Cultivation: From Poor Peasant to Celestial Lord

The swirling dust slowly settled. Ji Li held the grasping gesture, staring blankly at his now-empty palm.

The subtle, spiritual connection he shared with his Dharma Artifact was completely severed, replaced by an unprecedented feeling of emptiness.

He had lost.

From the moment he had stepped into the Daoist School, whether in daily cultivation or in any of the minor assessments, he, the Scion of the Ji Family, had never once tasted defeat.

Even against Lü Qing’s reckless fighting style, he could always handle it with ease, relying on his absolute power.

Yet today, under the watchful eyes of all, in the domain he excelled at most, his Dharma Artifact had been wrested from him head-on by a new student enrolled for just one year.

WHOOSH...

Ji Li slowly closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the bewilderment and shock had vanished, replaced by an intensely complex glint in their depths.

He didn’t become hysterical or fly into a rage out of humiliation like a common spoiled brat.

As the direct heir of a great Noble Family, he possessed at least that much grace.

A loss was a loss. If he didn’t even have the courage to admit defeat, what right did he have to pursue the Great Dao?

"Five Elements Transformation, Innate Geng Metal..."

Ji Li looked at Chu Bai, who was now steadying his breathing. His voice was a bit hoarse but remarkably clear. "I never expected Junior Brother Chu to have mastered such a technique. You truly turned the tables on me. I can’t complain about this loss."

Chu Bai had also managed to calm the roiling Qi and blood within him. Though his face was pale and his clothes were in tatters, his back was as straight as a javelin.

He cupped his hands in a salute, his tone calm and respectful, but not deferential.

"It was a stroke of luck. If you hadn’t expended so much energy against Senior Brothers Lü and Wu, I would have had no opportunity to exploit."

"A win is a win. On the battlefield, there is no such thing as luck. The victor is crowned king while the vanquished is branded a bandit. The outcome is all that matters."

Ji Li waved his hand, cutting off Chu Bai’s polite remarks.

He took a long look at the Dharma Seal in Chu Bai’s arms, which faintly shimmered with golden light. A cold smile touched his lips, not directed at Chu Bai, but radiating an unyielding, defiant pride.

"You’ve won the first round. But whether that Golden Seal even has a chance to warm up in your hands will depend on your abilities from here on out. The assessment is not over. We will settle this in the next two rounds."

With that, he said no more and turned to walk away.

Though his retreating figure seemed somewhat desolate, his posture remained as straight as a pine tree, radiating a resilience that promised a comeback.

Chu Bai watched him go, nodding to himself.

’This man is flexible and pragmatic, able to accept both victory and defeat. His disposition is far beyond that of an ordinary person. A truly formidable rival.’

Just then, a grand, majestic voice boomed from the heavens like a great temple bell, echoing across the entire wasteland and shattering any lingering will to fight.

"The double-hour is up!"

"The first round, [Object Control], is now over!"

As the voice of Judge Li from the Merit Department faded, countless rays of soft white light descended upon the wasteland. They weren’t attacks, but the activation of a teleportation Restriction that had been set up in advance.

Chu Bai’s vision blurred. The endless, desolate desert and the sky of yellow sand vanished in an instant. In their place was the familiar Cyan Stone Square of the Daoist School, surrounded by the deafening, tsunami-like roar from the spectator stands.

"They’re out! They’re out!"

"Quick, look! It’s Chu Bai!"

"He actually did it! He really snatched it from Ji Li!"

He had barely landed and found his footing when a tsunami of cheers washed over him. The first-year students in particular were flushed with excitement, waving their fists in the air. If the Stewards hadn’t been there to hold them back, they would have rushed forward and tossed Chu Bai into the sky.

In that moment, he was the undisputed center of attention.

Yet, mixed in with the frenzied cheers were countless other gazes—looks of astonishment, envy, and even jealousy.

In the center of the square, the hundred or so contestants stood scattered about, a portrait of myriad reactions.

Some stood dejected, empty-handed and ashen-faced, having clearly gained nothing in the struggle.

Others wore looks of delight, fiddling with the Low-Grade or Middle-Grade Dharma Artifacts in their hands, content and secretly relieved.

And then there were the few standing at the very front, their auras so distinct they stood out from the crowd like cranes among chickens.

Wang Qingli held her giant cyan shield, her graceful figure radiating a heroic air. Lü Qing, clad in his Profound Gold Armor, stood like an iron tower, unapproachable. Jiang Yingqiao held an Ancient Mirror, his expression serene as if he were merely an observer.

But in the end, everyone’s gaze converged on a single point.

There, Chu Bai stood quietly.

His clothes were torn and he looked somewhat disheveled, his breathing still unsteady. But in the eyes of the crowd, he was more dazzling than anyone else—so bright he was almost blinding.

It was because of the three shimmering lights of treasures that swirled around him, their radiances intertwining.

At his feet, the phantom of a crimson Fire Ring shimmered, radiating waves of oppressive heat. At his waist hung the Golden Seal, a symbol of attack and slaughter, its sharp aura contained within. And behind him, the heavy, ancient Small Tripod floated in mid-air, exuding an overwhelming, suppressive might.

Three Upper-Grade Dharma Artifacts!

The scene was a stunning visual spectacle, a silent taunt to all the other contestants. After all, even top-tier third-year experts like Lü Qing and Wang Qingli possessed only a single Upper-Grade Dharma Artifact each.

’It’s just... absurd.’

From within the crowd, Wang Qingli watched the boy who now held everyone’s attention. A resigned smile appeared in her beautiful eyes as she muttered to herself, ’I thought my rapid progress over the last six months might have closed the gap between us a little. I never imagined... The guy is a complete monster.’

’One year of his progress is equal to three of ours?’

Not far away, Wu Jianfei spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. He grinned, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal mixed with a hint of dread. ’That’s an understatement. This kid isn’t a monster—he’s a freak of nature!’