Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Two: The Golden Cheat—Please Recommend and Add to Favorites

The next day.

The sky was shrouded in dawn's haze, the sun just beginning to rise, painting the horizon in hues of purple and gold.

In Wang Jue's room, he sat cross-legged on his bed, hands resting upon his knees, assuming the posture for cultivation.

It was the universally taught foundational breathing technique, imparted to every child after their aptitude test, regardless of talent. Teachers always ensured that this method was passed on.

Time slipped by quietly. Wang Jue’s face gradually flushed, his breath growing rapid, sweat beading upon his body. When the sun had fully ascended, he collapsed onto the bed in exhaustion, panting heavily.

“Whew…”

He exhaled softly, a joy impossible to hide flashing in his eyes. “Nine years… I can finally sense the power of the stars. It feels exquisite—though far too faint.”

“I truly envy those with greater gifts. Their speed at cultivation must be astonishing…”

Wang Jue sat up, leaning against the wall beside the head of his bed. He gazed outside at the violet sunrise, morning light spilling through the window and illuminating his handsome, picturesque face. “I’ve reached the Body Tempering stage. I’ll tell Father later. At last, I can purchase proper cultivation techniques.”

As he pondered, Wang Jue’s brow furrowed slightly, annoyance creeping across his features.

Illness had kept him from school for several days; from inherited memories, he knew the exam was only two months away.

Though the transition from middle school to high school lacked the fervor of the college entrance exam, every student still aspired to attend the best schools. Wang Jue’s ambition was Yong’an Academy.

Jiangnan City was vast. Towns had many high schools, but most were ordinary. Martial arts high schools, known as martial academies, were renowned, especially among the top hundred. Yong’an Academy, ranked ninety-ninth, was the closest elite school to Peaceful Town.

If one’s cultivation reached the fifth level of Body Tempering, there was a slim chance of admission—though only those at the seventh or eighth level could be confident. Those who broke through to the Spiritual Essence stage aimed for the top ten martial academies; anything less would hardly interest them.

Among Wang Jue’s peers, the lowest cultivation was the fourth level of Body Tempering; several had reached sixth or seventh. The former would have no trouble entering ordinary high schools, while the latter, barring a mishap, were assured of a place in top academies.

A heavy sense of pressure swept over Wang Jue. Yet he did not falter; his eyes shone with resolve. “Giving up isn’t my way. Who can know what the future holds? I’ll devote myself to cultivation—hopefully, I’ll break through in time for the exams.”

Feeling his strength had returned, Wang Jue ceased his ruminations, climbed off the bed, and stretched.

“Little Jue, breakfast is ready!”

A clear, gentle voice called from outside the door.

“Coming!” Wang Jue replied, turning toward the doorway.

He opened the door to behold a petite girl, her skin fair, hair tied in a ponytail, blocking the threshold. Upon seeing Wang Jue, she immediately spread her arms, pouting cutely, “Big brother, hug!”

Wang Jue recognized from inherited memories his younger sister, Wang Xiaoyu.

He’d felt nervous at first, worried his identity as an ‘imposter’ might be discovered. He wasn’t concerned about fooling his parents—they’d be easier. His sister, however, was the tricky one.

Children’s intuition was said to be sharp. Yet seeing Xiaoyu’s clingy antics, Wang Jue was relieved.

They regarded each other, the elder and the younger. Wang Jue noted the anticipation in his sister’s eyes and gently ruffled her hair.

Watching her glare with big eyes and pout in anger, so adorably, Wang Jue knew when to stop. He scooped her up in his arms and strode toward the living room, teasing, “Xiaoyu, you need to lose weight. You’re getting chubby again!”

“You meanie, put me down!” Wang Xiaoyu struggled, trying to wriggle free, oblivious that her brother’s soul had changed.

Wang Jue hadn’t planned to set her down, but when she flashed her little tiger tooth, he quickly complied.

Once free, Wang Xiaoyu glared at Wang Jue, balled her tiny fists, and punched his thigh, then raced off to the kitchen to complain. “Mom! Brother is so annoying…”

Mother Liu Wenjing paid her no mind, instead urging Wang Jue, “Now you’re up, go wash up and get ready for breakfast.”

