The wind of the Northern Peak was biting, carrying the sharp scent of pine needles and failure. Lin Feng, dressed in the faded gray robes of the Outer Sect, leaned heavily on his broom, his breath misting in the frigid air.
He was eighteen, an age when his peers should have already stabilized in the Body Tempering stage. Yet, Lin Feng remained stuck in the pitiable First Level of Qi Condensation, his meridians seemingly as thin and brittle as dry reeds, refusing to hold the elusive Primal Qi.
He was the "Sweeper," the perennial joke of the Crimson Cloud Sect. His job was simple: clean the dusty granite courtyards before the sun rose. A task symbolic of his station—literally sweeping away the dirt left behind by those who actually mattered.
"Look at him, still stuck in the muck," a sneering voice drifted down from the balcony above.
It was Zhao Shi, a bully from the inner circle, already at the Peak of Qi Condensation. He tossed a dirty piece of trash onto the newly swept stone. "A piece of waste should match his surroundings. Sweeper, didn't you hear me? Clean it."
Lin Feng's jaw tightened. He lowered his head, gripping the broom handle until his knuckles were white. He knew better than to fight. Zhao Shi had powerful connections, and more importantly, powerful cultivation. One palm strike would shatter Lin Feng's fragile progress.
Patience, Lin Feng. You must endure.
He knelt and picked up the filth, his heart burning with silent fury. It wasn't the bullying that mattered; it was the time lost. Every moment wasted sweeping was a moment not spent trying to break through the impenetrable bottleneck that crippled his spirit.
But that rage, as fierce as it was, was overshadowed by a far deeper, agonizing ache: Su Wanying.
The Memory of the Jade Heart
Lin Feng raised his gaze to the eastern horizon, where the majestic peaks of the neighboring Jade Heart Palace pierced the clouds. That was where she was.
Wanying, with her stunning silver eyes and the rare Ice Spirit Physique that marked her as a true genius. She was his childhood companion, his secret love, the only person who had ever treated the Sweeper with genuine respect and warmth.
"Feng, do not let them shatter your spirit. No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you," she had promised him six months ago, just before she was summoned to the Palace and officially designated as their next Holy Maiden.
That hope was now a frozen shard of ice in his heart.
Three days ago, the entire Mortal Star Field was shaken by a massive announcement: The Jade Heart Palace, facing pressure from the ancient, tyrannical Violet Flame Dynasty, had been forced into a political alliance.
Holy Maiden Su Wanying was to be married to Young Master Jian, the Dynastic Heir, within one year.
Lin Feng's mind screamed. Jian. A man rumored to have reached the Origin King stage at just twenty-five, a genius who saw the Mortal Star Field as his personal playground. If Lin Feng couldn't even break past the Qi Condensation bottleneck, how could he possibly challenge a man who stood in a realm he couldn't even dream of?
"A year," Lin Feng whispered to the cold air, "I have one year."
The Shattered Seal
Exhausted and despairing, Lin Feng retreated to his dilapidated shack—a hut relegated to the outer fringes of the sect grounds, used mostly as a storage shed.
He slumped onto his thin straw mattress. Frustration boiled over. He grabbed the single, cherished possession he owned: a worn, black, leather-bound journal. It was useless for cultivation; it was ancient, the pages brittle, filled with scribbled text in a language no one could read, and completely devoid of spiritual energy. He had found it years ago near a collapsed mountain cave.
Out of sheer agony, he slammed the book onto the dirt floor.
Clang!
Instead of the dull thud he expected, there was a resonant, metallic sound. The impact jarred something loose from the binding. A small, dull, three-sided metal shard, no larger than his thumbnail, flew out and landed on the wooden table.
Lin Feng stared at it. It looked like rusted scrap, emanating a faint, dizzying distortion in the air around it. He reached out and picked it up.
The moment his skin touched the shard, everything changed.
A searing, blinding pain shot through his arm and straight into his head. It was not a physical pain, but a tearing, mental agony, as if his consciousness was being ripped apart and reformed.
The shabby hut vanished. Lin Feng found himself suspended in a space of pure, terrifying black and purple chaos.
Who are you? A voice, ancient and echoing, boomed around him.
The metal shard in his hand was no longer dull. It pulsed with an incomprehensible light, vibrating with power that felt like the beginning and end of existence.
Then, a vision. A colossal skeleton, gilded gold and radiating the power of ten thousand suns, sat enthroned on a nebula of swirling stars. On the skeleton's forehead was a shimmering mark—the same three-sided symbol as the shard in Lin Feng's hand.
The Void Soul Seal is broken. The successor is chosen.
The golden skeleton slowly raised a finger and pointed directly at Lin Feng.
As if drawn by an invisible magnet, the metal shard burned violently and then dissolved, rushing into Lin Feng's palm. The blinding light subsided, and the sensation of being immersed in chaos was replaced by a familiar warmth.
Lin Feng gasped, falling back onto his mattress, drenched in cold sweat.
The hut was back. The sun was now halfway over the horizon. He was alive, but different.
He stared at his palm. The skin was unmarked, but deep inside, nestled against his wrist bone, he could feel something. It wasn't Qi. It was a boundless, deep energy—the essence of the Void itself.
The First Test
Driven by an instinct he didn't understand, Lin Feng pushed his mind toward this new power source. It wasn't the delicate threading of Qi into meridians; it was an open, hungry embrace of the void.
BOOM!
In the center of his chest, the stagnant, useless ball of energy that marked his First Level of Qi Condensation shattered like glass. But instead of weakening him, it opened a massive reservoir.
The Primal Qi in the air—which he could never draw in before—now rushed toward him in a frantic, visible torrent.
The sound was like a thousand rushing waterfalls.
Within seconds, his body was overflowing with energy.
Second Level of Qi Condensation!
Third Level of Qi Condensation!
Fourth Level of Qi Condensation!
He sat in absolute shock as his cultivation base—which had been immobile for three long years—surged forward, shattering bottleneck after bottleneck. The pain was excruciating, the joy intoxicating.
By the time the sun fully illuminated the Northern Peak, Lin Feng had reached the Ninth Level of Qi Condensation. He was just a single step away from entering the Body Tempering realm.
He stood up. He felt powerful, clean, and utterly changed. The crippling block on his meridians was gone.
Lin Feng looked out the window toward the Jade Heart Palace. Young Master Jian had one year.
A small, dangerous smile touched his lips.
"I won't just wait. I will take you back."
The Sweeper had awakened. The Ascension had begun.