.
"I challenge you to a duel in the outer arena. Unless, of course, you're too scared."
Laughter echoed around them. Students gathered, eyes gleaming with excitement. They loved nothing more than watching someone humiliate the weakest among them.
Lin Hai's fists tightened. He didn't want to fight… but walking away now would only make things worse. Swallowing his fear, he nodded.
"I accept."
---
The stone arena was alive with whispers and snickering as the duel began. Wei Long stood confidently, smirking, while Lin Hai kept a defensive stance, heart pounding in his chest.
"Let's end this quickly," Wei Long said arrogantly, and with a flash, he charged.
But something strange happened.
As Wei Long attacked, Lin Hai's eyes followed every movement clearly. His opponent's footwork, the direction of his palm, the energy surge—it was all visible to him. As if time had slowed. For the first time in his life, Lin Hai felt… free.
He moved instinctively, dodging a sweeping leg and parrying a strike to the chest. Gasps echoed around the arena.
"What?"
"He actually blocked it?"
Lin Hai wasn't just surviving—he was starting to counterattack. A palm strike to the ribs, a knee to the side—nothing major, but enough to throw Wei Long off balance.
But then, Wei Long landed a simple punch to Lin Hai's stomach.
Pain erupted.
It wasn't normal. It was ten times worse—a white-hot spear driving through his body. Lin Hai staggered back, almost falling.
Something in him snapped.
Rage.
The buried humiliation, the years of silent suffering, the hunger, the loneliness—everything exploded at once. Lin Hai's eyes blazed, and without thinking, he struck.
A single blow. A strike not from technique, but from pure will.
Wei Long was sent crashing across the stage.
And then—boom!
The air around Lin Hai shimmered, his aura surged, and a wave of qi burst from his body. The crowd gasped. Teachers and disciples stared, wide-eyed.
Lin Hai stood amidst the swirling dust, breathing heavily.
He had broken through.
From the low rank… to the Middle Rank of Qi Gathering Stage—right there, in the arena.
Silence fell. Then murmurs began. Not of ridicule—but of awe.
For the first time, Lin Hai wasn't just the invisible disciple in the back.
He was something more.
A spark had been lit.
And the fire had only just begun to burn
But even as applause began, Lin Hai's eyes were distant.
What… just happened?
His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. His heart thundered in his chest.
"I… I broke through?"
Without another word, he turned and ran—past the stunned disciples, past the silent elders—his feet carrying him toward the Main Hall.
There, standing untouched for centuries, was an ancient mirror—the Mirror of Insight. Once used to measure the potential and paths of disciples, it had long been forgotten by the elite, who thought only bloodline mattered.
Lin Hai stood before it, sweat pouring down his face, body still trembling.
He hesitated, then placed his hand on the frame.
The mirror remained still for a breath, then the surface shimmered. Symbols flickered. Lines of light raced through the surface… and then—
BOOM!
The hall shook faintly. The mirror glowed—not dull and ordinary like it had for others—but vivid, fiery red, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Then it showed something no one had ever seen in recent memory.
A bound chain surrounded by stars. A silhouette walking through endless flame. A dormant eye, beginning to open.
Lin Hai stumbled back.
"What… is this?"
Something ancient… something forgotten… had taken notice.
And the mirror, for the first time in a thousand years, had whispered back.