The great hall of artifacts shimmered faintly beneath the light of hundreds of suspended spirit-lanterns.
Rows of children stood outside, whispering in excitement and nervousness, each waiting for their turn to step inside the sacred chamber where destiny itself awaited them.
A grey-robed guardian stood at the entrance, his sharp eyes watching every student. One by one, he lifted his hand, allowing them to enter.
"Next!"
Inside, the Artifact Hall was vast and echoing, filled with shelves upon shelves of treasures. Blades hummed faintly, jade talismans glowed with sealed runes, and crystal orbs pulsed like living hearts. Every artifact here carried a trace of soul some gentle, some wild, and some deadly silent.
When Xuan-Ming's turn finally came, a few students outside whispered quietly.
"That's him… the elder brother of Xuan-Ray."
"Hmph, third-class talent. I bet he'll pick something useless."
Xuan-Ming ignored them. His steps were calm, his face unreadable. As he entered, the great stone doors closed behind him with a heavy boom, sealing him inside the sea of artifacts.
The air in the hall carried a faint vibration a resonance that made his heart beat faster.
He looked around slowly, his eyes tracing every familiar shelf, every faint shimmer.
"Just like my past life…" he murmured under his breath.
Memories flooded his mind the scent of spirit steel, the feel of the old hall, the hundreds of young faces who once stood here… and the single artifact that changed his fate.
"The Drunken Artifact," he whispered, his gaze distant. "Where are you hiding this time?"
He moved through the aisles slowly, scanning every display jade bracelets, rings, pendants, talismans all radiating faint qi. But none of them called out to him.
A faint sense of disappointment flickered across his face.
"So it truly hasn't appeared yet…"
He sighed quietly. He could not risk suspicion if he left without choosing, the elders would start to doubt him.
So he stopped before a long rack of gleaming swords.
Each blade shone with a faint blue hue, their surfaces engraved with ancient runes of the Xuan-Clan's Secret Technique.
He reached out and lifted one of them. The moment his hand touched the hilt, a faint hum echoed through the chamber soft, yet noble. The sword vibrated lightly, acknowledging his touch.
"The Sword Artifact," he thought, a small smile forming on his lips. "Our clan's pride… forged from the spirit of flowing moonlight and tempered with the blood of beasts. These blades are born through the Xuan technique not by heaven, but by our own hands."
The sword's surface reflected his eyes calm, but carrying storms within.
"Many will choose this," he said softly. "It's a symbol of our clan. But for me…"
He closed his fingers tightly around the hilt.
"…it's only a disguise."
Deep inside, his heart whispered another truth
"The Drunken Artifact will come to me soon. And when it does… no sword under heaven will compare."
The golden light of the evening sun spilled across the courtyard as Xuan-Ming stepped out of the Artifact Hall, a faint glint of steel flashing at his side the newly chosen sword artifact.
His steps were calm, but there was no triumph in them. Only weariness.
He moved through the bustling market street of the clan's inner grounds, where disciples rushed to buy spirit herbs, scrolls, and wine all preparing to refine their chosen artifacts and claim the elders' reward.
A shopkeeper greeted him eagerly.
"Young master Xuan-Ming, what will it be today?"
Without a word, he placed two spirit stones on the counter.
"Two bottles of your strongest wine."
The shopkeeper nodded, quickly fetching two dark-red bottles.
Xuan-Ming took them quietly, the faint clink of glass echoing against his sword sheath.
As he walked away, the last of the sunlight fell upon his back stretching a long, lonely shadow behind him.
He whispered to himself, voice low and filled with frustration.
"From tomorrow, I won't even have enough spirit stones to buy another bottle… but still no sign of the Drunken Artifact."
His fingers tightened around the bottles.
"Everyone will fight for that reward tomorrow. The one who refines their artifact first will get twenty-five spirit stones…
But talent decides everything."
He looked down at his hand calloused, trembling faintly from exhaustion.
"A third-class talent like me… will never refine as fast as them. Unless I find that artifact… unless I use that method again."
The faint sound of footsteps approached from behind.
Before he could turn, a familiar, bright voice broke the silence.
"Brother! You're drinking again?"
Xuan-Ray jogged up, his expression concerned yet glowing with newfound confidence.
