Lin Tian walked away from the stone platform without looking back.
Behind him, laughter still echoed.
To the villagers, the Awakening Ceremony had already ended. Lin Tian was nothing more than a joke—another poor boy whose fate had been sealed.
No talent.
No future.
That was the conclusion they had happily reached.
Lin Tian didn't bother correcting them.
Let them believe it, he thought calmly.
The higher they laugh today, the harder they'll fall later.
---
The path back to his home was narrow and muddy.
Broken fences lined the road, and weeds grew wildly between abandoned houses. This was the poorest part of Qingshan Village—where those without power were pushed aside and forgotten.
Lin Tian stopped in front of a small wooden house.
The roof was patched with old tiles, the door worn from years of use. It was far from impressive—but it was home.
Before he could step inside, a coughing sound came from within.
"Father?"
Lin Tian pushed the door open.
Inside, a middle-aged man sat on a wooden chair, his back slightly bent. His face was pale, and faint lines of pain were visible around his eyes. One of his legs rested unnaturally stiff against the ground.
This was Lin Qingshan—once a cultivator, now a cripple.
"You're back early," Lin Qingshan said, forcing a smile. "How did it go?"
Lin Tian's gaze lingered briefly on his father's leg.
The injury had been caused years ago, when Lin Qingshan offended a cultivator from a minor sect. His cultivation had been shattered, his meridians damaged beyond repair.
That single incident had dragged their entire family into poverty.
Lin Tian answered calmly, "I failed."
Lin Qingshan froze for a moment.
Then he sighed.
"I see…"
There was disappointment—but not surprise.
After a long pause, Lin Qingshan shook his head gently. "It's fine. Cultivation isn't everything. As long as you live safely, that's enough."
Lin Tian clenched his fist slightly.
That's not fine, he thought.
Not in this world.
Not when weakness meant humiliation, and safety was nothing more than an illusion.
"I'm going to the back mountain," Lin Tian said.
Lin Qingshan looked up. "Be careful."
Lin Tian nodded and turned to leave.
---
The back mountain of Qingshan Village was rarely visited.
Beasts roamed freely there, and rumors said cultivators from nearby sects occasionally hunted spirit creatures in the area. For ordinary villagers, it was a place of danger.
For Lin Tian, it was the perfect place.
He walked deep into the forest, until the sounds of the village disappeared completely. Only the rustling of leaves and distant beast cries remained.
Finally, he stopped.
Lin Tian sat down cross-legged beneath an old tree.
His expression changed.
The calmness remained—but now, it was accompanied by focus so sharp it was almost frightening.
"Enough pretending," he murmured.
Closing his eyes, Lin Tian guided his consciousness inward.
Deep within his body, the warmth he had felt earlier stirred once more.
This time, he didn't suppress it.
The moment he relaxed his control—
Boom.
A surge of energy erupted inside his dantian.
Pain followed instantly.
It felt as if his meridians were being torn apart, rebuilt, and torn apart again. Cold sweat soaked his clothes, and his breathing became uneven.
But Lin Tian didn't scream.
He didn't even groan.
His jaw tightened, and his eyes remained shut.
So this is it…
For sixteen years, his body had rejected ordinary cultivation methods. Techniques never worked. Qi never responded.
Not because he lacked talent—
But because his foundation demanded something else.
The warmth condensed.
Then compressed.
Then expanded violently.
Crack.
A sound echoed within his body.
Lin Tian's eyes snapped open.
A faint aura rippled outward, causing nearby leaves to tremble.
His lips curved slightly.
"Body Tempering… completed in one step."
If anyone else were here, they would be shocked beyond belief.
Body Tempering was the first realm, yet most cultivators required months—sometimes years—to complete it.
Lin Tian had done it in a single moment.
Not because it was easy.
But because his body had been preparing for sixteen years.
However, the pain didn't stop.
Instead, it intensified.
His blood began to heat up, flowing violently through his veins.
"Blood Refinement," Lin Tian muttered.
The second realm followed immediately.
His heartbeat thundered like a drum. His vision blurred as blood seeped from the corners of his lips.
This was not normal cultivation.
This was forced advancement.
Dangerous.
Reckless.
Deadly.
Yet Lin Tian remained unmoved.
If I can't endure this, he thought coldly, then I don't deserve to climb.
Minutes passed.
Finally, the raging energy settled.
Lin Tian exhaled slowly.
His entire body felt lighter—stronger.
He stood up.
With a casual punch, he struck the tree beside him.
Crack!
The thick trunk shattered instantly.
Wood chips flew everywhere.
Lin Tian stared at his fist.
Then he laughed softly.
"So this is power."
At that moment, hurried footsteps approached.
Lin Tian's expression cooled.
From between the trees emerged three figures—Zhao Ming and two other youths, all carrying wooden weapons.
Zhao Ming sneered when he saw Lin Tian.
"Look who's here," he said mockingly. "The trash himself."
Lin Tian looked at them calmly.
"What do you want?"
Zhao Ming grinned. "Nothing much. Elder Huang said you're not allowed to waste resources. We're just here to make sure you don't steal spirit herbs."
He stepped closer, eyes filled with malice.
"Or maybe," he added, lowering his voice, "we just wanted to remind you of your place."
Lin Tian tilted his head slightly.
His gaze was cold.
"Then you chose the wrong place," he said.
Zhao Ming laughed. "Still acting tough?"
He raised his weapon.
That was when Lin Tian moved.
No warning.
No hesitation.
In a single step, he closed the distance.
Before Zhao Ming could even react—
Bang!
Lin Tian's fist slammed into his stomach.
Zhao Ming's eyes bulged.
His body lifted off the ground and crashed into a tree several meters away.
The forest fell silent.
The other two youths froze, terror flooding their faces.
Lin Tian stood calmly, lowering his fist.
"I told you," he said evenly, "I'll remember your face."
And this time—
The fear in Zhao Ming's eyes told him he had been heard.