pjbooks Chapter 120 The Shadow Beneath the Calm
Chapter 120 The Shadow Beneath the Calm
In the last hour before dawn, the long street outside the main gate of Qingyun Academy was already packed with people. The entire street was filled with vehicles from all over the world: SUVs, military vehicles, embassy cars, and even several foreign buses that had driven directly from the border crossing, their sides bearing the emblems of the Nordic Union, the East African Awakened Alliance, and the South American Ministry of Extraordinary Affairs. A thin layer of frost had formed on the windows, the frost flowers gleaming a cold, silvery-white in the dim light of the streetlights. Most of the people inside were awake; some were eating dry rations, some were reviewing their documents one last time, and some were simply sitting quietly, their hands folded on their knees, like a group of pilgrims awaiting their pilgrimage.
As the first rays of dawn pierced the still-standing wall surrounding the factory, the main gate of Qingyun Academy, which had been closed for a full week, was finally pushed open from the inside.
Wang Kai opened the door. He wasn't wearing his school uniform today, but a dark blue training uniform hastily made by Qingyun Academy, with a small, pale gold sword embroidered on the cuff—a miniature design of the Primordial Sword, the sect emblem of the Qingyun Sect, personally designed by Jiang Chen. He stood behind the door, his back ramrod straight, his right hand holding a spirit energy testing jade slip he had just retrieved from the academy's warehouse. The runes on the jade slip gleamed faintly with a pale gold light in the morning glow.
"First batch, Dragon Kingdom District, those whose names are called, please step forward."
His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly pierced through the tense nerves of everyone on the street. Before he finished speaking, a murmur arose in the crowd—some people were checking their IDs in their pockets, some were straightening their collars one last time, and some were silently praying with their hands clasped together. Several people in the front row stood up at the same time, their movements so quick that they almost bumped into each other.
"Zhang Ziming!"
A boy wearing thick-rimmed glasses squeezed out of the crowd. His school uniform was the blue and white style for seniors at Jiangzhou No. 1 High School, the cuffs were faded from washing, and the strap of his backpack was broken in half, re-tied with a red nylon rope. When he walked up to Wang Kai, he pushed up his glasses, revealing eyes that were frighteningly bright behind the lenses. His voice trembled slightly with nervousness: "My name is Zhang Ziming, from Class 4, Senior 3 at Jiangzhou No. 1 High School."
Wang Kai glanced down at the pre-marked list in his hand, confirmed the identity information, and handed the spiritual power testing jade slip to Zhang Ziming, gesturing for him to place his hand on it. Zhang Ziming pressed his palm against the surface of the jade slip, and after a few seconds, the jade slip lit up—a steady, earthy yellow light that radiated outwards in concentric circles without flickering. Wang Kai stared at the jade slip for two seconds, his eyebrows slightly raised: "Single earth-type spiritual root, good purity. Your spiritual root aptitude ranks in the top twenty among the students tested so far. Go wait over there; someone will take you to the earth-type cultivation class registration area."
Zhang Ziming stood frozen, looking down at his palm where he had pressed the jade slip, the strange sensation from the spiritual energy test still lingering. His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just nodded vigorously and turned to walk in the designated direction. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped, took a plastic lunchbox from the side pocket of his backpack, and shoved it into Wang Kai's hand. "These are dumplings my mom made, pork and cabbage filling. She asked me to bring them to Dean Jiang Chen, saying he's too thin and needs to eat more. Please." Without waiting for Wang Kai's reply, he grabbed his backpack and jogged into the school gate.
Wang Kai, holding the lunchbox, watched the tall, thin figure disappear into the morning light, then turned back and called out towards the depths of the factory, "Brother Chen, someone brought you dumplings." A few seconds later, Jiang Chen's voice drifted lazily down from the dilapidated dispatch room on the second floor of the factory, which had been temporarily converted into an office: "What kind of filling?" Wang Kai glanced at the note on the lunchbox again and answered loudly, "Pork and cabbage."
"Keep it, we'll heat it up and eat it at noon."
Wang Kai placed the lunchbox on a makeshift folding table next to him, picked up the jade slip again, and scanned the next name on the list.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the factory, Shen Qingxue was standing in the center of a makeshift physical training testing area.
