The sun was high above the glass dome that arched over Blackthorn Academy's central courtyard, casting golden light across the marble floors. Students walked in groups, murmuring about classes, new martial techniques, or the outcome of the Zenith preliminaries.
But all of them were talking about one thing:
Shen Yi.
"He took down Li Feng with a single palm strike."
"No way! Li Feng's defense was reinforced by dual spirit barriers!"
"That's what the report said. And he wasn't even panting after the fight…"
Whispers followed Lin Xuan wherever he walked, though none dared approach. His presence now sparked both curiosity and caution.
He didn't respond to any of it.
Instead, he moved through the academy like a ghost, headed toward the Silent Wing—a rarely visited section of the archives reserved for self-study.
The door opened with a low hiss. Inside was a long, cool corridor lined with ancient and digital texts. It was quiet, the air still, the world forgotten.
Perfect.
He scanned the rows until he found what he was looking for: Foundations of Cultivation in Post-Era Technology. He pulled it from the shelf and sat cross-legged at a table made of smooth obsidian.
The book glowed faintly as it unlocked with his student ID.
He began reading.
So this is how cultivation works here…
Spiritual networks. Artificial dantian implants. Energy conversion matrices connected to environmental qi extractors. It was so different from the natural essence flows of his original world, yet underneath it all, the foundation was still cultivation—only dressed up in metal and code.
He committed every page to memory.
Suddenly, he paused.
There was someone watching him.
He didn't turn around. His senses stretched gently outward.
Someone in the far corner, behind the illusion field of the far bookshelf.
Not a student.
Too quiet. Too calm.
Instructor.
No… too skilled even for that.
Whoever they were, they didn't move or speak. They were simply observing.
Testing me?
Lin Xuan flipped to the next page, pretending not to notice.
Eventually, the presence faded like mist.
But it confirmed what he already knew.
He was no longer invisible.
Meanwhile, in another part of the academy, inside a secured observation room, two instructors stood behind one-way glass, watching a screen display footage of Lin Xuan inside the archives.
"You said he entered here every morning?" one of them asked.
Instructor Lei Jun nodded. "Never misses a day. Doesn't speak to anyone. Doesn't request training partners."
"Strange. Most students crave recognition after a tournament like that."
"He doesn't. Not even a little."
A third figure stepped forward from the shadows. Unlike the others, this man wore no academy badge. His face was unassuming, yet the instructors tensed slightly in his presence.
He was from the Internal Division—a part of the academy that very few even knew existed.
"What do we know about Shen Yi?" the agent asked.
Lei Jun sighed. "Transfer student. Records show his file came from the Western Territory Branch, but the details are… sparse. Too clean."
The agent nodded.
"Monitor him."
"For what, exactly?" the other instructor asked.
The agent's voice was flat.
"For anomalies. The academy has enough prodigies. But someone like him… he's either a blessing or a threat."
Back in the Silent Wing, Lin Xuan closed the book after reading its final page. He didn't need to take notes. Everything was already organized in his memory like a tapestry of energy paths and digital conversion sequences.
As he stood to leave, the terminal blinked with a new message:
From: Academy Central
Subject: Personalized Course Assignment
You have been selected for a special project under the guidance of Instructor Yao Lin. Report to Training Lab Delta at 7:00 AM tomorrow.
This project is confidential.
Lin Xuan raised an eyebrow.
They're trying to pull me in deeper.
He left the archive without replying.
The next morning, the sky was still dark when Lin Xuan arrived at Training Lab Delta.
The lab was unlike any part of the academy he'd seen so far. Sleek walls of black alloy hummed with restrained energy. Holographic diagrams floated through the air—anatomical charts, energy flow paths, and spiritual circuit maps.
Inside waited Instructor Yao Lin, a woman with sharp eyes and snow-white hair tied into a tight braid. She looked up from her console as he entered.
"You're early," she said.
"I like quiet places," Lin Xuan replied calmly.
She studied him for a long moment, then gestured toward the center of the room.
"I want to see your form."
Lin Xuan didn't argue. He walked to the center, activated the holographic combat projection system, and took a stance.
Instructor Yao Lin observed him in silence as he performed a basic routine.
What she expected was the standard foundation-level practice.
What she got was something else entirely.
His movements were precise—not the precision of someone mimicking techniques, but the precision of one who had forged them from experience.
His footwork was too smooth.
His energy too stable.
His transitions between forms were unnaturally fluid.
He was stronger than he should be. Stronger than most instructors at his level. But not because of raw power—because of how he used what little he had.
She interrupted before he finished.
"That's enough."
Lin Xuan stepped back.
She approached, her eyes narrow. "Where did you learn that?"
He looked her straight in the eyes.
"I trained alone."
A pause.
Then, surprisingly, she smiled faintly.
"You're either lying or the most talented student this academy has seen in a decade."
"Is that a problem?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "But it means you're going to be very busy."
That day marked the beginning of something new.
Lin Xuan was placed into Advanced Special Training Group B, a program usually reserved for students with exceptional combat potential.
Only a dozen others were in the group, and all of them had ties to powerful families, factions, or rare bloodlines.
Lin Xuan was the outlier.
But he didn't act like it.
He showed up to training. He completed assignments. He defeated opponents without flair or arrogance.
And as the days passed, the group changed.
Some grew cautious around him.
Others tried to befriend him.
One student—a red-eyed girl with a reputation for crushing her teammates—even challenged him to a sparring match.
She lost in under a minute.
After that, no one else tried.
One week later, he received a private message:
Encrypted Channel: Unknown Sender
"You're not who you say you are. Meet me tonight. Rooftop C. Come alone."
Lin Xuan stared at the message for a moment.
Then he erased it.
And went back to meditating.
That night, on the roof of Dormitory C, the wind was cold and silent.
A shadow stepped out from the antenna structure.
It was Yun Fei.
He looked tense, scanning the rooftop before speaking.
"You know… you don't have to keep pretending."
Lin Xuan tilted his head slightly. "Pretending what?"
"That you're just some new student."
Lin Xuan said nothing.
Yun Fei continued, "I don't know who you really are. But people don't move like that unless they've been through war. Real war."
Still, Lin Xuan remained silent.
Yun Fei sighed. "I'm not here to expose you. I just wanted to say… whatever your reason for being here is, don't get pulled into the academy's politics."
Lin Xuan finally spoke.
"I have no intention of getting involved in anything."
Yun Fei chuckled.
"Then you're already too deep."
He left.
Lin Xuan remained alone on the rooftop, eyes fixed on the distant skyline of the city.
The wind tugged at his coat.
This world was modern.
Its cultivation was different.
But its people… they were the same.
Hungry.
Afraid.
Ambitious.
He closed his eyes.
He would walk his own path.
But he would walk it in shadow.
Because no one could ever know who he truly was.
Not now.
Not ever.