‘Dou Zhi Li, 3rd stage!’
The words glowed on the face of the Soul Appraisal Tablet, stark and hurtful. Before it, the youth stood expressionless, his lips twisting into a small, self-mocking smile. He clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms, the sharp sting of pain a welcome distraction.
“Wei Lang, Dou Zhi Li, 3rd stage! Rank: Low!” Beside the stone monument, a middle-aged man glanced at the result and announced it in an indifferent voice.
The moment the man finished speaking, a predictable commotion rippled through the onlookers in the square. Voices rose, thick with ridicule.
“Third stage? Heh, as expected. The ‘genius’ has fallen back a step yet again.”
“Ugh, that piece of trash is a disgrace to the entire clan.”
“If his father wasn't the clan leader, he would have been kicked out long ago. No one would give him a second thought, and he certainly wouldn’t be leeching off the clan’s resources.”
“How could the most famous prodigy in Qinghe City have fallen this far in just a few years?”
“Who knows? Maybe he committed some unforgivable sin and angered the gods.”
The jeers and laughter swirled around him, each word a needle piercing his heart. The youth stood motionless, his breathing growing heavy.
He finally lifted his head, revealing a delicate, youthful face. His jet-black eyes swept past the sneering faces of his peers, and the self-mockery on his lips curdled into pure bitterness.
Were these people always so cold? he wondered. Or is this just their way of taking back the fawning congratulations they gave me three years ago? Smiling bitterly, Wei Lang turned and walked silently back toward the fringes of the crowd, a solitary figure who didn't belong.
“Next up, Wei Qiao!”
At the tester’s call, a teenage girl hurried out from the crowd. The moment she stepped onto the platform, the murmuring died down, and every pair of eyes locked onto her.
The girl was no more than fourteen. Though not a stunning beauty, her youthful features and air of innocence were captivating.
She stepped forward and placed her small hands on the black stone monument, gently closing her eyes.
As she did, the monument flared with a brilliant light.
‘Dou Zhi Li, 7th stage!’
“Wei Qiao, Dou Zhi Li, 7th stage! Rank: High!”
“Yes!” Hearing the tester announce the result, the girl broke into a proud smile.
“Hah, 7th stage Dou Zhi Li. Impressive! At this rate, she’ll be a true Dou Zhe within three years.”
“She’s truly one of the clan’s most promising talents.”
Hearing the wave of unanimous praise, the girl’s smile widened. It was the siren song of vanity, a temptation few girls could resist.
While chatting with the other girls, her gaze drifted through the crowd and settled on the lonely figure standing apart from the rest.
She furrowed her brows, considering walking over, but ultimately decided against it. The gap between them was already too vast. Given Wei Lang’s performance over the past few years, he would be relegated to the lowest tier of clan members after the Adulthood Ceremony. She, however, with her burgeoning talent, was destined to become a valued fighter, nurtured and supported by the clan. Her future was limitless.
“Ai…” A soft, inexplicable sigh escaped her lips. Wei Qiao remembered the boy from three years ago, the one who had been so full of energy and pride. He had begun his training at four, reached the 9th stage of Dou Zhi Li at ten, and at eleven, he broke through the 10th stage barrier, successfully condensing his Dou Zhi Qi Xuan. He had become the youngest Dou Zhe the clan had seen in a hundred years.
Back then, his confidence and immense potential had attracted the admiration of countless youths, including, of course, Wei Qiao herself.
But the path of a genius is seldom smooth. Three years ago, at the absolute peak of his fame, that brilliant young man suffered the cruelest possible blow. The Dou Zhi Qi Xuan he had spent a decade painstakingly accumulating vanished overnight. All the Dou Zhi Li in his body slowly dissipated, and the awe he once commanded was replaced by pity.
With the loss of his Dou Zhi Li, his physical strength withered as well.
