“Coming…” Rising from the stove bed, Bubai hastily grabbed his already bundled makeshift cloth pouch and made his way to the door.

With a tug, he pulled it open, greeted by the raised fist on its way to pound on the door. The fist faltered right before it struck him, transforming into a palm that landed with a resounding slap!

"...finally awake?!” A voice dripping with sarcasm reached his reverberating ears, “Did you think playing dead would let you stay any longer? In your dreams! Ptui!"

Bubai felt a glob of spittle landing unceremoniously on his face, prompting his eyes to trace up the rustic cyan robe, landing on its owner’s pudgy face, only to have his head forcefully smacked down moments after.

"What's up with that look, huh?" the pudgy man sneered. “Wanna rebel?!”

Bubai kept his head bowed, his gaze fixed on the dirt floor. "No, Manager Ren," he replied, his voice barely audible over the whispers of the watching crowd.

Manager Ren’s grin widened, a cruel twist to his lips. "Hah, at least you know your place! Be grateful that I’m not digging those dirty eyes out. Now get out. I don’t want to see you by the time I return, or else!"

Manager Ren turned to walk away, hands clasped behind him in an air of superiority.

With his head still bowed in deference, Bubai wiped away the saliva clinging to his face and stepped out of his humble hut, prompting the crowd to part ways.

As he made his way through the throng of young apprentices, their mocking stares pierced through him like daggers. They whispered amongst themselves, casting judgmental glances at their eldest counterpart.

“Ho, that useless bum can still endure after that...”

“Yea, I woke up early thinking there would be a good show.”

“Hey, I wonder who will be the next negative teaching material...”

Bubai paid them no mind, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.

He had once been an aspiring disciple just like them.

Unfortunately, despite his efforts, he found himself trapped at Qi refining level zero, a stage he humorously labeled the "haven't even gotten started" phase.

With a spiritual root and cultivating in a place with relatively abundant spiritual power such as the Cloud Sword Sect, even the most mediocre cultivator could usually progress to the first stage of Qi refining within years, but he remained stuck, his potential seemingly locked away!

Eight years of arduous practice, countless nights spent in solitary cultivation, and yet, he hadn't made the slightest progress. Had he not been brought in by a foundation establishment senior, he would have been kicked out long ago!

But staying wasn’t much better. Facing the daily ridicule of others, watching his fellows entering the outer sect and being replaced batch by batch, being pushed around by everyone and used as a negative example…

He endured… all just to stay longer for that slim glimmer of hope.

But now, the initial leniency afforded to him as the beneficiary of a foundation establishment cultivator's favor had long since evaporated. The sect, unforgiving in its pursuit of excellence, showed no mercy to those who failed to meet its worse standards...

Bubai extended a trembling hand, offering a spirit stone to the middle-aged man dressed in a clean white robe, addressing him with a polite bow, "Senior brother, thank you for your trouble."

The man accepted the spirit stone, casually giving it a toss before stowing it away in his pouch.

He gave Bubai a nod, “Pretty witty. Too bad you don’t have the talent...”

Without further ado, the man waved his hand, and a gleaming sword strapped to his back spiraled towards his feet. He leaped onto the blade, hovering effortlessly inches above the ground as if defying gravity.

"Get on," he gestured toward his back, his tone brooking no argument.

Bubai scrambled onto the sword. The man glanced back at him, a hint of warning in his eyes. "Hold on tight. Don't blame me if you fall off midway."

Before Bubai could utter a word of acknowledgment, the man raised his two index fingers skyward-

Whoosh! The journey kicked off with a rush of wind. The sword shot off into the vast expanse of the sky, slicing through the air like a comet blazing a trail through the skies.

As the turbulent wind buffeted against him, Bubai clutched his bag tightly and gripped onto the man's waist for dear life.

Yet, he still steeled his heart, turning around to take a look… only to see the empty mountains, the truth hidden beneath a veil.

But he knew this had been his home. Yet now…

Carrying his patchwork cloth bundle now tied to a wooden stick, Bubai halted in his tracks at the edge of the ancient forest.

Turning his head, his reluctant gaze fixed upon the distant dream, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

His silence was punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant echoes of beasts prowling in the endless forest, their roars mixed with the faint cries of the newly arriving disciples undergoing the cruel entrance trial.

Occasionally, he caught sight of neon trails etching through the foggy heavens, a celestial sign of the foundation establishment disciples soaring on their refined swords and artifacts in the white sea above the mortal realm, supervising the newcomers.

But with the injection of fresh blood, it was also time for the rotten skin to be shed.