Right… I don't even know which examination room I'm in.
Liang Xiao jolted at the thought, quickly fishing his admission ticket from his pocket and hurrying through the corridors.
Fortunately, he'd arrived a few minutes early.
Had he been even slightly later, things might have turned ugly.
After several frantic turns, he finally located his examination room just before nine o'clock and slid into his seat.
The invigilator collected everyone's phones, then began distributing the test papers.
When the paper landed on his desk, Liang Xiao blinked in surprise.
The words on the page seemed sharper, clearer—his mind grasped each question instantly, threads of logic unfolding like silk.
Even before creating his Special Golden Core, he had always excelled in academics—his Chinese language scores consistently above 130 out of 150.
But now, with his mind sharper than ever, he felt something unfamiliar yet thrilling.
A perfect score might actually be possible.
Was this what it meant to be a Cultivator? Or… was it something unique to his Special Golden Core?
Either way, it was an unexpected blessing.
Time flowed quietly.
Since early submission was forbidden, Liang Xiao double-checked every section, reading through each passage again and again.
His concentration didn't waver once.
Finally, the bell rang.
As the invigilator collected the papers, he exhaled slowly, calm and composed.
This was only his second time taking the college entrance exam—but unlike his previous life, this one carried far more weight.
And yet, he wasn't nervous.
Becoming a quasi-Cultivator had sharpened not only his mind but also his confidence.
Combined with his already excellent grades, he now dared to dream bigger—perhaps even Top Scorer.
Before, my goal was just to enter a military academy and secure cultivation resources. But now… that goal can be adjusted.
His eyes gleamed with quiet determination.
In the China Region, there were two legendary universities.
The first was True Dragon Academy—the pride of the Federation.
A militarized institution dedicated to training elite officers, offering unparalleled benefits.
Admittance to True Dragon Academy elevated an entire family's status; it was the dream of countless students.
The second was Da Luo Academy—shrouded in mystery.
Rumors about it were endless.
Some said it had been founded by one of the two Immortals themselves.
Others whispered it was not a true school, but rather a sanctuary where future powerhouses were forged in secret.
No one knew the truth. The academy never explained, never advertised, and admitted only a handful of students each year.
No matter the rumors, one fact remained—it was nearly impossible to enter.
Thus, Liang Xiao set his sights on True Dragon Academy.
For him, it wasn't just a goal—it was salvation.
If he could get in, his entire family would be taken care of.
Grandpa could finally rest.
His blind younger brother could get proper treatment.
Their lives could finally step out of the shadows.
True Dragon Academy… that's the one.
He clenched his fists slightly, his decision firm.
"Liang Xiao! How was the exam?"
A cheerful voice broke his thoughts.
Turning, he saw Wu Jun striding up, smiling ear to ear.
"It was alright," Liang Xiao replied with a faint smile. "How about you?"
"Not bad. I'll probably get around 120 points."
Wu Jun laughed. "But that's nothing compared to you. So, what do you think—perfect score this time?"
Their class was an elite one, filled with the top students of Changlin High School.
Yet in an era where cultivation defined worth, even the brightest academic talents often went unnoticed.
Liang Xiao had once been an exception.
He consistently ranked first, beating Tan Weifeng—the class monitor and runner-up—by more than ten points.
But ever since the rumor spread about his "perforated Dantian," his prestige had vanished overnight.
As they chatted, the corridor's lively noise abruptly died.
The crowd parted instinctively, whispers rippling through the silence.
A mocking voice followed.
"A perfect score, huh? Maybe if you get one, your perforated Dantian will magically heal itself."
Tan Weifeng.
The class monitor approached, his expression all smiles but his gaze ice-cold.
Seeing Liang Xiao standing there unharmed made him grit his teeth.
He'd already guessed—the hired thugs had failed.
Still, he forced a smirk. "Come on, Liang Xiao. Show us that brilliance of yours."
The surrounding students exchanged glances, whispering behind their hands.
