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Hundreds of years ago, the Gu Yue Clan had crossed mountains and rivers, fleeing the turmoil of the Central Plains to settle in the remote wilderness of the South Border.
It was here, beneath Qing Mao Mountain, that they discovered a spirit spring hidden deep underground — a source of endless primeval stones. From that moment, their fate was sealed.
A village, a clan, a legacy — all built upon this single vein of heaven and earth's essence.
The group walked downward, step after echoing step. The light above faded into obscurity; in its place came the murmur of flowing water, low and eternal.
After turning a bend in the stone corridor, the space suddenly opened up before them.
A vast underground river flowed across their path. The rainbow shimmer of the stalactites was gone, replaced by the cold luminescence of the water itself — a river of stars flowing through the darkness.
Within the crystalline current, small fish flickered like shards of moonlight. Aquatic plants swayed in a musical rhythm.
The riverbed sand was fine as jade dust, each grain glimmering faintly.
Across the river lay a sea of flowers.
This was the Gu Yue Clan's treasured moon orchid field — carefully nurtured through generations.
The petals curved like crescent moons, glowing with pale blue and pink radiance. Their stems gleamed like carved jade, and from their centers shone a soft pearlescent light.
In the dark cavern, the flowers spread like a living ocean, a carpet of bluish-green silk studded with scattered pearls.
The air was filled with a faint fragrance — serene, dreamlike, and faintly intoxicating.
"Beautiful…" a youth breathed.
"So pretty!" another whispered, voice trembling.
The cavern reflected their awe. Eyes widened, hearts stirred — wonder and excitement flickered in their gazes.
Yet beneath that same light, Fang Yuan's eyes remained calm.
"Listen carefully," the elder's voice, deep and steady, cut through the hushed cavern.
"When your name is called, you will cross this river. Walk as far as you can."
"The further your steps, the greater your talent — the brighter your future. Do you all understand?"
"Understood!" the youths answered, their voices trembling with excitement and nervousness.
Of course they understood. Every child of the Gu Yue Clan grew up hearing tales of this day — the Awakening Ceremony that would determine their destiny. Some would step into the river and rise toward the heavens. Others would falter, forever shackled to mediocrity.
The elder unrolled a thin slip of bamboo, his cloudy eyes scanning the names."Gu Yue Chen Bo."
The first youth stepped forward. The river gleamed faintly under the cavern light, its glow brushing across his face.
He drew in a deep breath and stepped into the water.
The current only reached his knees, yet the moment his feet touched the riverbed, he felt it — a weight, invisible and immovable. It pressed against his chest, his limbs, his very soul. It was as though an unseen wall barred his way forward.
At his feet, the moon orchids began to shimmer, their petals shedding faint white light. The glow coiled around Chen Bo, threads of radiance sinking into his body.
For a heartbeat, the pressure loosened. His heart leapt.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward, each step heavier than the last.
One step.
Two steps.
Three.
The invisible wall surged again, harder and colder.
Chen Bo strained, but his body would no longer move. His strength drained away like water through sand.
On the riverbank, the elder's sigh echoed softly in the cavern. He lowered his brush and marked a line on the bamboo slip.
"Gu Yue Chen Bo — three steps. No potential to become a Gu Master."
The words struck with quiet finality.
The youths standing behind felt their hearts tighten. In the Gu Yue Clan, such a verdict was the same as exile.
The elder raised his eyes once more. His voice was calm, detached — like the toll of a bell in an ancient temple.
"Next, Gu Yue Zao Xie."
Chen Bo's face was ashen when he emerged from the river. His steps were unsteady, his eyes hollow.
The youth clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, yet the trembling of his shoulders betrayed him.
He hasn't awakened.
He has no talent.
He has... no future.
Should he still live that life?
He could still live, of course — as a mortal among cultivators, laboring in the lowest ranks of the clan. But that was not life; it was survival.
The dreams of glory he had carried for fifteen years were shattered in three short steps.
The other youths looked at him with mixed expressions — some with pity, others with indifference, a few with barely concealed relief that it wasn't them.
But soon, their gazes shifted, fixing on the next name the elder called.
Another youth entered the river. The same faint glow surrounded him, the same invisible pressure pushed back. He made it one step farther — four in total — before the invisible wall became absolute once more.
The elder's brush moved, another cold verdict written down.
Failure upon failure.
Not everyone was born to become a Gu Master.
In truth, only half of all mortals possessed even the seed of talent.
The Gu Yue Clan prided itself on a higher ratio — six in ten, thanks to the bloodline of their ancestor, the first patriarch.
A legend whose power had shaken mountains and rivers, whose descendants still carried traces of his strength.
Even so, blood thins over time. Heaven's favor cannot be inherited forever.
In the shadows, the elders' faces darkened. Whispers rippled through the darkness like wind through dry grass.
Even the clan head's brows furrowed slightly.
