The classroom buzzed like a nest of hyperactive bees.
Six-year-olds bounced in their seats, swung their legs, and made way too much noise for a room that was supposed to be solemn and life-changing.
Today was Spirit Awakening Day.
Today was the day they discovered whether they were destined for greatness, mediocrity…or lifelong humiliation.
Wulin sat at the third row from the front, hands gripping the edge of his chair so tightly his knuckles had turned white. His feet didn't even touch the floor yet.
His heart thumped like a small war drum.
This is it. Today is the day I awaken something awesome. Like a dragon. Or a tiger. Or a super rare mythical phoenix sword dragon tiger phoenix.
His imagination was a dangerous place.
Behind him, a boy named Liu Chu whined, voice nasal and dramatic: "Teacher, do I REALLY have to go first? My stomach is dying. It's completely dead. I think I'm dying."
"You're definitely not dying," the teacher said flatly. "You just ate seven steamed buns at lunch."
"That was emotional eating."
"You were perfectly calm."
"That was internal emotional eating."
The teacher pinched the bridge of her nose — a gesture she'd been making a lot ever since Wulin's class was assigned to her.
At the front of the room sat a middle-aged man in ceremonial robes adorned with simple spirit-runic patterns. The Spirit Awakener, invited from Eastsea City's Spirit Pagoda branch — though judging by his exhausted expression, he regretted accepting the assignment.
"Children," he announced, raising his hands for silence. "Today, each of you will awaken your Martial Soul. It may be powerful. It may be ordinary. It may even be weak. But whatever it is—"
"WE'RE ALL GONNA BE LEGENDS!" shouted a kid from the back.
The Awakener stared at him.
"…Yes. Something like that."
The teacher clapped sharply. "Line up. Alphabetical order. No screaming, no crying, no biting—WANG KE I SAID NO BITING."
Tiny chaos ensued.
The first child stepped forward — a trembling girl with pigtails.
The Awakener placed his hand on her head. Soft white light bloomed.
"Martial soul: Flower Vine. Rank 4 innate soul power. Not bad."
The class clapped politely. The girl looked like she might faint from joy.
Next was a boy with round cheeks and more energy than the sun. Light flashed.
"Martial Soul: Iron Bucket. Rank… 0."
The entire class froze.
Someone whispered loudly, "Bucket soul?! Can he defend with it?"
The boy lifted the bucket proudly and slammed it over his head like a helmet.
Everyone stared. He shouted from inside the bucket, voice echoing:
"I AM INVINCIBLE!"
The Awakener sighed. "Please step aside before you run into a wall."
More students went. A girl awakened a Ribbon. A boy got Pebble Control (which he demonstrated by making a pebble vibrate sadly).
Lots of clapping. Lots of consoling. Lots of tiny dreams being built or crushed.
Then—
"Ye Xinglan."
The room quieted instantly. Xinglan walked forward calmly, chin high, expression sharp as always.
The Awakener placed his hand on her head.
Light flared — bright, controlled, not wild but precise.
"Martial Soul: Stargod Sword"
His brows lifted slightly.
"Innate soul power: Rank 9."
Gasps. Even the bucket-boy lifted his head dramatically.
Xinglan didn't smile. She bowed politely and returned to her seat.
Wulin stared at her in awe.
So cool.
Then the teacher called:
"Tang Wulin. Your turn."
Wulin stumbled up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. The class giggled.
He stood in front of the Awakener, heart pounding.
"Relax," the man said gently. "Deep breath. That's right."
Wulin closed his eyes. Air trembled faintly around him.
A pulse — a beat like a distant drum. Something deep, heavy, ancient. Something golden flickered underneath his skin, faint and quick like lightning beneath water.
The Awakener's brow furrowed.
Then—
A weak blue-green light shimmered in Wulin's hands. A small vine unfurled, fragile and trembling.
Whispers filled the room immediately.
"Blue Silver Grass…"
"Trash soul…"
"Same as those kids who never get anywhere…"
"Poor Wulin…" Wulin stared at the plant in his palms.
"…Oh."
Blue Silver Grass drooped, wilted, unimpressive. The Awakener swallowed.
"Martial Soul: Blue Silver Grass," he confirmed. "Innate soul power… Rank 3."
Soft disappointment spread through the classroom like a cold mist. Someone snorted. "Told you he'd get something pathetic."
Wulin's fingers curled around the fragile stem.He forced a tiny smile.
"It's… not so bad, right?"
Silence.
Until— Ye Xinglan spoke, voice steady and cutting through the murmurs like a sword.
"At least he has soul power," she said. "Some don't."
The Awakened Bucket Boy nodded. "True! Bucket solidarity!"
The entire class turned to stare at him.
"…What? We're a minority."
The Awakener placed a hand on Wulin's shoulder. "There are no useless spirits. Only Masters that give up."
"Work hard. You may surprise them yet." Wulin blinked rapidly, trying not to cry.
Xinglan poked his forehead as he passed her desk.
"Don't sulk," she said. "Smile. You look better when you do."
Wulin sniffed and gave a tiny, broken smile. "Right. Tactical happiness."
"Tactical?" she echoed.
"It's for survival." Xinglan's lips twitched — almost a smile.
"You're ridiculous."
But her voice was soft.
.
Ye Xinglan sat on the low stone steps outside her home, legs swinging back and forth.
Her wooden sword lay beside her.
Spirit Awakening Day was over.
Everyone had been loud.Too loud.
She frowned and poked the ground with her shoe.
Tang Wulin's face kept popping into her head.
Not the plant.Not the whispers.
His face.
The way he'd tried to smile even when it looked like it hurt.
"That was dumb," she muttered.
She picked up a small pebble and tossed it.It bounced once and disappeared into the gutter.
Blue Silver Grass.
People said it was weak.
Xinglan didn't really understand why that mattered so much.
Weak things still grew.
She remembered the Awakener's hand shaking a little.
Just a little.
That was weird.
She tilted her head, then shrugged.
Adults were strange.
She grabbed her sword and stood up.
Tomorrow, she'd train.
Tomorrow, she'd make sure Wulin didn't run so much.
And if someone chased him again—
Her grip tightened.
She didn't like bullies.
She walked inside without another thought.
.
Later, Wulin walked home between his parents, the sky gray and heavy above the ocean.
"So?" Tang Ziran asked gently.
Wulin stared at his hands.
"Blue Silver Grass," he whispered. "Rank 3."
Lang Yue squeezed his hand.
"Then we'll work harder."
"Rank doesn't decide your future," Ziran added. "What does is what you do next."
Wulin nodded, swallowing hard.
"…I'll get stronger," he said quietly. "No matter what."