Before her stood a row of trainees waiting for their tests, men and women, ranging in age from seventeen to over forty. Some wore designer sportswear, others wore faded old camouflage, and one leaned on a cane—a veteran wounded and discharged during the monster horde attack on the southern border two years prior, his left leg still a prosthetic, yet he stood straighter than the others. Shen Qingxue's gaze lingered on him for a second longer before shifting away, raising her right hand in a "ready" gesture.
"Body cultivation doesn't require spiritual roots, but it does require willpower. The test is simple—take one of my punches with your bare body. If you can, you enter the body cultivation class; if you can't, you can wait for the next batch. I only use one percent of my strength when I punch."
As she finished speaking, she clenched her right fist abruptly, icy blue spiritual energy flowing between her fingers, instantly lowering the surrounding air temperature by several degrees. A burly man standing at the front took a step back, only to be gently nudged on the heel by a veteran next to him with his prosthetic leg, before blushing and standing back. The veteran stepped forward and said calmly in an unnaturally hoarse voice, "I'll go first."
Shen Qingxue looked at him, at the alloy prosthetic leg on his left leg that was worn smooth, and at his eyes that were clouded by time and battlefields but were still calm. She was silent for a moment, and then nodded.
She threw a punch. The icy blue fist stopped three inches from the veteran's chest, the wind from the punch making the leaves of the locust tree behind him rustle loudly, but he didn't budge.
"Passed. What's your name?"
"Zhao Tieshan. Formerly a retired sergeant from the Third Awakened Brigade of the Southwest Theater Command of the Dragon Kingdom."
Shen Qingxue wrote his name on the record board, paused for a moment, and wrote with more force than usual.
On the long street, the queue was still slowly moving forward. The sky was already fully light, but the line stretched as far as the eye could see. Global registration had surpassed twenty million, and those standing here today were the first batch of students, selected through rigorous screening by the General Administration. They were all individuals with spiritual roots or top-tier physical cultivation potential, dreamers who had traveled from all over the world, moved by Jiang Chen's words, "I don't ask about background, I only look at your Dao heart."
Meanwhile, in the distant Void Temple of the Apostles, ten apostles silently watched this cross-dimensional live broadcast through a giant light screen atop ten thrones arranged in a ring.
The same scene played repeatedly on the screen: in an inconspicuous corner at the end of the long street, a middle-aged woman in her forties, wearing faded blue overalls, was squatting on the ground, taking out several boxes of packaged dumplings from a thermal bag she carried with her, and distributing them one by one to the students in the waiting area. Her movements were skillful and efficient, and there was no fluctuation of spiritual power in her eyes, but each student who received a lunchbox from her would be slightly stunned—because when she handed over the dumplings, she would always habitually say, "Don't rush, take your time, you need to eat well to have the strength to cultivate," her tone as gentle as if she were reminding her child who was about to embark on a long journey.
Kahn leaned back on the first throne, his amber eyes reflecting the figure dividing the dumplings. His gaze lingered on the light screen for a long time before turning to the crystal ball suspended in the center of the temple, and he slowly spoke: "Thran, reflect upon her."
Thran had his eyes closed, his silvery-white eyelashes trembling slightly. After a moment, he opened his eyes, and in the emptiness within his eye sockets, an extremely complex vortex of fate was reflected.
"Her name is Jiang Xueqin, Jiang Chen's mother. She has no spiritual power, no spiritual root, and no extraordinary foundation. She brought a total of 230 dumplings today, filled with pork and cabbage, which she made herself by hand at 3 a.m.
Kahn remained silent for a long time. So long that the other Apostles exchanged bewildered glances, assuming that the First Apostle was contemplating some crucial strategy concerning the very survival of the Apostle realm. Then he spoke, his voice as calm as if stating a law etched into the very essence of the void:
"Three hundred years ago, we thought the upper limit of human power was the Awakened Ones. Three days ago, we thought the upper limit of human power was the Immortal Cultivators. Now I understand—humanity's true power is this. It's the kind of power that involves getting up at three in the morning to make dumplings, then squatting by the roadside and handing them out to strangers one by one. An Immortal Emperor's sword can kill an Apostle, but this thing can create an Immortal Emperor."