The notice did more than announce an assessment. It altered the rhythm of the academy.
From the moment dawn broke, Riverstone Regional Academy carried a tautness beneath its usual routines, like a bowstring drawn too far back. Students spoke in lower voices. Training sessions felt sharper, more deliberate. Even the instructors moved with an added measure of restraint, as though conscious that every word and action was being quietly weighed.
Lin Wei rose early, well before the courtyard bells rang. He washed, dressed, and sat by the window of his quarters, watching the mist thin as the sun climbed. There was no anxiety in his movements, no rush. If anything, he felt an unusual clarity, as though the approaching assessment had stripped away unnecessary distractions.
This wasn't a trial meant to expose him.
It was meant to understand him.
That difference mattered.
When he stepped outside, the corridor was already busy. Several of the names listed on the notice walked the same direction, drawn toward the eastern evaluation hall. Some wore tight expressions, others masked their tension behind forced confidence. Lin Wei recognized a few faces—talented disciples, not weak by any measure, but unprepared for scrutiny that reached beyond raw strength.
Chen Yu fell into step beside him, unusually quiet.
"You slept?" Chen Yu asked.
"Enough," Lin Wei replied.
Chen Yu nodded. "I didn't."
They shared a brief smile before silence reclaimed the space between them.
The evaluation hall stood apart from the main training grounds, a wide stone structure ringed by low pillars carved with ancient runes. The formations embedded within the floor hummed faintly, steady and controlled. Several elders stood at the entrance, their expressions neutral, eyes sharp.
One by one, the selected disciples entered.
Inside, the hall opened into a broad circular chamber. At its center lay a raised platform etched with interlocking formation lines. Around it, crystal panels hovered in midair, their surfaces dark for now.
Elder Fang stood at the forefront.
"This assessment," he began, his voice calm but resonant, "is not a test of power alone. Advancement without understanding leads to collapse. We are here to ensure balance."
His gaze swept across the gathered disciples.
"You will each undergo three evaluations. Qi control. Adaptability. Mental composure. There is no ranking. There is no competition. Only observation."
Lin Wei listened carefully. Adaptability and composure were harder to fake than strength.
The first disciple stepped forward.
The Qi control evaluation was straightforward in concept, difficult in execution. Each participant stood within the formation and guided their energy through shifting pathways projected by the crystals. Too much force caused backlash. Too little failed to sustain the flow.
Lin Wei watched as the first few disciples attempted the task. Some overcompensated, flooding the pathways and triggering mild formation instability. Others hesitated, their Qi faltering under pressure. None failed outright, but none excelled either.
When Chen Yu's turn came, he inhaled deeply before stepping onto the platform. His Qi flowed unevenly at first, then stabilized as he adjusted, sweat beading at his brow. He completed the task with a grimace, earning a brief nod from one of the elders.
Then Lin Wei's name was called.
He stepped forward without ceremony.
As soon as he entered the formation, he felt it—the subtle probing woven into the structure. It wasn't merely guiding Qi. It was observing how it moved, how it responded to resistance, how it adapted to change.
Lin Wei did not force his energy into the pathways.
He listened.
The formation shifted, presenting a complex pattern meant to disrupt rhythm. Lin Wei adjusted his breathing and let his Qi follow the natural contours, refining it as it flowed. Where impurities threatened to destabilize the current, they were quietly stripped away, not aggressively, but seamlessly.
The crystals brightened slightly.
The elders' attention sharpened.
Lin Wei completed the circulation without strain. When he stepped off the platform, there was no immediate reaction. No praise. No comment.
But Elder Fang watched him a moment longer than necessary.
The second evaluation began shortly after.
Adaptability.
This time, disciples were guided into a simulated environment conjured by overlapping formations. Illusions of terrain shifted unpredictably—rock becoming water, stable ground dissolving into unstable currents of energy. The goal was simple: adapt without panicking.
Lin Wei entered the simulation and found himself standing on a narrow stone bridge suspended over a churning mist. The bridge shuddered beneath his feet.
He did not rush forward.
Instead, he tested the structure, feeling how it responded. When the stones began to dissolve, he adjusted his footing, distributing his weight evenly. When a surge of illusory wind struck, he leaned into it rather than resisting outright.
The environment shifted again—this time into a dense forest where visibility dropped sharply. Sounds echoed unpredictably. Many disciples tensed here, their movements growing rigid.
Lin Wei slowed his breathing.
He did not try to control the illusion. He accepted it, moved through it, and waited for openings rather than forcing paths. When the simulation ended, he stood calmly at the center of the platform, his posture unchanged.
The final evaluation was the simplest to explain and the hardest to endure.
Mental composure.
Each disciple was asked to sit before a crystal array that amplified internal states. Fear, doubt, aggression—anything unbalanced would ripple outward.
Lin Wei sat.
The crystal array activated, and pressure settled over his mind, probing for instability. Memories surfaced unbidden—moments of isolation, contemptuous glances, whispered insults from years past.
He acknowledged them.
Then he let them pass.
The pressure increased, searching deeper. Ambition. Desire. Anger.
Lin Wei did not suppress them. He examined them, measured their weight, and set them aside. None ruled him.
The array dimmed.
When the evaluations concluded, the elders withdrew briefly to confer. The disciples waited in silence, tension thick in the air.
Chen Yu leaned closer. "You didn't even look tired."
Lin Wei glanced at him. "You held steady."
Chen Yu huffed. "Barely."
Elder Fang returned moments later.
"The assessment is complete," he announced. "No disciplinary actions will be taken. However…"
His gaze lingered on several disciples, including Lin Wei.
"Some of you will be observed more closely in the coming months. This is not a punishment. It is an opportunity."
With that, the hall was dismissed.
As they filed out, Lin Wei felt it—a shift. Not hostility. Not approval.
Interest.
Outside, the academy resumed its usual flow, but the undercurrent had changed. Lin Wei walked back toward his quarters alone this time, his thoughts measured.
The system interface flickered softly.
[Evaluation data integrated.]
[System growth stabilized.]
No fanfare. No reward.
Just confirmation.
That night, Lin Wei sat beneath the open sky, the cool air steady against his skin. He retrieved the egg once more. Its surface glimmered faintly, patterns deepening almost imperceptibly.
"You felt it too," he murmured.
The egg pulsed, slow and steady.
The academy had weighed him.
And found him… unresolved.
That suited him just fine.