Then came the third name."Gu Yue Mo Bei."
A tall youth stepped forward.
His frame was broad, his presence vigorous. The linen robe he wore could not hide the confidence in his stride as the entered the river without hesitation.
Step by step he advanced — ten, twenty, thirty.
The faint blue light pulsed around him as white lights flowed into his body.
At last, his pace slowed.
The invisible pressure thickened like iron chains binding his limbs. He pushed forward three more times before the wall became unbreakable.
Thirty-six steps in total.
Silence fell.
Then a murmur spread through the youths like wildfire. Eyes widened, excitement flickered in their gazes.
"Excellent." The elder broke into a smile for the first time that day.
"Gu Yue Mo Bei — B-grade talent!"
He beckoned the youth over, his tone brimming with approval."Come. Let me examine your primeval sea."
Gu Yue Mo Bei returned to the elder's side, water dripping from his linen sleeves.
The academy elder placed a weathered hand upon the youth's shoulder, closing his eyes in silent concentration. Threads of primeval essence stirred faintly in the air.
After a moment, the elder withdrew his hand and gave a slow nod.
"Gu Yue Mo Bei — primeval sea, 66%."
"Strong foundation. Can be trained vigorously."
He recorded the result with deliberate strokes.
Talent?
What is Talent?
It's the measure of one's potential — the law by which heaven divides all beings.
In the Gu Yue Clan, the talent was simple. From D to A, four grades that separated mediocrity from brilliance.
A D-grade youth, given three years of cultivation, might barely reach rank one — a servant of the clan, a steady stone in its foundation.
A C-grade youth, with some luck and effort, could rise to rank two — reliable, the clan's middle strength.
But a B-grade… that was different. Carefully nurtured, protected, guided — such a person could grow into a clan elder, a rank three Gu Master within seven short years.
And A-grade — the rarest among the rarest. Even one such genius could alter the clan's destiny.
With ten years of growth, they could challenge the heavens, ascend to rank four, and grasp for the position of clan head itself.
To possess such talent was to be marked by fate; to lack it was to be forgotten by time.
The elder smiled, his eyes shining with satisfaction.
The heavy air in the cavern lightened; murmurs rippled through the shadows where the other elders watched.
Relief softened their expressions, and envy soon followed — all eyes turning toward one man.
In the darkness stood another horse-faced elder, Gu Yue Mo Chen. His chest swelled with pride, and the corners of his mouth curved upward. He turned toward the elder beside him, his long-time rival, Gu Yue Chi Lian, whose crimson hair glowed faintly under the cold blue light.
"Well?" Mo Chen said with a low chuckle.
"My grandson isn't bad, is he, Chi Lian?"
Gu Yue Chi Lian snorted, his eyes sharp as blades. The glow of the moon orchids reflected off his darkened expression.
An hour passed.
Half the youths had already crossed the glowing flower sea. Most displayed only C or D-grade talent; many had none at all.
The clan head stood watching, his voice heavy with time.
"No rank four masters have appeared in these past years to strengthen our bloodline, and the fourth generation clan head, the only one to reach rank five, perished alongside the Flower Wine Monk, leaving behind no heirs."
"The bloodline is thinning," he murmured, not to anyone in particular, his words more a statement of fact than complaint.
Then the academy elder's voice rang out once more, echoing through the cavern."Gu Yue Chi Chen!"
At that name, every elder turned. Their gazes fixed upon a short, pockmarked figure standing among them — Gu Yue Chi Lian. His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails bit into flesh.
Sweat beaded on his brow. His breathing quickened.
The youth, Chi Chen, stepped forward, determination burning faintly in his eyes. The light of the moon orchids flickered around him as he entered the water.
Step by step he advanced — ten, twenty, thirty.
The invisible pressure pressed down like a mountain, yet the glow within his body only grew brighter.
Finally, his feet stopped. Thirty-six steps. No further.
For a heartbeat, the cavern was silent.
Then the elder's voice broke through, filled with surprise and relief."Another B-grade talent!"
The riverbank erupted with murmurs. Jealousy and admiration flashed across youthful faces.
The sound of exhaled breaths, of envy hidden behind smiles, rippled through the crowd.
Gu Yue Chi Lian's eyes shone. His small frame trembled, and then he burst into laughter — wild, triumphant laughter that echoed against the stone walls.
"Thirty-six steps! Hahaha, thirty-six steps!"
He turned sharply toward Gu Yue Mo Chen, his gaze brimming with pride and challenge.
Now it was Mo Chen's turn to fall silent. His smile froze, and his jaw tightened.
The faint light of the moon orchids gleamed coldly across his darkened expression — the fleeting shadow of glory turning bitter in the span of a breath.
"Gu Yue Chi Chen, hmm…" Fang Yuan's fingers brushed his chin, his dark eyes glinting with a trace of amusement.
Just then, the academy elder's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear: "Gu Yue Fang Yuan!"