"So... It begins."
A faint smile curved Fang Yuan's lips as he stepped forward, the murmur of the crowd fading behind him.
Under countless gazes, he crossed the shallow river. Ripples spread beneath his feet, but his expression was calm, almost mocking.
The instant he reached the opposite shore, an invisible weight pressed upon him. Yet even as the pressure mounted, motes of light began to rise from the blooming sea beneath his feet.
The countless petals shimmered, and from within them drifted faint wisps of radiance. One after another, the lights surrounded Fang Yuan, then sank into his flesh like falling stars returning to the earth.
'Hope Gu.'
He recognized it instantly.
Those lights gathered into a stream within his body, flowing downward under the external pressure. They converged beneath his navel, three inches deep, coalescing into a luminous sphere that pulsed faintly with life.
The weight on his body lessened slightly.
Fang Yuan continued forward without hesitation. Each step drew more lights from the sea of blossoms.
One by one, the Hope Gu burrowed into him, merging with the glowing sphere that now blazed brighter and brighter within his abdomen.
He counted in silence, eyes sharp, mind cold.
'Below ten steps—trash without talent.'
'Ten to twenty—D grade.'
'Twenty to thirty—C grade.'
'Thirty to forty—B grade.'
'Forty to fifty—A grade.'
'I have reached twenty-three.'
He took another step.
'Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six.'
When his foot fell for the twenty-seventh time, a thunderous boom erupted inside his body.
Between his kidneys, the luminous sphere shattered, unleashing a torrent of violent energy.
To outsiders, he was still, almost serene. But within—chaos raged.
His fine hairs stood erect, every pore sealing tight.
His mind stretched taut like a bowstring at full draw, then snapped, plunging him into an instant of emptiness.
Then came release. His body softened; the tension melted away.
Sweat beaded across his skin, his breath slow and steady once more.
It had taken mere seconds. Yet to Fang Yuan, it felt like he had stepped through life and death itself.
He exhaled softly.
His consciousness sank inward, and there—below his navel, between his kidneys—he saw it.
An aperture, clear as crystal, swirling with nascent primeval light.
The Awakening Ceremony… was complete.
And within Fang Yuan's body, a wondrous transformation had taken place.
An aperture had formed — mysterious, illusory, and profound.
Though it resided within him, it did not belong to the same plane as his flesh and blood. It was both infinite and infinitesimal, vast as the heavens and yet hidden within a grain of dust.
Some called this domain the Purple Prefecture. Others named it the Chinese Pool.
But among Gu Masters, it bore a simpler name — the Primeval Sea Aperture.
It was a sphere suspended in void, its surface veiled by a gentle film of flowing white light — the lingering radiance of the Hope Gu that had burst moments ago.
That faint membrane, thin as silk, supported the entire aperture, preventing it from collapsing into nothingness.
And within that sphere stretched the boundless Primeval Sea.
The waters were serene, smooth as a mirror, their color a deep cyan tinged with metallic sheen — the signature hue of green copper primeval essence.
It was the essence that only Rank One Gu Masters could possess.
And his primeval sea's level has reached only forty-four percent of the aperture's height.
From this moment onward, Fang Yuan had formally stepped into the ranks of Gu Masters.
"Gu Yue Fang Yuan — C-grade talent!"
The academy elder's voice echoed coldly across the field.
Then — "Next, Gu Yue Fang Zheng!"
The crowd stirred with excitement, anticipation shifting away from Fang Yuan.
In his previous life, he had painted himself as a prodigy, a rising star destined for greatness.
The clan had placed their hopes upon him, only for those hopes to crumble to dust when the truth of his C-grade talent was revealed.
Their admiration had turned to mockery. Their faith — to disdain.
But this life… was different.
He had not played the genius. No poems, no displays of brilliance, no unordinary deeds. Just a quiet youth — dutiful, humble, skilled in small trades.
To the clan, he was no more than another face in the crowd. No one expected anything from him.
No one waited for him to rise.
And thus, when his result was revealed, there was no disappointment.
'Only those who dare to hope… can taste the bitterness of despair.' Fang Yuan's lips curved faintly. His eyes were calm, deep, and ancient.
'But what of the man who has already killed his hope with his own hands?'
"Gu Yue Fang Zheng!"
The elder's voice boomed through the cavern, echoing from the stone walls like a divine decree.
"I'm here!" Fang Zheng answered eagerly. He raised his hand and ran toward the river, passing by Fang Yuan, who was just stepping out of the water.
"Brother! Congratulations!" he said, his smile bright and sincere.
Fang Yuan looked at him, his lips curving faintly.
He reached out, patted Fang Zheng's chest once, and said in a calm voice, "Go on."
Then, with a soft, almost amused tone, he added, "The road ahead… will be quite interesting."
Fang Zheng smiled and nodded, unaware of the deeper meaning behind those words. Without hesitation, he stepped into the river, his figure reflecting on the trembling water's surface.
Behind him, Fang Yuan's smile faded away like mist under sunlight. His features returned to their usual calmness — cold, detached, unreadable.
He stood there in silence, watching his younger brother wade forward. A faint glint, sharp and icy, flickered in his eyes.
Fang Zheng's expression was solemn as he stepped into the sea of flowers.
The moment his foot touched the petal-strewn ground, a formless weight pressed against his chest — invisible yet undeniable.
It felt as though a vast, unseen wall stood before him, blocking his path, testing his very existence.
Then, from beneath his feet, the flowers began to glow faintly.
Gentle threads of white light rose, swirling around him before sinking into his body like drifting fireflies.
For an instant, the crushing pressure eased.
The invisible wall softened, yielding ever so slightly.
Seizing that brief opportunity, Fang Zheng clenched his fists. His jaw tightened. His muscles strained as he forced himself forward.
One step.
Two steps.
Three. Four.
Every step was a battle. The air around him trembled as if resisting his advance.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
By the eighth step, the resistance surged back, harder and denser than before — an unyielding barrier that no willpower could pierce. His advance came to a halt.
The light around him flickered weakly, then dissipated into the air.
The cavern grew silent.
Only the sound of running water remained, echoing faintly against the stone walls.
The academy elder let out a quiet sigh.
With his brush, he marked the record tablet and spoke in a measured tone that carried across the crowd:
"Gu Yue Fang Zheng — eight steps. No talent to become a Gu Master."
...