One evening, as Ye Chen returned from the mountains as usual, he encountered someone in the alley.
A boy of similar age, dressed in a white martial uniform, a short sword at his waist. He looked spirited and vigorous. Standing at the alley's entrance, he examined Ye Chen with appraising eyes.
"You're Ye Chen?" The boy's voice was crisp, carrying a hint of defiance.
Ye Chen nodded. "And you are?"
"Bai Yu." The boy raised his chin slightly, a touch of pride in his manner. "I heard you awakened the Space-Time attribute."
Ye Chen said nothing, simply looking at him quietly.
Bai Yu, discomfited by the gaze, snorted. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not here to cause trouble. I just wanted to see what's different about someone everyone mocks."
"And what did you see?" Ye Chen asked.
Bai Yu looked him over, his gaze lingering briefly on his rough hands and patched clothes before turning away with a dismissive expression. "Nothing special, really."
Ye Chen smiled but did not retort.
Bai Yu, caught off guard by his response, hesitated. After a moment, he said, "I'll be at the selection exam in three months."
"Oh."
"Aren't you afraid?" Bai Yu sounded a little indignant. "I've been training at my family's compound since I was little. My Wind Lingyuan is a naturally combat-oriented attribute. My father says I'm a once-in-a-century prodigy."
Ye Chen looked at him and suddenly asked, "Then why are you telling me this?"
Bai Yu paused, then turned his head away, his voice slightly muffled. "Because… I don't want to beat someone who's too weak. Winning that way is meaningless."
Ye Chen laughed.
This boy, despite his sharp tongue, had a pride—a pride that disdained bullying the weak. In this world where strength was everything, that was rather rare.
"Don't worry," Ye Chen said. "On exam day, I won't make it easy for you."
Bai Yu's head snapped back. He stared at Ye Chen for several seconds, then grinned. "Good. Don't cry when you lose!"
With that, he turned and ran off, his white figure quickly disappearing at the alley's end.
Ye Chen watched his retreating back, his smile slowly fading.
Bai Yu. Wind Lingyuan. Once-in-a-century prodigy.
These details combined and analyzed rapidly in his mind. He needed more information—about Bai Yu's fighting style, about Wind Lingyuan's characteristics, about how to face a true prodigy in combat.
But he was not nervous.
Two and a half months of training had given him sufficient confidence. Perhaps he could not defeat Bai Yu, but he would not lose disgracefully. And the exam would not be a single battle. What mattered was not defeating any one person but proving his own worth.
"Fifteen days left." Ye Chen took a deep breath and quickened his pace toward home.
He needed to use this final time to integrate all his training results.
In the next fifteen days, Ye Chen shifted his focus from cultivation to combat simulation.
He constructed a simple training ground in the valley using branches and stones, envisioning various combat scenarios. He imagined himself facing different types of opponents—power types, speed types, technique types—and strategized how to counter them with Space-Time attributes.
He discovered that the advantage of Space-Time attributes lay not in "direct confrontation" but in "information advantage."
Time Perception allowed him to predict opponents' moves. Spatial Perception gave him command of the battlefield's entire situation. While opponents still considered their next move, he could already see three seconds into the future.
"It's like playing chess," Ye Chen summarized to himself. "I don't need to be stronger than my opponent. I only need to see farther."
But he also clearly recognized his weakness: insufficient Lingyuan reserves.
If he activated both Time Perception and Spatial Perception simultaneously, he could last at most thirty seconds. After thirty seconds, with his Lingyuan exhausted, he would be at his opponent's mercy.
"So the battle must end within thirty seconds."
Ye Chen began designing his combat sequence.
First second: Activate Spatial Perception to grasp the opponent's position and surroundings.
Seconds two to five: Observe the opponent's movement habits, predict their attack patterns.
Seconds six to ten: Use Spatial Perception to locate the opponent's openings while using Time Perception to predict their reactions.
Seconds ten to twenty: Launch the attack. If Space Cutting succeeded, the battle might end in seconds.
Seconds twenty to thirty: If the first attack failed, immediately retreat, reassess, and seek another opportunity.
After thirty seconds: If still not won, then defeat.
"It's a gamble." Ye Chen looked at his own plan and smiled wryly. "But it's my only choice."
He rehearsed this sequence again and again until every movement became muscle memory. With his eyes closed, he could feel the thirty-second rhythm—what to do when, when to pause and reassess, when to commit everything.
He even began simulating Bai Yu's fighting style.
Wind Lingyuan, speed type. Bai Yu would certainly exploit his speed advantage, closing in rapidly for continuous attacks. His strikes would not be heavy but would be fast—too fast for opponents to react.
"Against a speed type, I cannot fight head-on. Only prediction."
Ye Chen closed his eyes, picturing Bai Yu. The boy, standing in the alley, had leaned slightly forward, his toes unconsciously lifting—the habit of a speed-type, always ready to explode into motion.
"He'll charge in the first second," Ye Chen simulated. "If I can predict his path with Time Perception in that moment, then use Spatial Perception to find his landing point…"
He opened his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Maybe I can give him a surprise."
On the last night, Ye Chen did not go to the valley.
He sat on the steps outside his home, gazing at the star-filled sky. Yuanling Continent's night sky was different from his past life—no familiar constellations, only countless unknown points of light silently twinkling in the darkness.
Lin Wanqing emerged from the house, sat beside him, and gently placed her arm around his shoulders.
"Tomorrow's the exam. Nervous?"
Ye Chen shook his head. "No."
Lin Wanqing smiled. "You've always been like this—keeping everything inside. I've never seen you cry since you were small."
"What good would crying do?" Ye Chen said softly.
Lin Wanqing was silent for a moment. "When your father was young, he was just like this. Afraid of nothing, carrying everything on his own shoulders. Back then, I thought, how foolish, this man—carrying everything alone, isn't he tired?"
She paused, her voice growing softer. "Only later did I understand—he wasn't foolish. He just didn't want us to worry."
Ye Chen said nothing, merely leaning closer to his mother.
"Chen'er." Lin Wanqing's voice trembled slightly. "No matter what happens tomorrow, you will always be my pride. Do you understand?"
Ye Chen nodded.
Inside, Ye Haoran leaned against the doorframe, watching the mother and son in the moonlight. He said nothing.
His expression was complex—pride, tenderness, and an indefinable anticipation.
The night breeze carried the sounds of insects from distant fields.
Tomorrow would be the day that decided his fate.