Early the next morning, Zhao Mu vaulted out of bed.
The sky was still gray when he changed into a tracksuit and slipped outside.
A daily jog around the small town had been his habit for years.
Even if he would one day become a Spirit Power User, physical fitness mattered—because the body is the foundation of everything.
Outside, the streets were almost empty. He ran past two blocks and, at the crossroads, saw a gentle girl in the same tracksuit, her long black hair swaying.
The moment she spotted him, her big eyes curved into crescents.
"Morning, Xiao Mu!"
"Morning, Mo Mo!"
Zhao Mu jogged over; the girl fell in beside him, and together they followed the street forward.
The girl's name was Shen Moran—Zhao Mu's childhood sweetheart.
Years of friendship had naturally turned into romance, and now they were a couple.
In the Xuanfeng Empire, anyone who failed to enter the Military Martial Specialization School after eighteen had to ship out to the front lines at once.
After five years of service, survivors received a huge compensation payout.
But homecoming didn't mean freedom from duty.
To keep population and birth-rates up, they had to marry within a year and produce a child within the next two.
Every couple was required to bear at least three offspring, making up for the Empire's endless need for labor and front-line replacements.
Of course, Spirit Power Users who earned major merits were exempt.
Because of this policy, Xuanfeng boys and girls matured early; dating at their age was common.
Shen Moran ran beside Zhao Mu, who purposely slowed his pace.
"Xiao Mu, the Spirit Awakening Ceremony is today. Are you nervous?"
She asked with a smile, but worry crept through her voice.
Zhao Mu thought for a second. "I'd be lying if I said no—but I believe I can become a mighty Spirit Power User!"
Determination blazed in his eyes.
He had to grow strong—powerful enough to stand among the very best in the Xuanfeng Empire.
Therefore, failure in today's Spirit Awakening Ceremony was not an option.
"I know you can do it!" Shen Moran beamed. "Ever since we entered Yuwu School at six, you've been the top student."
"You'll definitely awaken an amazing Spiritual Energy Talent!"
Hope shimmered in her gaze.
"Then enter the Military Martial Specialization School, become a powerful Spirit Power User, and leave this remote little place behind."
Zhao Mu smiled softly. "Mo Mo, your gift isn't bad either. Year after year you've ranked in the school's top ten for both academics and physical training—plenty of boys can't keep up."
"I'm sure you'll become a formidable Spirit Power User too."
Shen Moran giggled, her smile blooming like a flower.
"I'll take that as a good omen! We'll enter the Military Martial Specialization School together and grow stronger side by side!"
Zhao Mu nodded with a grin.
The Military Martial Specialization School—formally the "Directorate Military Martial Talent Training Camp."
As the name implies, it's a boot-camp that nurtures gifted Spiritual Energy users.
In short: a military academy.
Every graduate stepped onto the battlefield as an officer.
For many common soldiers, the school's starting line was an unreachable finish line.
Under the direct command of the Empire's Military Department, the school enjoyed vast resources; admission alone meant a foot through the door of social advancement.
Hence, entering the Military Martial Specialization School was the greatest dream of every ordinary student.
Half an hour later the two completed their circuit of the town.
Zhao Mu's house lay ahead, so he headed in first.
Passing the gate, he saw Bu Yanhuan already up, meditating in the yard with eyes closed.
When Zhao Mu and Shen Moran approached, she slowly opened her eyes.
At the sight of Shen Moran, a teasing glint flashed through Bu Yanhuan's gaze.
In a languid, playful tone she drawled, "Well, well, bringing your little girlfriend home—our Xiao Mu has grown up, hasn't he?"
The remark made Shen Moran's cheeks burn red.
"Good morning, Aunt Bu!"
Zhao Mu pushed open the gate and led Shen Moran into the yard.
"Mo Mo, wait here a moment; I'll make breakfast. Stay and eat with us."
Shen Moran nodded gently while Zhao Mu rolled up his sleeves and headed for the kitchen.
She stepped up to Bu Yanhuan, smiling sweetly. "Aunt Bu, when I practice Basic Sword Forms lately my thrusts feel unstable. Could you give me some pointers?"
Bu Yanhuan gave a faint smile. "Show me your thrust."
A silver flask rested beside her, its etched emblem nearly worn away. She took a swig of hard liquor while speaking.
Shen Moran walked to the center of the yard and picked up the wooden practice sword Zhao Mu usually used.
She calmed her breath, assuming a standard martial stance.
The Xuanfeng Empire trained every citizen; every child received systematic instruction at Yuwu School.
Even non-awakened people possessed combat skill, for the seemingly peaceful Empire still suffered frequent Dark Race incursions.
When necessary, commoners had to defend themselves.
Zhao Mu was right—Shen Moran studied hard and consistently ranked in the top ten at their Yuwu School.
Set in her stance, her gaze turned sharp; her right arm snapped the sword forward, the air giving a faint whistle.
Yet she wasn't satisfied. She turned and politely bowed to Bu Yanhuan.
"Aunt Bu, what should I correct?"
Bu Yanhuan glanced once and smiled. "Your force chain is wrong. Power starts from the ground, flows through the waist, and the shoulder drives the arm to thrust the sword."
"You're instinctively using your wrist. The move may look good, but the actual power is greatly reduced."
Shen Moran listened carefully, nodded, and thrust again following the advice—immediately feeling the improvement.
Overjoyed, she thanked Bu Yanhuan repeatedly.
She sat down on the step beside Bu Yanhuan.
"Aunt Bu, you must have been an amazing Spirit Power User. Why stay in a small town like Changxing with Zhao Mu instead of a major city or the front lines?"