The cosmos had a headache.
For ten thousand years, the pinnacle of existence was occupied by one being: Grand-Emperor Void-Smasher (G-EVS). He had tamed the Void, weaponized starlight, and memorized every known Dao—only to hit the final, frustrating wall: the Celestial Barrier of Cosmic Boredom.
"A breakthrough requires novelty," G-EVS had mused, floating above a galaxy he was about to compress into a spiritual paperweight. "I must forget everything. I must become… ordinary."
And so, he enacted his flawed master plan. Using the Technique of the Mortal Shell, he sealed his entire, omnipotent being into a single, marble-sized Core of Infinite Density, lodging it deep within his Dantian. His memories—the secrets of 9,999 Daos and the 10,000 Earthly Arts—were locked behind the impenetrable Gate of Absolute Common Sense.
A flash of light, a cosmological hiccup, and G-EVS was gone. In his place stood Lin Qi, a seventeen-year-old youth with mild body odor, zero ambitions, and a completely blank slate where world-shattering knowledge used to be.
His sealed power didn't vanish; it simply transmuted into an unstoppable, invisible force field: Absolutely Indestructible and Blind Luck (AII&BL). It was the universe's apology for letting him be so stupid.
The Whispering Willow Sect was, to put it mildly, irrelevant. It was a 9^{\text{th}}-tier establishment whose main claim to fame was that the founder's beard had once been mistaken for a rare spirit herb—an incident they still printed on their recruitment pamphlets.
Sect Master Wu, a man whose permanent frown suggested he was constantly running late for his own funeral, stood overseeing the annual disciple enrollment. They needed twenty new disciples to maintain their government subsidy. So far, they had accepted seventeen people whose best talent was not falling down too often.
"Next!" Wu bellowed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
A scrawny youth shuffled forward. This was Lin Qi.
Lin Qi was only there because his neighbor, Old Man Zhou, had promised him three steamed buns if he waited in the line.
"Name?" asked Disciple Supervisor Feng, a tired man whose primary duty was trying to make the Sect look respectable.
"Lin… Lin Qi," the boy mumbled, still contemplating the promised buns.
"Age: Seventeen. Stand before the Spirit Aptitude Stone."
The Spirit Aptitude Stone was a dull gray rock carved with ancient, faded runes. When touched by a potential disciple, it was supposed to glow from Deep Red (terrible talent) to Brilliant White (heavenly talent).
Lin Qi placed his hand on the stone. He felt nothing, thought of nothing. He just hoped the whole process was quick.
Sect Master Wu leaned in, ready to accept a low-grade Red glow. He could work with Red. Red meant they could still sweep the floors.
But the stone did not glow Red.
It did not glow Yellow, or Green, or even an embarrassing Faint Pink.
Instead, a low, mechanical grinding sound emanated from the ancient rock. The air grew heavy, thick with the silence of a hundred held breaths.
Then, with a sound like a disappointed deity throwing a tantrum, the Spirit Aptitude Stone violently exploded.
CR-A-ACK!
Shards of ancient stone flew everywhere. Sect Master Wu shrieked and ducked behind a stack of unused pamphlets. Disciple Supervisor Feng was momentarily stunned, a small piece of granite now embedded harmlessly in his ponytail.
Lin Qi, standing in the center of the dust cloud, blinked slowly.
"Oh," he said, wiping a speck of dust off his ear. "Did I… did I break it?"
A profound silence descended upon the enrollment grounds. The seventeen previously accepted disciples began to tremble.
Sect Master Wu slowly emerged from behind the pamphlets, his eyes wide and vacant.
"He… he broke it," whispered Disciple Supervisor Feng, pulling the granite out of his hair. "The Stone of Heavenly Judgement… is shattered."
Lin Qi, completely oblivious to the terror he'd inspired, was worried. "Will that cost me the three steamed buns?"
Wu didn't hear him. The Sect Master's mind, honed by decades of scraping by, was racing through possibilities:
* This youth is so utterly devoid of Qi and talent that his presence creates a negative pressure that destroys the testing array. (Plausible, but embarrassing.)
* This youth is a sealed ancient monster, who just cracked the stone with a mere fraction of his hidden Qi. (Terrifying, but potentially profitable.)
Wu clutched his trembling fist. He chose Option 2. He had to. His subsidy depended on it.
He stepped forward, his eyes now shining with a false, desperate reverence.
"Disciple Lin Qi," he declared in a voice that shook only slightly. "Your talent… is utterly unprecedented."
Lin Qi tilted his head. "It is?"
"Indeed!" Wu roared, desperate to convince himself. "You did not achieve a White, or a Gold! You achieved the legendary, Unseen Shattering Grade!"
He swept his hand towards the destroyed stone.
"The Dao seeks to test us by giving us obstacles," Sect Master Wu announced to the terrified crowd, using a classic Maxim, only to butcher it horribly. "But the true master simply smashes the obstacle and demands a refund!"
He then delivered his original, panic-induced dictum, directed pointedly at his confused new disciple:
> "When the Dao seeks to smite you, it often first checks if you're holding a delicious snack."
>
"Therefore," Wu concluded, sweating profusely. "You are admitted, effective immediately, as an Elite Inner Disciple! Now go find a broom!" (He quickly downgraded him to Miscellaneous Outer Disciple in a mental note.)
Lin Qi, slightly cheered by the fact he was still eligible for the promised buns, merely nodded. He had successfully applied to the Whispering Willow Sect. The most powerful being in the cosmos was now on the payroll of a 9^{\text{th}}-tier cleanup crew.
The accidental ascension had begun.