Unsuccessful, Wang Xiaoyu, unwilling to give up, cried out to Wang Jianbin, “Dad, Wang Jue is bullying me again. Go scold him!”

She shot Wang Jue a teary glare.

Unable to hold back a smile, Wang Jue ignored his sister’s tantrum and stepped into the bathroom.

Mother peeked from the kitchen; father, sitting on the living room sofa watching the news, exchanged a look with her. Both shook their heads in helpless amusement.

Such scenes occurred several times daily; they were long accustomed, but still felt powerless.

Other siblings got along well, so why were theirs like ‘enemies’?

Meanwhile—

Wang Jue entered the bathroom and closed the door.

Suddenly, a stabbing pain pierced his brain, as if an iron rod had been thrust and twisted inside his skull.

His vision darkened—he clung to the wall to keep from collapsing. The face in the mirror, once handsome, was now ghostly pale, cold sweat streaming, hair soaked and plastered to his brow, eyes filled with agony.

A moment later, another wave of pain struck, sharper than before. Wang Jue clutched his head and dropped to the floor, gritting his teeth, afraid to make a sound lest his parents overhear.

The pain grew, fear rising within him.

He had only just crossed over and done nothing—was he to die of agony?

His body weakened, consciousness fading.

“So this is what dying feels like…”

He tried to force a wry smile, intending to mock himself before death, but his facial muscles were stiff, refusing to move.

“To die in a bathroom—only in novels from my previous life would such a thing happen.”

Boom!

Just as Wang Jue was about to lose consciousness, a thunderous roar erupted in his mind, as if the world itself were being split open. His spirit jolted awake, like drought-stricken earth suddenly watered by fresh springs. His scattered consciousness returned to his body.

His vision cleared with the shock, his awareness restored. He licked his dry lips, thinking, I must have survived.

He steadied himself against the wall and stood shakily, glancing at his reflection.

His face was as pale as paper, hair and clothing drenched, eyes clouded with confusion.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth instinctively, seeing the mirror image mimic him. He let out a bitter laugh. “Looks like I’m really alive. Being alive feels wonderful!”

But what just happened?

He recalled the earth-shattering roar in his mind before he lost consciousness, puzzled.

Something felt different within him—he could sense it clearly, yet the cause eluded him.

He quickly looked in the mirror, searching for any changes.

When he saw his eyes had turned purple, panic seized him.

What? His eyes had shifted from black to violet?

Thinking it a hallucination, Wang Jue rubbed his eyes and looked again.

Damn it, he hadn’t been mistaken!

Was he seeing ghosts?

Before he could make sense of it, something even stranger appeared before him.

[Name: Wang Jue]
[Cultivation: Body Tempering, First Level]
[Talent: Red Grade (Low)]
[Stellar Source: 1]

Wang Jue’s eyes widened, heart racing.

Could it be…?

He swallowed nervously, feeling as if his heart might leap from his throat.

To confirm if what he saw was real, he rubbed his eyes again, resisting the urge to glance at the mirror, instead turning toward the wall.

The panel remained, now transferred from the mirror to the wall.

In that instant, he believed what his previous life’s novels always said:

A golden finger may be delayed, but it never fails to arrive!

If he guessed correctly, this was his golden finger, his cheat.

Could he truly be the Child of Destiny in this world?

Examining the panel, he noticed a green plus sign beside his talent, but nothing next to cultivation.

He paused, took a deep breath, and carefully extended a trembling finger to touch the plus sign.

His finger passed through, touching the wall—no resistance.

Unable to interact.

He blinked in confusion, tried again, but it was like touching air.

How was he supposed to use this?

He was dumbfounded.

Should he try what novels suggested—using spiritual power to control it?

Wishful thinking; reality was harsh.

He attempted to communicate with his mental power, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t sense the faintest trace of it, let alone control it.

Just as he was about to give up, the panel vanished, and he felt a tremendous force stirring in his mind.

Embracing a desperate hope, Wang Jue focused, trying to connect with the immense power in his brain.

But after many attempts, he realized he couldn’t draw upon even the smallest bit of that strength.

Ultimately, he consoled himself, blaming his low cultivation, and resigned himself to disappointment.