As Qin Feng and hundreds of millions of other geniuses gathered on a virtual plain where a storm was brewing, all quietly awaiting the start of the selection round.
On countless different planets and star systems across the vast territory of the human Empire, all unimaginably distant from Competition Planet 1, a viewing frenzy of unprecedented scale was simultaneously unfolding.
As the most prestigious and wide-reaching Martial Dao tournament for the younger generation, officially hosted by the Ultramarines Chapter, the Starry Sky Cup’s influence extended far beyond the circle of Martial Artists. It had become a national spectacle that captivated the entire Empire.
Official media outlets and private streaming platforms in every major Star Zone featured the competition’s livestream in their most prominent and important slots.
...
Planet Qiming.
Qiming Metropolitan Area, Central Business District.
A skyscraper thousands of meters tall, constructed entirely of crystallized glass, shot up from the ground. A holographic projection at its peak cyclically displayed three words in a flamboyant, cursive script: "Qiming Watch Party."
This was the largest and most luxurious public viewing center on Planet Qiming.
On the building’s top floor, inside a VIP suite with elegant decor and a superb view, three figures sat quietly on comfortable levitating sofas. Their gazes were all fixed upon the massive holographic screen that took up the entire wall in front of them.
The screen was split into countless small frames, each one corresponding to a young Martial Artist from Planet Qiming who was currently competing.
These three were none other than Qin Feng’s father, Qin Dahai; his uncle, Wang Ming; and his aunt, Li Juan.
Time had been merciless, carving deep lines into each of their faces.
The change in Qin Dahai was the most striking.
His temples were already snow-white, and the weathered wrinkles on his face were as deep as if carved by a knife.
Though his years of practicing the Martial Dao had kept his posture ramrod straight, his once eagle-sharp eyes now held the gentle serenity of old age.
Wang Ming, sitting beside him, had aged much better in comparison.
He was now a well-known Level 3 Power Armor Designer on Planet Qiming, with a successful career and an affluent lifestyle.
But even so, he could not completely defy the ravages of time. There were more than a few silver strands in his meticulously styled hair, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were clearly visible in the light of the holographic screen.
His power had also reached the level of a Fifth-level Martial Artist, similar to Qin Dahai. Both had practiced an intermediate Acupoint Opening Method, and their vitality indexes had just barely surpassed the one-hundred-point mark.
He was, however, a full ten years younger than Qin Dahai.
As for Li Juan, she also practiced the Martial Dao and used various high-tech skincare products to maintain her appearance, but the weariness and exhaustion etched between her brows were impossible to hide.
At this moment, all three of them were staring intently at the screen.
Wang Ming and Li Juan’s eyes darted back and forth across the numerous frames, searching for their two sons, who had also made them proud by successfully enrolling in a Top 100 Star Martial Arts University.
Qin Dahai’s gaze, however, was locked firmly on a single frame from the very start.
In that frame, a young man with a straight posture and a resolute expression stood with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting quietly.
Even though the frame was small, and even though they were separated by a vast Star River, the bone-deep familiarity allowed Qin Dahai to recognize him at a single glance. It was his son, Qin Feng.
The atmosphere in the suite was quiet, with only the commentator’s impassioned voice echoing through the air.
"Our Xiaohao and Xiaojie signed up for the competition this time, too."
Wang Ming pulled his gaze away from the screen and broke the silence, his voice a mixture of anticipation and worry. "I wonder if those two will be lucky enough to run into their older cousin in the later rounds."
"Sigh..."
Upon hearing this, Qin Dahai let out a complex sigh.
He turned to his brother-in-law, a man ten years his junior, and said with a mix of envy and emotion, "These kids are the ones really forging ahead. To be so young and already have the required Mental Power to step into the sixth-level Soaring Realm... Unlike us. At this rate, I doubt our Mental Power will ever be up to par in this lifetime."
His words carried the bittersweet resignation of a Martial Artist, a hero in his twilight years.
The path of the Martial Dao was just that cruel.
Often, a single, casual choice in one’s youth—the slightest difference in a passing thought—could have consequences that would snowball, magnifying infinitely until they formed an insurmountable chasm.
Perhaps the source of it all could be traced back to the very beginning: the "tracking policy" that sorted students heading from middle school to high school.
If you failed to test into a Martial Arts High School, you had no choice but to give up your Martial Dao dream and become just another cog in the vast machine of the Empire.
You would end up like the billions of ordinary people: go to a regular university, find a regular job, get married, have children, and spend your life toiling just to make a living...
The pressures of life would gradually wear away at one’s once-fervent Martial Arts Heart.
More importantly, without the systematic learning provided by a Martial Arts High School, it was difficult to develop a daily habit of practicing Meditation.
By the time one grew older and their physical functions began to decline, even if they were lucky enough to complete the acupoint-opening and merging stages by relying on a mountain of resources, starting to cultivate Mental Power from scratch—a discipline requiring absolute focus and a mind free of worldly distractions—was another matter entirely. The speed of improvement would be agonizingly slow, a nigh-impossible task.