Lu Zhiheng retrieved a simple iron key from its hiding place beneath the Cheryl rose flower pot. He entered the house and touched a small plate embedded on the wall to his left. The cheap light artifact embedded on the ceiling flickered and then illuminated the entire hallway.

  The plate was connected to the artifact via redstone wire—the most rudimentary setup available.

  Redstone was the lifeblood of common artifice in this world. A peculiar mineral capable of transmitting tactile sensation from one point to another, much like copper conducted electricity.

  The raw stone was ground into a powder, mixed with a paste derived from processed ryebrew grass, and drawn into pliable wires. Most household artifacts were touch-activated, making Redstone indispensable for even the most basic comforts. Not to mention that this same redstone—after proper carving and polishing—also served as the smallest denomination of currency in this world.

  Why did Lu Zhiheng know this fact? Because it was one of the jobs he had worked to buy himself this home.

  'On that note, the original Lu Zhiheng was an incredible kid.'

  He'd been born sixteen years ago during wartime. No information existed about his parents—who they were, where they came from. He'd simply appeared in a shelter, wrapped in bloodied cloth, suggesting his mother had just given birth. The only confirmed fact being him carrying the clan’s bloodline, and that couldn't be faked.

  It was the only thing that gave him any chance of survival. Otherwise, who knew when a newborn might disappear in the chaos of war?

  He was an orphan with a fate of never being adopted, but he was fine with it.

  He grew up in a foster home designated specifically for clan members. An iron-roofed barrack on the edge of the Fifth Zone.

  And that place was hell. Literal hell.

  Even on Earth, foster care was one of the worst places to leave a child. Here? It was exponentially worse. You fought for everything. And the worst part? The caretakers couldn't be bothered doing anything beyond distributing basic supplies—because they didn't want to influence the children.

  But Lu Zhiheng had survived. He'd been there from the start and he became the unspoken powerhouse of that pit. He trained to be stronger. He studied to be smarter. He worked himself to exhaustion to earn money. And he learned to bow his head to curry favor when necessary.

  By doing that constantly for years, he'd finally purchased this home. As for the Cyaneria's Mind Eye? He'd earned it by bootlicking a C-grade Awakened, then winning a small bet. Even though he knew that a slight mistake might destroy his potential, he didn’t stop. Furthermore C-grades were more than capable enough to control their influence. For a C-grade cultivator, Cyaneria’s mind eye wasn't particularly valuable. But for an Unawakened? It was priceless.

  'Sigh. Even after all that, he still died at the hands of his friends—idiots, all of them.'

  They were all products of the same foster care, a band of misfits who had gravitated around his strength. Yet, they grew to resent him. Why? For his pragmatism? For earning a home instead of clinging to the communal squalor?

  Unfortunately, they saw his deference as cowardice and his independence as a betrayal. They were too na?ve to understand that defeating rivals in an orphanage meant nothing in the wider world. Their envy and jealousy caused them to be reckless. Then they killed him.

  There was no excuse for what they had done. For them it was just one of those childhood moments that would come to haunt them years later. Like a bully not realizing the result of their actions. But who could truly blame them?

  If one had to compare, then Unawakened children with families were like newborns of a rich family living in some peaceful far lands while those without families were like newborns in a street at the time of war.

  Both fragile. Both requiring careful handling. Both products of their environment.

  Except Lu Zhiheng. He'd learned to be the best even in that.

  "That being said, even though this world and its people resemble something out of a cultivation novel, the technology is already somewhat like a modern lifestyle."

  Fatigue from the day’s events clung to him like a heavy cloak. All he wanted was to collapse into bed and sleep for a week.

  But his stomach growled in vehement protest.

  He was hungry, and a thrill of anticipation coursed through him—the chance to taste the cuisine of this new world. The memories already provided a brief description, but they were just a pale imitation of true sensation.

  Luckily, the original Lu Zhiheng had already prepared shyant centipede meat to slow-cook for nearly seven hours!

  The shyant centipede was a muscular, insect-like creature with dozens of horizontal bones along its spine that served as excellent substitutes for meaty ribs. After hunting and harvesting them, those ribs were cooked slowly for more than 7 hours—just like a brisket.

  In the kitchen, a rented black-iron casket grill hummed with contained heat, the fire beneath it still glowing steadily. It was an expensive artifact he had splurged on for this one day.

  Because today was special.

  Today was his birthday.

