Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Five: The Dilemma

"Little Jue, have you decided which grade of cultivation manual you want to buy?" Mother Wang was just as elated. A son is a piece of flesh fallen from his mother's body; how could she not know how hard her child had worked all these years? As an ordinary mother unable to help in any other way, she could only watch and feel the pain in her heart.

Wang Jue furrowed his brow, hesitating. "It's not necessary. Cultivation manuals for martial artists are too expensive. I remember that everyone who breaks through to the Body Tempering Realm can receive a basic manual."

"It’s alright. The better the cultivation manual, the smoother your path will be, and the greater your achievements," Father Wang said, still immersed in the joy of the good news, unaware of whether their family could afford to support a martial artist's cultivation.

He was just a noodle shop owner, and had no idea how expensive things for martial artists could be. He only remembered what his regular customers would often say: the better the manual, the further the child could go in the future.

He had never dared to hope his own child could break through—after all, it had been over nine years. If a breakthrough was possible, it would have happened long ago.

Who would have thought it would happen so suddenly today? The news really stunned and delighted him. Other people's children could do it, so why not his own, who had worked even harder?

No matter what, the family finally had a martial artist. Even if he had to sell everything, he would buy the best cultivation manual for his child!

Wang Jue’s eyes showed a trace of bitterness. "Dad, you’re not a martial artist, so you don’t know how expensive everything related to them is."

"No matter how much it costs, as long as the family can manage, even if I have to sell all we own, I’ll buy it for you," Father Wang insisted, not thinking twice about it. He could overlook food, drink, and clothing, but when it came to his son's future, he couldn’t dare to be careless—even if it meant borrowing money.

Wang Jue, having inherited the memories of his predecessor, was all too aware of their family’s situation. His father's words warmed his heart, but he still decided to dissuade him. "It's really not necessary. Even the cheapest Black Iron level manual costs a hundred thousand. That's simply not something our family can afford."

"Hey, it’s just a hundred thousand… wait, how much did you say the cheapest one is?"

"A hundred thousand..."

As soon as he finished, Father Wang's smile froze, Mother Wang was stunned, and even Wang Xiaoyu, the little sister not yet of school age, stared with wide eyes—obviously shocked by the news!

Wang Jue didn’t want his family, already not well-off, to suffer a heavy blow on his account. More importantly, he knew his father’s character. If he didn’t explain things clearly, his father might secretly try to buy the manual at all costs.

"There are seven grades of martial cultivation manuals: Basic, Black Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, and Diamond," Wang Jue explained, determined to make things clear. "A basic manual only costs a hundred outside, but even the cheapest Black Iron manual is a hundred thousand. Bronze is a million, Silver ten million, Gold over a hundred million, Platinum can’t be bought even if you have the money, and as for Diamond level, that’s out of the question."

Seeing his parents and sister so overwhelmed by this, he dropped another bombshell: "And just like with cultivation manuals, it's the same with martial skills. In fact, obtaining martial skills and manuals is even harder. You either hunt star beasts in the wild, hoping for a lucky drop, or you have to get them from secret realms."

"You’re ordinary people, so you might not understand just how brutal the martial world is. Out there, martial artists not only face star beasts, but must always be on guard against other humans—because out in the wild, killing for treasure is all too common."

"That’s why, even though countless martial artists go out every day to hunt star beasts, less than half ever return. Besides those who die in star beasts’ maws, even more are killed by their fellow humans."

"Martial artists and ordinary people may live in the same world, but if you look closely, they are really two completely different worlds. The world of martial artists is harsh, while ordinary people live in peace and stability."

Father Wang said nothing, set down his chopsticks, and went to the balcony to smoke alone.

Mother Wang forced a smile, her eyes full of undisguised worry. "Little Jue, is it really as dangerous as you say to be a martial artist? Maybe you shouldn’t go into the wild just yet. Why not spend more time cultivating here? I’m not stopping you from going, I just want you to wait until your strength is higher, so it’s less dangerous."

"I know, you don’t need to worry," Wang Jue replied, doing his best to keep his tone calm.

As for the system, he had no intention of telling anyone, not even his family. Although he was still confused about how it worked, he had already decided to figure out the right way to use it as soon as possible.

