After breaking through to Mortal Foundation Stage — Level 1, Xu Yao returned to his dorm.
The night was quiet, the moonlight pale and cold.
He sat cross-legged, breathing steadily, when he remembered—
The talisman the Elder had given him.
A simple, faintly glowing slip of spiritual paper.
He pressed it between his palms.
Shhhhhh—
The talisman dissolved into particles of silver light.
The lights gathered in his sea of consciousness and formed…
A manual.
> Silent Dawn Sword Art
A gentle but profound sword technique.
The weaker you start… the stronger it becomes.
A sword art made for someone like him.
_____
The Worm Reacts
The little emerald worm floated beside him, eyes sparkling.
> "Ohhhh~ This sword art is not common."
"It trains precision, patience, and awareness. No raw strength needed."
"Perfect for your meridians. We can use this."
Xu Yao nodded, determination returning to his eyes.
____
Training Begins
At dawn, Xu Yao walked to the misty training platform behind the valley.
He held a cheap iron practice sword. It was heavy, unbalanced, dull—
but it was a sword.
He took his stance.
The worm corrected him.
> "Lower your shoulders."
"Relax the wrist, not stiff."
"Breathe through your soles, let your Qi flow like water."
Xu Yao listened.
Swing.
Whoosh.
The blade sliced through air, but not smoothly.
Again.
Whoosh.
Not enough.
He kept practicing.
Swing.
Swing.
Swing.
Hours passed.
His hands blistered, his wrists trembled, sweat dripped from his chin.
But he didn't stop.
Because pain was familiar.
Pain meant progress.
And Then…
Day after day, Xu Yao practiced the first movement of the sword art.
Just one movement. A slow, flowing strike like morning breeze.
Other disciples walked past and mocked him:
"Hahaha! Still practicing the first basic move?"
"Even children learn that in a week!"
Xu Yao ignored them.
But the worm—the worm smiled proudly.
> "They don't understand."
"You are engraving the trajectory into your bones."
"Once mastered, your sword will move before thought. That is true cultivation."
______
Breakthrough in Technique
One morning, Xu Yao was practicing as usual.
The wind was still.
The valley was quiet.
He exhaled softly…
And swung.
Shing—
The sword sliced the air with a clean, silver arc.
The mist parted around him.
Leaves stopped mid-fall.
Even the wind paused.
The movement was—
Perfect.
The worm's eyes widened.
> "You… did it."
Xu Yao opened his eyes.
His stance was stable.
His breath calm.
His sword steady.
He had mastered the First Form of Silent Dawn Sword Art.
In only one month.
____
The Worm Spoke Softly
> "Xu Yao… your meridians were weak.
But your mind—your comprehension—
is sharper than steel."
Xu Yao looked at his hands.
Once trembling.
Now steady.
He whispered:
"I am weak. But I learn. I endure. I move forward."
____
Far Above the Sect
On a high balcony where clouds swirled—
The Elder watched him.
A faint smile formed.
> "So… you were not a mistake."
Xu Yao had now reached the Mortal Foundation – Mid Stage.
Only three months remained before the year's deadline the elder had given him. His body felt lighter, his breath more stable, and his movements sharper. Each day, he trained with determination, guided quietly by the spirit worm.
The next morning, Xu Yao stepped onto the training ground, ready to begin his sword practice.
But just then, zhao wei (the arrogant senior disciple) —the same one who had always mocked him—walked over with a smirk.
> "Oh? Look who's pretending to be a cultivator now," the senior disciple sneered loudly.
"Still trash, even if you act like you've improved."
Xu Yao's eyes remained calm, but there was no longer fear in them.
He had endured enough.
> "If you have something to prove," Xu Yao said quietly, "then come."
The crowd around them froze.
No one expected Xu Yao to stand up so directly.
The senior disciple's face twisted in anger.
> "Fine! Don't blame me for teaching you a lesson!"
He launched forward, swinging his fist filled with qi.
But Xu Yao was no longer the weak boy from before.
He shifted his stance—the sword technique footwork he had practiced daily.
He dodged cleanly.
Thud!
His defense was smooth and precise, shocking everyone.
Before the senior disciple could recover balance—
Xu Yao stepped in.
His fist tightened.
Qi flowed steadily through his meridians.
One clean punch.
BOOM!
The arrogant disciple flew back and crashed to the ground, knocked unconscious instantly.
The entire training ground fell silent.
Students stared wide-eyed.
Even instructors paused.
> "One punch…?" "He… he actually knocked him out?" "Wasn't Xu Yao supposed to be weak?"
Whispers spread, disbelief turning into awe.
Xu Yao stood straight, expression calm, not arrogant.
He simply said:
> "I told you. I am not the same as before."
From that day on—
No one dared to call him trash again.