The elderly were desperate. Time was running out for them, and they had no years to waste—they urgently needed results.
That was why the old-arts experimental class selected university students rather than starting with children. The former were older and had stronger comprehension.
Scattered techniques all originated from the Old Earth. The organizations and research institutes believed that reviving research from the source might be the best path forward.
Most importantly, since all myths and legends were said to stem from the Old Earth, perhaps some kind of "mystic factor" remained there.
However, such a belief contradicted the dazzling civilization of deep-space science and could not be officially acknowledged.
Yet, some elderly individuals with astonishing backgrounds seemed especially drawn to mysticism in their twilight years.
What did they seek? A longer life. They hoped to unearth immortality from ancient myths, tracing the paths left behind by those who came before.
Even though they understood—at least rationally—that it was likely nothing more than an illusion, with limited time and access to vast resources, why not give it a try?
Thus, the Old Earth drew attention, and a series of "research projects" were launched there, with massive funding poured in.
Human nature is timeless—since the days of Emperor Qin, many have not been able to resist its pull.
Over the years, some aging magnates had persistently pushed for ways to gain "rebirth," sponsoring numerous research institutions.
Naturally, the study of old techniques was only one avenue of interest. Those with the power to pursue "life transformation" wouldn't rely on a single research field.
For years, the major conglomerates had invested in a variety of genetic teams and life science institutes, some of which had already made astonishing progress.
For instance, several anti-aging drugs had shown early positive results.
Research into ancient techniques was just one of dozens of "life-extension projects" under their investment umbrella.
In fact, many of these projects overlapped. With investor intervention, cross-project collaboration sometimes occurred.
For example, the food provided to Wang Xuan and his peers—meant to nourish the blood, revitalize energy, and calm the spirit—also had anti-aging properties, and its ingredients and ratios were connected to a pharmaceutical research institute.
Despite the mental strain of studying and practicing old techniques, the students of the experimental class could recover quickly with such dietary supplements.
This was a blessing for people who were constantly training and meditating. Over time, their physiques clearly improved.
Additionally, some biotech gene teams had reached out, hoping to collaborate by altering the students' physiology at the genetic level.
One such team specialized in mitochondrial research. They aimed to extend telomeres, theoretically increasing lifespan.
Everyone rejected the proposal. Though they were in the old-arts experimental class, they were not lab rats and would never agree to such treatments.
When Wang Xuan learned of this, he nearly quit on the spot. There was no way he would accept it.
He focused on mastering physical techniques, refining meditation, and practicing qi-gathering. His was a gradual, disciplined path to transformation.
To him, genetic engineering was a crude and risky shortcut, likely to leave irreversible consequences. It clashed with his philosophy and desires.
In the end, the proposed collaboration was vetoed by higher authorities, who said the technology was still immature.
Rumors later spread that some students from the New Star had influential backgrounds—there was no way their families would let them be experimented on.
At the same time, a well-connected classmate had let slip, perhaps unintentionally, that something significant had been discovered on the New Star—someone had apparently made real progress in the old techniques. That was why these individuals had come to the Old Earth, the origin of the arts, seeking deeper understanding.
But afterward, he denied everything, claiming it was just drunken nonsense.
Wang Xuan believed he had let the truth slip.
But Qin Cheng was convinced it had been nothing but drunken rambling—after all, he was the one who had gotten the classmate drunk that night.
Wang Xuan, however, felt that the New Star must have uncovered something remarkable. That could explain why the offspring of certain magnates had joined the experimental class and begun studying the ancient arts.
At that moment, the full moon hung high, casting a chill into the late autumn air.
Qin Cheng answered a call, nodding repeatedly. Then he turned to Wang Xuan and sighed, "Back then, Zhou Kun wasn't just drunk—he really let it slip."
The call had brought fresh news—rumors from the New Star were beginning to converge, hinting that several mysterious phenomena might be connected.
As early as three years ago, their classmate from the New Star, Zhou Kun, had already given them a clue!
Even if it was unintentional and induced by alcohol, it had happened.
"You must secure a spot to go to the New Star," Qin Cheng said, then turned and left.
