Lin Xuan didn't return to class the next morning.
He had already absorbed the entire introductory curriculum by glancing over the digital textbooks once. The rest—tech interfaces, practical theory, even modern cultivation alignment software—he studied in silence overnight.
What mattered wasn't attendance.
What mattered was staying beneath the radar… as much as someone like him could.
Still, he sensed the tension around the academy had shifted again.
Ever since the duel, people looked at him differently. Whispers followed him. Not suspicion—at least, not openly. More like fear masquerading as curiosity.
He could feel it.
Fear was familiar.
Back in the old world, they used to call him the "Ghost of the Southern Wastes." A man who walked alone, unbound by sect or empire. A man who won every battle not through brute force—but by knowing what others never dared learn.
But that man was dead.
Here, he was Shen Yi. A transfer student. Quiet. Unremarkable.
Or so he wanted them to believe.
At least until this body could catch up to the truth.
He moved through the side courtyards, avoiding the main plaza. Not because he feared anyone. But because crowds were loud—and loud places were where the ambitious and arrogant gathered.
He had dealt with too many of those already.
But luck didn't favor him today.
A notification popped on his wristband as he passed under a cherry-blossom archway near the greenhouse.
[Directive: Mandatory Attendance — Group Evaluation Session]Location: Combat Hall 3BTime: ImmediateAssignment Code: 731-Rank Test (Team Variant)
Lin Xuan stopped walking.
So they were forcing his hand already.
He sighed and headed toward the combat wing.
Combat Hall 3B was a steel-and-glass dome nestled behind the administration building. Inside, it mimicked various terrains using high-grade spirit projectors—turning the floor into anything from a mountain cliff to a frozen wasteland.
Today, it was set to jungle terrain.
Mist clung to the roots of simulation trees. Humidity filled the air. A group of students stood near the starting zone, all dressed in Blackthorn's standardized combat uniforms.
Seven in total. Including him.
And standing across from them was a man with a flat expression and a long scar running from his temple to his neck.
Instructor Lei Jun.
Rumored to be a former bounty cultivator from the Iron Ring District. Not someone you wanted to disappoint.
"You've been selected," Lei Jun said, eyes sweeping the group, "for a random group evaluation. Your task is simple: survive. Defeat the construct that spawns in Zone B, and escape as a team. One hour. No resets."
His eyes paused briefly on Lin Xuan.
"I don't care who you are or what background you think makes you special. In here, only results matter. Begin."
The group scattered.
Immediately, three students broke off together—tight formation, practiced steps. They clearly knew each other. Lin Xuan spotted one of them—Yun Fei, the son of an inter-sector transport magnate.
Another pair stayed behind, arguing about strategy.
That left Lin Xuan and one more: a lean, silent guy named Huo Jian, who hadn't spoken a word since walking in.
Lin Xuan didn't speak either.
He simply moved forward, boots silent against the illusion-soaked moss.
"Wait," Huo Jian said, trailing behind. "You're not gonna coordinate?"
"We'll regroup later," Lin Xuan replied calmly. "You'll understand."
Five minutes in, the jungle thickened. No sound except artificial wind.
Then came the first ripple.
A distortion in the air.
A growl.
And the thing stepped out.
It wasn't human.
It was seven feet tall, covered in chitinous black armor, four arms twitching with blades instead of fingers. Its eyes glowed a cold white. Construct or not, the killing intent was real.
The three clustered students panicked.
One launched a barrier.
Another shouted a fire incantation that barely singed the beast's arm.
The third turned to run—and was backhanded into a tree so hard the bark split.
Lin Xuan stepped in without a sound.
No aura.
No pretense.
Just motion.
His foot slid forward. Elbow arced under. The creature lunged—and Lin Xuan was already behind it.
Crack.
One joint exploded.
A precise palm into the spinal hinge—and another crack echoed.
The construct whirled, screaming.
Lin Xuan slid under the swing of its massive claw, planted a hand into its chest, and sent a hidden pulse of qi into the core node.
The thing froze.
Then collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings.
Dead silence.
The other students gaped.
"You—what the hell was that?" Yun Fei blurted. "No incantation. No glyphs. You didn't even—"
"Don't shout," Lin Xuan said, brushing dust from his sleeve. "There might be another."
He turned, walking toward the simulation gate.
But one of the injured students, a girl clutching her side, looked at him with wide eyes.
"That... technique... I've never seen anything like it."
Lin Xuan didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Let them guess.
Let the mystery feed their fear.
As long as none of them learned the truth.
As long as no one remembered the name Lin Xuan.
Later that night, Instructor Lei Jun reviewed the footage.
He watched the fight five times.
Paused. Rewound. Watched it again.
He narrowed his eyes at the frame where Shen Yi landed a palm strike into the construct's core—without activating a single external array.
No aura signature.
No tech support.
No verbal technique.
"Impossible," he muttered.
He tapped his console, pulling up Shen Yi's enrollment file.
It was thin. Too thin.
No previous records before transfer.
Origin: Blackwood District.
Parents: Unlisted.
Recommendation Letter: Encrypted and signed by Dean Zhou himself.
Lei Jun sat back, tapping a finger on the armrest.
Someone was covering for this student.
But why?
Meanwhile, across the city, the Skyshatter Pavilion's outer hall buzzed with quiet activity.
Yan Yue sat in her private chamber, staring at a hologram of Shen Yi's face.
She traced her finger along the edge of the image.
"You're not just strong," she murmured. "You're wrong. Like something out of place."
She tapped her communicator.
"Send me everything you have on pre-collapse cultivation manuscripts mentioning core meridian compression. Anything with overlapping palm technique descriptions. Cross-reference unknown sects and ancient rogue lineages."
The AI responded immediately. "That will take time. Some archives are sealed."
"Unseal them," she said.
And then leaned back, eyes still locked on his photo.
"I'll find out who you really are."
But no matter how much they searched…
No records would surface.
No names would match.
Because Lin Xuan had erased them all long ago.
And now, in this new world, no one knew the truth.
No one knew that the quiet student walking their halls was once feared across nations.
Not even the woman who killed him.
Not yet.