In the past, perhaps he would have chosen to be an ordinary person just like his parents. But now, having broken through and gained the system, he believed that, with its help, his cultivation path would be much easier than anyone else’s.

Of course, that was only if he figured out where to obtain Star Origin.

The system was powerful, but in his eyes, it was just a martial arts platform—Star Origin was what could truly enhance his strength.

As the saying goes, even the best cook cannot work without rice.

With the system but no Star Origin, Wang Jue could only watch helplessly, unable to do anything.

That’s why he had already decided: if he couldn’t figure out how to get Star Origin, he’d simply live as an ordinary person.

The saying “a scholar is poor, a warrior is rich” was true everywhere.

This wasn’t just talk. Given their family’s circumstances, even if they did everything to support him, the odds of truly succeeding in cultivation were slim to none.

Rather than dragging his family down, struggling fruitlessly, he might as well remain an ordinary person from the start. Perhaps building up his health was good enough. This was his truest thought.

When he was seven, his talent was tested as Scarlet grade, lower tier—at best, a little stronger than someone with no talent. Compared to those with real talent, he was firmly at the bottom.

He had to admit the system was a good thing. Just a bit of Star Origin could upgrade his talent. Now, relying on the system, his talent had risen from lower to middle tier.

But until he figured out how to obtain Star Origin, the system was little more than an ornament.

Even after his talent improved, and his cultivation speed increased by at least double, it still wasn’t easy to advance. Let alone keeping up with those whose talent was one or even several major tiers above his—what kind of cultivation speed must they have?

Wang Jue knew that only with the system's help could he catch up to them. Without it, he might as well live peacefully as an ordinary person.

Every man dreams of being a hero; Wang Jue was no exception. As a transmigrator who had inherited the predecessor’s memories, he knew this world was on a whole different level from Earth—a world where the strong ruled. This inevitably stirred his competitive spirit.

At first, he hadn’t realized how hard his cultivation journey would be. Only after inheriting the predecessor’s memories did he finally understand.

If difficulties were divided into normal, hard, hell, and nightmare, then he was undoubtedly at nightmare level.

He had some self-awareness about the challenge. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried before—he had spent nine whole years, enduring countless hardships, just to barely break through to the first stage of Body Tempering, only to die from overexertion.

This experience made the transmigrated Wang Jue truly realize that sometimes, only by really giving your all can you understand that your efforts may count for nothing.

Hard work doesn’t guarantee success. But if you give up, at least you’ll be comfortable.

He suddenly remembered a famous saying from his Earth days: genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.

This phrase had inspired countless people, including Wang Jue himself.

Until one day, by chance, he read the second half online: but that one percent inspiration is the most important, even more so than the ninety-nine percent perspiration!

At that moment, Wang Jue almost doubted his entire life.

He was grateful, though. Motivated by the first half of the quote, he had studied diligently, got into a top university, and graduated smoothly.

But Azure Star was not Earth.

Here, no one understood better than he how important talent was.

It was like ordinary people, knowing they had no talent, still working hard at cultivation—could they ever really become martial artists?

The answer was obvious.

They could not.

"Being able to cultivate is better than not, and don’t mind your father’s attitude. He’s always had a knot in his heart about not becoming a martial artist, so he’s pinned his hopes on you. Give him a couple days, and he’ll figure it out," Mother Wang said, seeing the look in Wang Jue’s eyes, her worry growing clearer.

"I don’t know anything about martial cultivation, so I don’t know what to say. Here, I’ll give you another five hundred to make it a thousand. Take the money—whether to hang out with friends or look for cultivation supplies, it’s up to you. If you want to keep cultivating, then do it well. I have no big wishes in this life; all I want is for our family to live together in peace."

Wang Jue gripped the thousand credits his mother had insisted on giving him, feelings complicated.

A thousand credits might not be much to other families, and to a martial artist, it was a mere drop in the ocean. But to their family, it was a significant sum.

Their noodle shop might sell a hundred or two bowls a day, at ten credits a bowl, so they’d make a thousand or two daily. But after deducting the cost of ingredients, they’d be lucky to have a hundred or two left.

Now, the thousand credits in his hand meant his parents had worked five or six days for nothing.