"Where were you last night? Uncle and Aunt were looking for you. You should stop drinking already, brother. You can still stand on your own feet again!"
He smiled earnestly a warmth that would have touched any heart.
But the moment Xuan-Ming turned, that warmth shattered.
His eyes once calm and proud now glimmered like frozen darkness.
There was no light within them, only endless depth, like an ancient abyss swallowing the world.
For a moment, Xuan-Ray's breath caught. His body froze.
A chill crept up his spine.
It felt as if he was staring into something far beyond human something broken, yet vast and silent.
His heart screamed Why am I scared?
He clenched his fists, forcing a shaky smile.
"No… I won't fear him. Not anymore. He's just a third-class talent now. I'm the genius."
When he looked up again Xuan-Ming had already passed him.
The faint scent of wine lingered in the air as he walked away, his voice drifting back cold and distant.
"You shouldn't have come looking for me there, Xuan-Ray. I left that place long ago."
For a second, Xuan-Ray stood still, unable to speak. His face burned with shame and confusion. Anger flickered inside him, but it could not hide the tremor in his chest.
The afternoon sun filtered through the silk curtains of the Xuan family's inner hall. Incense drifted in the air, the faint scent of sandalwood mixing with something heavier something that smelled like deceit.
At the head of the long jade table sat Uncle Xuan-Han and Aunt Mei-Ling, faces full of artificial warmth. Before them stood the two brothers Xuan-Ray, eyes bright with excitement, and Xuan-Ming, silent and still as stone.
Aunt Mei-Ling smiled, her voice dripping with affection.
"How time flies… You both have grown so much. Artifact Masters already! Especially you, Ray your awakening truly made us proud."
She reached into a silk pouch and placed ten spirit stones on the table, their faint blue glow shimmering like stars.
"This was our promise, remember? You've earned it."
Xuan-Ray's eyes widened with joy. He quickly bowed.
"Thank you, Aunt, Uncle!"
But beside him, Xuan-Ming did not move. His face remained emotionless, his gaze distant as if his mind wasn't even in the room.
Aunt Mei-Ling's smile flickered for a moment, then she forced a soft laugh.
"You don't have to be so polite, Ray. You're practically our child already. After all… your uncle and I have no children of our own."
Uncle Xuan-Han nodded, placing a hand on Xuan-Ray's shoulder.
"We've been thinking about this for a long time. What do you say we make it official? From today, why don't we become a real family?"
Xuan-Ray froze, disbelief flashing across his face. Then tears welled in his eyes, and he nodded eagerly.
"Yes! That's all I ever wanted. I just wanted to be capable enough… to be worthy of your family."
Aunt Mei-Ling smiled again, crocodile tears shimmering as she pretended to wipe her eyes.
"Then, from now on, you don't need to call us Aunt or Uncle anymore…"
Xuan-Ray dropped to his knees, voice trembling.
"Mother… Father…"
Aunt Mei-Ling pressed a hand to her chest and sniffed dramatically.
"My poor child… For ten years, we couldn't give you the love you deserved."
Her tears fell but they were too perfect, too rehearsed.
Across the table, Xuan-Ming stood quietly, his eyes half-lidded. To him, the whole scene felt like a poorly written play. The fake tears, the forced smiles all of it disgusted him.
He thought coldly:
"What a joke. So this is what 'family' means in this house?"
Uncle Xuan-Han turned his attention to him.
"Xuan-Ming, what about you? You're fifteen now old enough to make your own choices. You're free to accept or refuse, I won't force you. And… since you carry the Ming bloodline, I've also prepared three hundred spirit stones for you."
The faint light of the spirit stones glowed between them like a silent bribe.
Xuan-Ming looked down at them his reflection flickering faintly on their polished surfaces. Then, without hesitation, he shook his head.
"Keep them. I have no use for your generosity. If I'm not needed here anymore, then I'll be leaving."
The hall fell silent.
Xuan-Ray turned, eyes wide.
"Brother! Wait please don't decide so fast! Uncle, Aunt can't we talk about this again?"
But Uncle Xuan-Han only sighed, folding his hands behind his back.
"There's no need, Ray. Some things can't be forced. Someday, you'll understand."
If you don't understand then I will say it in short, Xuan-ming kicked aside the 10 years of uncle and aunty's favors and indirectly said fuck up.