Era of Mist

Dazed and confused, the world spun. His consciousness seemed shrouded in a deep, black fog.

In his daze, he thought he heard something—biting sarcasm...

"With a background like yours, you should just accept your lot as a lowlife!"

He thought he saw something—vicious mockery...

"I think you just don’t know your place. Did you really think you could become one of the elites?"

Indistinctly, a dreamlike scene flickered in the darkness. Someone seemed to be speaking to him. The image was a complete blur, but the voice felt as if it were bubbling up from the depths of his heart—so clear, so vivid, that he could hear every subtle trace of mockery and disdain.

"Talk about self-improvement... not everyone is qualified for that. Studying, cultivating—those aren’t things people like you should even be thinking about. Don’t think I’m just spouting nonsense. Besides that generic, mass-market Essence Nourishment Technique, what else do you know?"

"With the money you have, you’d be lucky to afford a single basic martial arts manual. Yes, I’ll admit you’ve mastered your basic fist techniques, but so what if you’re excellent at them? With just basic fist techniques, you can’t even get into the lowest-level Fighting Club. And even if you did, you’d just be throwing your money away. You wouldn’t earn a single star-yuan."

"And forget strength techniques, you have even less of a future in cultivating heart techniques. Look at this. Know what it is? It’s an Auxiliary Manual! Never heard of it, right? Jealous? Of course you are. With your finances, you couldn’t even get your hands on a low-level Auxiliary Manual like mine. Without an Auxiliary Manual, how long will it take you to reach the first level of the Six Basic Heart Techniques? Ages?"

"The Lesser Prefecture Test is just around the corner. Can you even afford Essence-Nourishing Food? How long will it take you to condense your essence into a core? Can you get an Auxiliary Manual? How long will it take you to reach the required second level in at least two of the Six Basic Heart Techniques to qualify? I bet you can’t manage a single one. And if you can’t, you won’t even be qualified to take the Lesser Prefecture Test."

"If you fail the Lesser Prefecture Test and can’t continue your studies, what other path is there for you?"

"Your strength techniques are weak, so how will you get into a good gang? Your heart techniques are weak, so how will you get into a major corporation? If no good gang or major corporation wants you, where will you find resources? In twenty or thirty years, others might have made it big, while you’ll still be rolling around in the dust."

"But you can’t really be blamed for this. You have to blame fate."

"It’s not just you; everyone is judged by their background. Take Young Master Shen, for example. He’s probably eaten Essence-Nourishing Food for every meal since he was a child, had tutors guiding him every day, and has an entire bookshelf full of Auxiliary Manuals that others can only dream of. As for me, I’m not that much better off than you. But unlike you, I know how to read the situation. I know when it’s time to kneel."

"If I hadn’t served Brother Chong so diligently, I would have never gotten my hands on an Auxiliary Manual with my own abilities. And for someone like you from the Orphanage, it’s even more hopeless. It has nothing to do with whether you work hard or not. The Orphanage simply can’t give you any support."

"Every year, the Orphanage director sends a few people over, making it seem like he’s giving you a glimmer of hope, a path forward. But let me tell you, without resources to back you up, this so-called path of yours was, from the very beginning, a... path... to... ruin."

"If your fate is sealed, don’t talk about having a backbone or dignity. Being stubborn and unyielding will only get your skull smashed and your bones broken."

"If you were born into a rich and powerful family, this would be called ambition. But you weren’t, so you’re just being reckless and ungrateful."

"And people who are ungrateful often don’t meet a good end..."

Then, he seemed to see a provocation, an unfair fight that devolved into a beatdown. He saw himself fighting back with all his might, but in the end, his cultivation was too low, and he was brutally humiliated.

Pain and humiliation coexisted; unwillingness and dejection arrived together.

The voice faded, the image vanished, and his consciousness seemed to return to that endless darkness. But at the very bottom of that darkness, a flame ignited, expanding like an explosion.

Anger. Anger at what had happened to him.

Anger. Anger at the mockery and taunts.

But what angered him most wasn’t what those people had said. What angered him most was that, even in the deepest part of his own heart, he couldn’t deny that what that person said... was right.

’My background really is poor. Forget support for my cultivation, I have to fight with all my might just to stay alive. How can someone like me compete with those from good families? How can I ever stand before that person and tell him, fair and square, that heaven never seals all paths, that where there’s a will, there’s a way?’

’The Lesser Prefecture Test is almost here. It seems... I really can’t do it...’

’But... but... but...’

’I still...’

’I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS—!!’

A colossal rage exploded like the creation of the universe, instantly tearing apart the fog and darkness shrouding his consciousness. Seizing control of his body, he snapped his eyes open, and light flooded his vision. He kicked his legs and shot to his feet. With eyes wide with rage, a surge of injustice erupted from his heart and rushed up his throat, culminating in an irrepressible, long roar.

"AHHHHHH—!!"

CRASH, CLATTER... a jumble of noise, and then, silence.

Light streamed into his eyes, his pupils adjusting to the influx, bringing the dazzling scene into sharp focus. As his roar ended, the scene before him also cleared. When he saw everything clearly, Shi Tiexin was abruptly stunned.

This wasn’t any of the places he had imagined.

He had thought that when he woke up, he would be in his own shabby little hut, or maybe a hospital if a kind soul had sent him there. Or, worst-case scenario, abandoned in a dumpster in some back alley. The dumpster seemed most likely; after all, he didn’t have money for medical insurance, so there would be no automated medical services responding.

But the scene before him was wrong.

Very wrong.

So wrong that Shi Tiexin, who just a moment ago had been roaring with righteous indignation, was instantly dumbfounded.

—He was in a bright room, neatly arranged with many wooden desks. The desks had a strange, old-fashioned design with four wooden legs and two cubbies. They looked like props from a TV drama set in the early days of the era, during the Central Star’s great development.

Young men and women sat packed behind the desks, two to a desk, sharing the same style of equally old-fashioned long benches. Even though this was the first time he had seen this, for some reason, words like "classmate" and "deskmate" immediately popped into his head, feeling completely natural, as if he had long been accustomed to this life.

’These people... are they all students?’

Another flash of information went through his mind, and Shi Tiexin immediately understood. These people were indeed students, only here they weren’t just called students, but "high school students."