In a single night, he fell from the pinnacle of genius to a level below that of an ordinary person. A blow like that had shattered his will to train. The reverence he once inspired had soured into disdain and ridicule.
To stand so high and fall so far—it was a fall from which he might never recover.
“Next, Wei Ruolan!”
The tester’s voice cut through the commotion once more.
At the sound of that name, the crowd instantly fell silent. Every gaze swung in one direction.
At the center of their attention stood a teenage girl in a purple dress. She was the picture of elegance, her calm and immaculate face completely untroubled by the stares of the crowd.
Her serene indifference was like a lotus blooming, untouched by the murky water around it. At such a young age, she already possessed the grace of a refined lady. One could only imagine the stir she would cause in the city, and even the nation, once she fully matured.
This girl in purple was, in terms of sheer beauty, leagues above Wei Qiao. It was no wonder the crowd reacted as they did.
Taking small, graceful steps, the girl named Wei Ruolan walked to the stone monument. She reached out a small hand, and a purple sleeve embroidered with black and gold thread slipped down her arm, revealing a delicate, snow-white wrist. She touched the monument lightly.
In the ensuing silence, the monument shone again, brighter than before.
“Dou Zhi Li, 9th stage! Rank: High!”
As the words materialized on the stone, the entire square fell utterly silent.
“...She actually reached the 9th stage. That’s frightening! The title of the clan’s youngest high-rank member now belongs to Miss Ruolan, without a doubt!” After a moment of stunned silence, a few of the boys couldn’t help but let out admiring whistles, their eyes filled with respect and awe.
Dou Zhi Li was the foundation for becoming a Dou Zhe. It was divided into ten stages. Only when a practitioner reached the 10th stage of Dou Zhi Li could they condense a Dou Qi Xuan and become a respected Dou Zhe.
From within the crowd, Wei Qiao stared at the girl in the purple dress, a flicker of jealousy in her eyes.
Looking at the result, the normally indifferent middle-aged tester broke into a rare smile. “Miss Ruolan,” he congratulated her, “in another half a year, you should be able to condense your Dou Qi Xuan. If you succeed, you will become a Dou Zhe at the age of fourteen—the second person in the Wei Clan’s history to do so.”
The second, of course. The first had been the fallen genius, Wei Lang.
“Thank you.” The girl gave a slight nod, a flicker of pleasure touching her calm expression. She turned quietly and, under the watchful eyes of the entire crowd, walked slowly toward the dejected youth at the back of the group.
“Brother Wei Lang.” The girl stopped at his side and bowed respectfully. A gentle, elegant smile lit up her beautiful face, a smile that would make the other girls burn with jealousy.
“What qualifications do I have for you to still call me that?” he asked bitterly, looking at the girl who was considered the radiant pearl of the clan. His words caused her expression to dim for a fraction of a second, but her respectful demeanor did not waver.
“Brother Wei Lang, you once told Ruolan that to take on anything, one must first be able to let it go. Only then can one be truly free,” Wei Ruolan said gently, her smile full of warmth.
“Haha, truly free? I’m good at spouting words, that’s all. Look at me now. Do I look like a free person? That world was never truly mine to begin with,” Wei Lang said with a dispirited, self-deprecating laugh.
Seeing his somber mood, Wei Ruolan’s fine brows knitted together. “Brother Wei Lang,” she said earnestly, “though I don’t know what has happened to you, Ruolan truly believes that you will stand up again and reclaim the glory and respect you lost…” She paused, a light blush dusting her pale cheeks. “Back then… so many of us looked up to you.”
“Haha…” Hearing her sincere words, he could only manage an awkward laugh. He said nothing more. Anyone else might have been moved by her faith, but he had neither the right nor the will to accept it. He simply turned and began walking away from the square.
Standing still, she watched his lonely figure retreat. After a moment’s hesitation, she hurried to catch up, falling into step beside him. From the crowd behind them, a sharp, jealous wolf whistle cut through the air.