Night settled over the Wen Clan like a heavy curtain, the cool air vibrating faintly with the distant echoes of disciples still practicing their martial techniques. Lanterns flickered along the stone pathways, casting long shadows between the bamboo stands, while the moon hung low—wide and silver—over the clan estate.
Wen Chen sat alone inside a small training hall. The room was quiet, but his heartbeat was not. It thudded steadily in his chest, filled with an uneasy mixture of anticipation and fear.
He exhaled slowly.
His palms were sweaty.
His expression tightened.
Tonight… he would risk it.
He clenched his fist and thought—
"Panel."
A warm hum vibrated in his mind.
—TALENT PANEL—
Name: Wen Chen
Cultivation: Body Tempering – Stage 1 (Progress: 43%)
Innate Talent: Low-Tier Yellow
Upgradable Through Luck Points
Luck Points: 21
He swallowed hard.
Those 21 points… every single one had been gathered secretly over the past two days.
He remembered the moments clearly—
Luck Orbs falling off disciples sparring in the outer training fields, hidden between the swings of swords, masked beneath the thud of fists striking dummies.
No one saw them.
No one sensed them.
But he did.
And each time an orb appeared, Wen Chen's pulse surged with fear that someone would notice his strange behavior—
the slight pause,
the quick step,
the way he brushed his hand along empty air that only he could see.
But no one had.
And now, his Talent Panel awaited his decision.
Wen Chen took a deep breath, chest rising slightly.
A tremor shook his fingers.
"Should I… upgrade now?"
His voice trembled even though the hall was empty.
His heart pounded painfully.
If he upgraded his talent again, his growth would accelerate even more.
But what if his sudden progress drew attention?
What if elders questioned him?
What if the clan saw him as something dangerous?
He gritted his teeth and shook his head.
"No… no more hiding. My future depends on this."
He lifted his right hand slowly, fingers trembling slightly, and pressed the UPGRADE indicator in the panel.
A sharp ding resonated inside his mind—
bright, clean, powerful.
—LUCK POINTS CONSUMED: 20—
The lanterns flickered wildly around him.
A warm current surged from the depths of his core, rushing through his arms, his legs, his spine. His breathing hitched; his muscles spasmed lightly. Sweat broke across his forehead.
His vision blurred—
then sharpened.
His sense of touch intensified.
His blood felt lighter, more alive.
The panel shifted.
Innate Talent: Mid-Tier Yellow
Luck Points Remaining: 1
Wen Chen gasped softly, his lips parting in disbelief.
He could feel it—
his meridians, previously narrow like thin strings of thread, now widened, strengthened.
The flow of energy in his body moved smoother, faster.
He tightened his fist.
"This… is completely different."
He knelt down on the wooden floor, inhaled deeply, and began circulating energy according to the Wen Clan's foundational breathing technique—the same one that had once crawled like a snail through his meridians.
Now?
It flowed like water.
A whirlpool of vitality spun in his dantian, warm and bright.
His bones vibrated faintly.
His muscles tightened and released in steady pulses.
He didn't need the panel to understand—
He was improving faster.
Much faster.
He bit his lower lip hard, trembling from the excitement.
This speed…
It was terrifying.
Addictive.
Liberating.
He continued circulating energy for almost an hour. When he finally stopped, his chest heaved, sweat rolled down his face, but his eyes burned with renewed determination.
He stood up.
And in that moment—
He sensed something strange.
Far away, in the courtyard beyond the training hall…
a surge of intense energy shook the air.
Boom!
A powerful strike.
Followed by another.
And another.
It felt like a training duel, but the force behind it…
wasn't normal.
Wen Chen frowned.
"Who is practicing at this hour?"
He pushed open the wooden door quietly and stepped into the night.
Cool wind brushed across his face, carrying faint traces of dust and crushed grass.
He followed the sounds—
his heart steady, but his instincts on alert.
When he reached the far training field, he froze.
Two figures clashed fiercely under the moonlight.
One was Wen Long, the clan's strongest outer disciple—tall, broad-shouldered, axe-wielding, his eyes burning with wild determination.
The other was Wen Bo, his longtime rival—lean, agile, his fists wrapped in cloth, sweat rolling down his temple.
Their blows shook the ground.
Wen Long roared and swung his axe.
Wen Bo ducked, punched the ground, and leapt back.
The shockwaves made bamboo nearby tremble violently.
But Wen Chen wasn't watching their techniques.
He was watching the orbs.
They appeared with every exchange—
small sparks of colored light he could see floating up and dropping to the ground.
Wen Chen's breath hitched.
There were so many.
White, green, blue—
even a faint red one pulsed weakly like a heartbeat.
He swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.
This duel wasn't just fierce.
It was a goldmine.
His fingers curled nervously.
His pulse quickened.
He couldn't approach openly—
any sudden movement here would get him noticed.
But the orbs were everywhere.
Resting.
Waiting.
Calling to him.
His eyes darted left and right.
He moved slowly along the shadows of the bamboo line, heart beating like a drum, staying low, staying silent.
He stretched his hand out gently, brushing the first orb—
—DING—
+1 LUCK POINT
The orb vanished instantly.
He inhaled sharply, excitement rising.
He touched another.
+1 LUCK POINT
Then another.
+2 LUCK POINTS
Sweat gathered on his palms—not from fear, but from exhilaration. He felt like a thief in the night, stealing treasures dropped in plain sight.
But then—
CRACK!
A bamboo stem snapped loudly under Wen Chen's foot.
His heart stopped.
The duel froze.
Both Wen Long and Wen Bo turned their heads sharply.
"Who's there?" Wen Long growled, eyes narrowing.
Wen Chen clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked.
His pulse hammered in his ears.
Wen Bo squinted toward the shadows.
"Show yourself!"
Wen Chen's breath shook.
He had been seen.
This was trouble—
big trouble.
He stepped out slowly from behind the bamboo, forcing his expression to remain calm even though adrenaline raced through him.
Wen Long frowned. "Wen Chen? What are you doing sneaking around at night?"
Wen Bo crossed his arms, sweat dripping from his jaw. His glare sharpened. "Spying? Planning to report us?"
Wen Chen opened his mouth—
But before he could speak—
A glowing red orb—the strongest one yet—fell behind Wen Long's shoulder.
No one noticed except Wen Chen.
And as the moonlight hit it, the orb pulsed—
dangerously bright.
His heartbeat pounded.
He needed to get it.
But he was standing right in front of two violent, suspicious fighters.
Wen Long took a step toward him.
Wen Chen's breath caught.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the orb.
Just for a second.
Wen Long noticed.
And his expression darkened.
"What are you looking at?"
The tension thickened instantly.
The red Luck Orb glowed stronger.
Wen Chen's hand trembled.
This was—
without doubt—
the most dangerous moment so far.
And he needed that orb.
Desperately.