  A day no one else knew or remembered. The one old nanny who'd told him about the day he was born had long since succumbed to illness.

  The irony was thick enough to taste—he had died on the day he was born, and now another was reborn in his body, poised to claim everything he had striven for.

  ‘Haha...’ He couldn’t help but a let out a laugh.

  After turning off the heat, he quickly took out a few utensils and then opened the casket. Immediately, a wave of incredible aroma, rich and savory, flooded the small kitchen. The slab came free with a hiss. Steam ribboned upward. There, resting on the rack, was a rib larger than his forearm, the meat glistening and fall-off-the-bone tender.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  This was one of the selling points of shyant centipede meat: you didn't need to do anything to cook it. Just place the meat near constant fire for about seven hours. No condiments required. No need to monitor for burning—it conducted heat efficiently enough not to burn completely. Just set it and forget it, and you'd have a delicious meal.

  “Happy birthday to me,” he whispered. “To the new me, on the funeral of the old.”

  He picked up the rib and the meat fell off.

  “…”

  He couldn’t resist anymore and took a huge bite.

  ‘Mhmmm.’

  The meat melted on his tongue, an explosion of deep, umami flavor. It was indescribably tender, more succulent than any brisket, more flavorful than any steak from his past life. In minutes, the gigantic rib was stripped bare.

  Gone.

  And after that hearty meal, he collapsed onto the bed, his consciousness drifting far into dreamlands, fatigue evaporating like morning mist.

  "Ahh... nothing beats sleeping after a fat meal."

  The following four days passed in a blur of serene monotony.

  No one disturbed him. He ate, read books Lu Zhiheng had rented, slept, then repeated the cycle again.

  Time flowed as it always did. Mornings drifted through bamboo blinds. Sun and moon pantomimed their usual duet. Both figures still same as ever, as they matched Earth's. Except people dressed differently, thought differently, had superpowers, and appliances were expensive—but otherwise? You wouldn't notice the difference.

  Yeah...

  Day four ended. The Grand awakening ceremony would begin tomorrow.

  …

  “Ah, damn it!” he cursed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I really need to break this habit of binge-reading all night.”

  'I don't have time for breakfast. I need to get there as fast as I can.'

  He needed to reach the Central Zone's Grand Awakening Hall. And he could not be late.

  Brushing his hairs, he scrambled into his normal martial attire and then donned a formal black robe woven from Skullberry silk, a special type of silk made from skullberries. It was hand-stitched and adorned with intricate gold patterns—clothing fit for the Central Zone.

  ‘Though I’d prefer one with silver patterns, this’ll have to do for now.’ He couldn’t arrive looking like a pauper.

  He quickly boarded the fastest public cart from the nearest stop. The Central Zone was far from the Fifth Zone. Boarding a private cart would be a waste of money, and the public cart he'd just boarded was faster than many private options anyway.

  After about an hour and a half, he arrived.

  The moment he stepped off the cart, he was met with a bustling scene. People everywhere. So many shops. So many pavilions. So many halls. So many buildings. So many businesses. So many… Awakened.

  It was like traveling from a small-tier city to a massive megacity on Earth. Like visiting Beijing or Tokyo for the first time.

  Lu Zhiheng had never visited the Central Zone before. He'd never had the money, time, or need.

  Although he'd been born in the Central Zone—it served as a shelter for pregnant women and Unawakened, the future of the clan—after the war against the Dweller tides, he'd been sent to foster care in the Fifth Zone.

  He took his time walking through the streets. He still had about half an hour before the Awakening Hall entrance opened, and it was only a ten-minute walk away.

  ‘A universal constant,’ he mused. ‘Whenever you rush out late, you always arrive early.’

  'Anyway, since I'm here... let's try that famous Dragonmunk Takoyaki.'

  He walked for a few minutes down the road and reached the market with lots of food stalls.

  It was not just some ordinary day, today was the day of grand awakening that’s why there were so many food stalls.

  This was also the reason why he didn’t need to worry about getting lost, almost everyone in the district knew about the grand awakening hall, especially today.

  "Hey! How much for one?" Lu Zhiheng asked the youth standing behind the stall.

  "Five reds for small, eight for medium, ten for large."

  'Hmm. Since one red stone is roughly equivalent to half a dollar... ‘About four dollars for a medium? Not bad.’ The thought felt foreign, a tourist’s habit of converting currency.