As students of the old-arts experimental class, they lived in a quieter dormitory area to accommodate their needs for meditation and physical training.
Each had a private room and was supplied with special food shipped from deep space. It was clear that the "old-arts research project" was being taken very seriously.
At dawn, Wang Xuan woke and practiced a physical technique known as Diamond Fist. Once he had calmed his breath, he began qi-gathering as the morning glow bathed the earth.
According to their old professor, mastering one or two of the root techniques—such as qi-gathering, meditation, and internal cultivation—was essential. These formed the core of old techniques, the source of all power.
Physical arts like Xingyi and Diamond Fist were merely the branches and leaves growing from the roots. Only with a strong root system could the branches flourish.
Wang Xuan, naturally, gave these fundamentals utmost importance. He dabbled in all the "root techniques" and later focused his efforts on mastering a select few.
The campus was lined with tall trees, the lawn covered in fallen yellow leaves. The morning air was serene.
With eyes closed, Wang Xuan bathed in the morning light. As he gathered qi and applied internal cultivation, he imagined streams of golden radiance flowing into his body, engulfing him.
Though this internal technique was largely based on visualization, his body genuinely began to heat up, as if wrapped in golden flames.
Anyone nearby would have noticed something unusual about him—his body glowed with a denser morning light than normal, as if firelight flowed over his skin.
While gathering qi and applying internal cultivation, Wang Xuan vividly pictured golden rays entering his body. And it seemed this mental image had physical consequences.
His entire body grew hot, then slightly numb, as if a strange energy were threading through him. First came aching pain, then a comfortable warmth.
This peculiar sensation had only started recently.
Wang Xuan knew it was the result of long-term practice. After years of qi-gathering and internal cultivation, he was finally beginning to "harvest" results.
Just last night, when he pressed his hand hard against the trunk of a thick, sturdy tree, it left a clear handprint—evidence of the progress he'd made in mastering the fundamentals.
He had made significant strides on the path of the old arts.
Others in the experimental class—like Qin Cheng and Zhou Kun—had also been practicing, but most had only improved physically. Wang Xuan, however, had truly begun gathering qi into his body and cultivating himself from within. He was unique.
Qin Cheng and Zhou Kun could take on over a dozen normal people without issue.
Years of old-arts training and nourishing meals had vastly improved their physiques.
Wang Xuan, even before mastering qi-gathering, was already far ahead of his peers.
That was why Qin Cheng often spoke up for him—if old-arts combat was the measure, no one in the class could compare to Wang Xuan.
In fact, Wang Xuan could probably suppress any one of them with just one hand.
His body grew hotter, eventually even feverish. It felt as though tiny currents of energy flowed from his flesh to his bones.
This was a sign that qi-gathering and internal cultivation had reached a certain level.
He pictured golden morning light streaming into his body, and at the same time imagined thick, black mist being expelled from his pores.
In reality, his metabolism sped up, and his body excreted a sticky sweat—damp and viscous.
He felt as though his blood and flesh were being purified by morning light, his body and mind both cleansed, leaving him brimming with energy and vitality.
The morning sun shone through the trees, giving a soft golden hue to the lingering mist. Four young men and women strolled nearby—two men mostly silent, while the two women chatted animatedly.
One of the women was strikingly beautiful and full of life, laughing often—clearly a lively and spirited personality.
The other woman was gentle and graceful, exuding a scholarly air with a warm smile.
They were also students of the old-arts experimental class, originally from the New Star.
"Hey, look— isn't that Wang Xuan? Is… is he glowing?" asked the lively girl, her beautiful eyes widening in disbelief.
The more reserved girl was also surprised. "Could it be that he's mastered qi-gathering?"
One of the men was visibly shocked. "Someone in the experimental class… actually succeeded?!"
But he quickly shook his head—because he knew it no longer mattered.
The other man added, "It's a shame. The arts of the old era are obsolete. They've been officially abandoned. Soon we'll be returning to the New Star—something new has been discovered there. If we seize the chance, a new age may be upon us."
All four were from the New Star and were privy to the latest intel. Old techniques had been deemed outdated—there were now better options.
It felt like an era had passed, as though everything had changed.