Dawn broke with a quiet brilliance over the Wen Clan, its golden light spilling across tiled roofs and misty courtyards. Today was not the testing day yet—but it was close enough that the entire clan seemed to breathe differently. There was a pulse, a subtle tremor running through every hall, every walkway, every cluster of whispering disciples.
The courtyards were unusually alive, filled with early-morning clatter as young clan members rushed about, adjusting robes, sharpening discipline, practicing tiny motions over and over in a mixture of anxiety and determination. No one wished to appear weak before the elders. No one wanted to be the laughingstock during the root testing.
A group of younger disciples gathered near the east training ground, their expressions a blend of fear and excitement.
"Do you think the Patriarch will personally watch this year?" one boy asked, eyes sparkling.
"Of course he will," another replied proudly. "This year's batch has several promising talents. They say Wen Lian has a chance of revealing a top-tier root."
"That's just a rumor," a third snorted. "Even if she does, the clan rarely produces anyone above two-star."
"Still," the first boy murmured, "I just want to not be last."
Their laughter was nervous, striving to mask their fear. Everyone in the Wen Clan knew what the spiritual root testing meant. It was more than just a ceremony—it was a judgment, a label that followed them for life.
A young girl clutching her sleeves walked past them quietly. Her eyes were lowered, but her trembling fingers betrayed her fear.
"Yu'er," one of the older girls called, waving her closer. "You'll be fine. You practice diligently every day."
Yu'er forced a smile. "I just… hope my root isn't too low."
"Even if it is," the girl said gently, patting her shoulder, "at least you'll know where you stand. Better than being blind."
Yu'er nodded, though fear still shadowed her gaze. Not everyone in the clan had confidence; many had grown up hearing whispers behind their backs—too slow, too weak, too ordinary. The root testing would expose everything.
Not far from them, two teenage cousins sparred intensely, their movements sharp and fast.
"Faster!" one shouted. "If you move like that during the testing, they'll think you're crippled!"
The other gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his chin. "Shut up and hit me properly!"
Their wooden swords clashed, the crack echoing across the courtyard.
An elder passing by raised an eyebrow but did not scold them. Tension like this was normal before the testing.
Even the elders themselves felt something.
Inside one of the clan halls, Elder Wen Qifei sat with his arms folded, watching the young disciples through an open window. He was one of the rare few who felt sympathy for them.
"So young," he muttered. "We demand so much from them."
His companion, Elder Mu Wen, snorted. "Demand? Nonsense. This is what a clan is. Those who rise, rise. Those who fall, fall. The world answers only to strength."
"And what of kindness?" Qifei asked softly.
"Kindness?" Mu Wen scoffed. "Does kindness feed the clan? Does kindness protect us during wars? No. Talent does. Power does."
Qifei sighed but said nothing.
Outside, another group of disciples gathered for meditation practice. Their instructor, a thin man named Wen Hailin, paced before them.
"Still your breathing!" he barked. "Calm your heart! If your spirit is turbulent, your result tomorrow will suffer!"
The children squeezed their eyes shut and tried their best to focus. But even with discipline, their minds swirled with worry.
What will my root be?
What if it's low?
What if everyone laughs?
What if Father is disappointed…?
Their instructor watched them closely, sensing the storm inside each one.
Meanwhile, across the clan's central square, mothers and fathers whispered among themselves.
"My child hasn't shown any signs of brilliance," one father confided quietly. "But I hope… perhaps there's hidden potential."
A woman beside him shook her head. "Potential is rare. If it was there, we would've seen it already."
"You never know."
The mother smiled sadly. "I pray for your child then."
Hope and desperation intertwined like threads across the entire clan.
In one secluded corner of the gardens, a more sinister whisper carried through the leaves.
Elder Wen Zemin stood behind a stone lantern, watching the disciples without blinking. His gaze swept across the courtyard like a predator studying prey. He was not interested in the children's nervous chatter… except for one name that occasionally drifted to him.
Wen Chen.
Zemin's eyes narrowed dangerously each time that name was spoken.
The elder's fingers brushed the sleeve where he kept his jade talisman hidden. He had sensed fluctuations in fate around the boy before. They were faint now… but not forgotten.
"He will show something," Zemin murmured under his breath. "Root testing reveals everything. If he has gained something… I will know."
His lips curved into a cold smile as he turned away.
Elsewhere, the clan's officials began preparations for the ceremony. Servants dusted the emerald stone platform where the root-testing crystal would be placed. The spiritual array beneath the platform hummed faintly, responding to the approaching event.
"Careful," a servant warned another. "If you damage even one line of the array, the elders will have your head."
"I know that!" the other snapped, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'm being careful!"
Despite his protest, his hands shook.
The testing crystal, locked safely in a metal case, awaited its unveiling. It was an heirloom of the Wen Clan—an ancient artifact that glowed according to the examinee's root quality. Blue for Low, Yellow for Medium, Red for High, and Gold… well, no one had seen gold in decades.
The servants exchanged hopeful yet uneasy looks as they worked.
"Do you think anyone will get Red this year?" one murmured.
"Maybe Wen Lian," another whispered. "Or… that quiet boy. Wen Chen."
"Chen? The one who was always average?"
"Yes. They say he's been acting different lately."
The first servant shrugged. "Everyone acts strange before testing. Fear changes people."
They laughed softly, unaware of how close they were to the truth.
Not far from them, elders inspected the seating arrangement, making sure everything announced authority, order, and prestige.
"The Patriarch sits here."
"The inner council there."
"And the children will line up on this path."
"Good. Make it intimidating. Fear keeps them humble."
Boundaries of power were being reinforced even in the layout.
Meanwhile, across the clan grounds, groups of children compared hand seals, stances, posture—anything they thought might "increase their chances," even though the test relied solely on innate roots.
One boy raised his hands triumphantly. "My brother said if I sleep early today, my root will awaken fully!"
"That's nonsense," a girl retorted. "My grandmother said if I pray to the ancestors, they might bless me."
"Praying won't change anything," another scoffed, lifting his chin. "Root is root. It cannot be altered."
Wen Chen, watching from a distance, felt a small pang in his heart. Innocent hopes. Blind fears. Everyone believed their destiny was fixed… but he knew better.
His eyes drifted to a faint shimmer behind the garden hedge—
a small orb floated above a stone, glowing gently before slowly fading into nothing.
No one saw it.
No one even felt its presence.
But Wen Chen did.