  'Hah. I shouldn't have taken that private cart the other day. I paid like 150 dollars just for a cab and didn't even take the change. What was I thinking?'

  "Give me one medium."

  He took the food and continued toward the Grand Awakening Ceremony.

  A crowd of unawakened youths and their anxious parents milled about the entrance. The scene was eerily familiar—the tense anticipation of a college entrance exam.

  Show your identification. Get in. Awaken. Get your talent and aptitude checked. Then various competitions determined which school you'd train at, whether you'd receive scholarships or not.

  All roads led to Rome. Whether on Earth or in Shanyue Village, the system of life remained nearly the same.

  He joined the long, shuffling line. Despite a few thousand available slots, the demand was immense. When his turn came, he carefully retrieved liriodendron-violet stone from his pocket—an Essence Stone. He placed it in the guard’s outstretched hand, attracting sharp gasps and wide-eyed stares from those around him.

  He had half expected them to say things like “Didn’t know any orphan could…” or “Probably stole that…” or something like “Bet it’s synth—no sheen on the edge, see?”

  But to his disappointment, nothing like that happened. Nobody even knew who he was.

  ‘No main character moment for me, huh?’

  To obtain this stone, he'd used his entire life savings and taken out a loan, putting his home up as collateral.

  Essence Stones were precious. They had myriad uses in a cultivator's life, unlike red, green, and blue crystals, which were just normal currency with limited practical application beyond commerce.

  The clan had no need for those lower-tier stones—that's why only Essence Stones were accepted as payment. They were nearly priceless, even ten thousand times more expensive than blue crystals.

  And even if you did have a very large amount of blues, there was no guarantee that someone will exchange them.

  If he tried to convert it using his previous calculations? That was close to 50 million dollars!!

  How the hell did a fifteen sixteen-year-old earn 50 million dollars? This wasn't even Earth, where you could luck into social media fame and get rich overnight. Even then, most never earned anything even close to a million.

  But Lu Zhiheng did.

  How?

  Simple: investment in a business. Specifically, the redstone wire industry.

  He'd worked at a redstone wire factory, and one of his coworkers discovered an issue: it took time to activate artifacts using redstone wire. After years of experimentation, the coworker altered the method and processing slightly, increasing the response speed of redstone wires to near-instant.

  It was a brilliant breakthrough.

  So Lu Zhiheng went all-in, putting every crystal he had into the business as a partner.

  Because he'd invested so heavily, he had to restart saving for his house from scratch. The result? After nearly five years, by the time Lu Zhiheng turned fifteen, he had nearly ten thousand blue crystals and a house.

  And just to afford the exchange fees from blue crystals to Essence Stone, he'd taken out a loan and put his house up as collateral.

  If he'd just kept all that money? He could've lived like a king for the rest of his life.

  But he didn't.

  Why?

  Because he didn't want to become a slave to the clan.

  Instead of paying one Essence Stone, there was another option to participate in the Grand Awakening Ceremony. Otherwise, there wouldn't be such a long line. Most Unawakened—even with their parents' life savings—weren't rich enough to afford the fee.

  So they signed an agreement using a treasure that recreated a downgraded version of the legendary Heaven and Earth Vow. The agreement stated they had to follow any orders given by the clan for 1,000 years.

  At first glance, it seemed like a deal with the devil.

  But in truth, it wasn't that bad.

  The clan usually never ordered anything at all—except during war. You'd just be required to do work not much different from a normal job. And if you had talent and aptitude, they'd treat you well.

  ‘But the problem is, Awakened who sign the contract are rarely talented. And those who are talented usually came from wealthy families or branch families close to the main family—and thus can afford the Essence Stone fee anyway. So there is almost no information about the actual disadvantages of the contract.’

  The guard handed him a numbered slate. He entered the hall, and arrived at a giant open courtyard where thousands of Unawakened stood in lines. Finding his designated spot on a vast open ground chalked with numbers, he stood on it, silently observing his surroundings.

  After nearly half an hour, the courtyard was completely full. No more entrants were allowed.

  He didn't see Ni Bai, Shi Mo, Fei Yang, or Xiu Hui anywhere.

  'Looks like they decided to skip this year's awakening.'

  It wasn't necessary to awaken at sixteen. It was just the optimal age.

  At that moment, silence descended. No matter how much he tried, not a single sound could be created. Instantly, every whisper, every shuffling foot ceased. The ceremony was about to begin.

  >>> <<<