Everyone knew about Liang Xiao's crippled Dantian.
And everyone loved drama.
Wu Jun's face paled.
"He's trying to humiliate you in front of everyone again," he whispered urgently. "Ignore him. Let's go."
But Liang Xiao didn't move.
Instead, his eyes locked on Tan Weifeng—and a faint smile touched his lips.
He could feel it clearly: Tan Weifeng's Qi was only slightly stronger than his own.
That faint difference gave him confidence.
Tan raised an eyebrow as Liang Xiao stepped forward.
"Oh? You actually dare to approach—"
Bang!
Before he could finish, Liang Xiao's fist slammed into his jaw.
The impact sent him flying backward, crashing into the corridor wall with a dull thud.
"!!!"
Silence.
The entire corridor froze.
Dozens of stunned eyes turned toward Liang Xiao, who stood calmly, retracting his fist as if he'd merely brushed dust off his sleeve.
Even Wu Jun was speechless.
"Y-you… how did you—"
He wanted to ask how his deskmate—whose Dantian had been ruined—could suddenly possess such terrifying strength.
Even a newly advanced Cultivator wouldn't hit that hard.
Everyone knew repairing a Dantian required resources worth tens of billions—legendary treasures that even the wealthy might never afford.
And Liang Xiao? He lived in a slum.
There was no way.
Tan Weifeng groaned, sliding down the wall, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
He wiped it away, fury burning in his eyes.
"I don't know what Evil Path trick you used," he spat, "but striking a Cultivator means no one will blame me for crippling you!"
He roared and channeled his True Qi, launching a punch straight at Liang Xiao.
Liang Xiao's gaze hardened.
He, too, gathered the three wisps of True Qi within his Dantian and met the strike head-on.
Clang!
The impact was explosive.
A shockwave rippled through the corridor, wind howling through the narrow space.
Both figures staggered back several steps—neither gaining the advantage.
"It's… a draw?"
"He blocked Tan Weifeng's attack head-on!"
"And Tan Weifeng attacked first! How—how did Liang Xiao do that?!"
Whispers erupted instantly.
A mixture of awe, disbelief, and envy filled the air.
A cripple—once mocked by all—now stood equal to a Cultivator.
It was the stuff of legends.
Even Wu Jun stared wide-eyed, his mind spinning.
Could it be that Liang Xiao had stumbled upon a miraculous Opportunity these past few days?
Opposite him, Tan Weifeng's face twisted with shock.
His knuckles bled, trembling slightly.
He could feel it—Liang Xiao's Qi was real.
But more than that, it was pure, dense, refined.
Even purer than his own.
And that physical strength…
That blow they'd exchanged—he had lost.
"This is impossible!" Tan Weifeng's voice cracked with disbelief.
"How could your Dantian—how could you—have True Qi?!"
Before Liang Xiao could respond, a stern voice echoed through the hallway.
"What are you all doing here? Shouldn't you be preparing for the afternoon exam?"
A proctor approached, his spiritual pressure unmistakable.
He was a Cultivator—and far stronger than either of the boys before him.
The crowd immediately scattered, their earlier excitement replaced by nervous respect.
Tan Weifeng's expression darkened, but he didn't dare continue the fight.
He gave Liang Xiao one last venomous glare before turning and leaving.
Liang Xiao straightened his posture, bowed slightly, and said evenly,
"Teacher, there was no intentional disturbance. Student Tan was being overbearing, and I had no choice but to defend myself. Please forgive me."
The proctor blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.
He'd seen the entire exchange from a distance—and if he hadn't, he might actually have believed Liang Xiao's excuse.
As Liang Xiao led a still-stunned Wu Jun downstairs, the proctor's eyes followed him thoughtfully.
A perforated Dantian, they said…?
A faint smile touched the teacher's lips, laced with nostalgia.
"Perhaps he met a benefactor," he murmured quietly.
Or perhaps, he thought, the heavens themselves took pity on him.