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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Crippled Youth

A gentle spring breeze blew. It was early spring, a time when all living things were reawakening and rain nourished the earth. The air was exceptionally fresh, and a powerful vitality permeated the entire Extreme Martial Continent.

In the Xuanling Empire, within Luofeng City's Mu Family Courtyard, the door to a secluded cottage was gently pushed open by a youth in white. Following him out was a woman in green. She was gentle and refined, with an elegant and dignified bearing. Her dark hair was coiled into a bun, and her beautiful face held a trace of worry, though it was overshadowed by her deep affection.

"Chen'Er, it's only the beginning of spring. The winter chill still lingers, so be careful not to catch cold."

The woman's gentle voice, as soft as a spring breeze, brought a touch of warmth to the white-robed youth's heart.

"Mom, it's fine. The weather is getting warmer, and I just want to get some fresh air."

The youth in white was about twelve years old and had an extremely slender frame. His skin was fair enough to make most women feel ashamed of their own, but this fairness wasn't normal. It was a pathological paleness.

Seeing her son's gaunt silhouette, a flash of guilt crossed the green-robed woman's eyes, which seemed to glisten with unshed tears.

"Wan'Er, don't worry. As long as I draw breath, I will never let any harm come to Chen'Er." With a soft sigh, a man in blue robes emerged from around the corner of the house. He had a resolute expression. He gently took the green-robed woman's hand and spoke with conviction.

"Thank you, Brother Feng. I'll be content as long as our child can live a healthy life. But..." The woman, Wan'Er, leaned gently against the blue-robed man's chest, her voice trembling slightly.

"You have to have faith in Chen'Er." The blue-robed man looked up, his own red-rimmed eyes also fixed on the distant youth, lost in thought.

These two were the parents of the youth in white: Mufeng and Bi Wan.

He walked out of the courtyard and looked at the lush greenery all around, muttering to himself, 'It's spring. Heh... They say spring is a season full of vitality, but where is mine?'

The youth in white shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. 'I've been cooped up inside all winter. It's time to go for a walk.' He sighed and slowly made his way out of the courtyard. He was heading for the back mountain. Only there could he find some peace.

"Well, well, if it isn't our family's cripple, the Fourth Young Master! I haven't seen you all winter. Oh, my apologies. Fourth Young Master, I pay my respects." He hadn't gotten far when an arrogant, though remarkably plain-looking, youth spoke with a mocking expression. Behind him, a boy in fine blue robes, surrounded by a crowd, walked over. This boy was about thirteen and quite handsome, with refined features. His thin lips, however, hinted at a cruel nature, and he regarded the strolling youth in white with contempt.

The youth in white frowned slightly but paid the group no mind, simply continuing on his way.

"Hm? Fourth Brother, what's wrong? You don't even greet your Second Brother? Don't tell me you've been cooped up all winter and forgotten who I am?" the blue-robed youth said, his tone apathetic as he stared intently at the youth in white.

"Then again, I suppose only someone as idle as you has time for a leisurely stroll, Fourth Brother. It's early spring, the birds are singing, the flowers are fragrant... a perfect time for the maids to admire the blossoms. Ah, if only I had as much free time as you. What a pity." The blue-robed youth's thin lips curled into a disdainful smile. The meaning behind his words was clear: this was a time for maids to admire flowers. He, as a man, needed to be focused on his Cultivation. Only a worthless cripple like the youth in white would have time to stroll about admiring flowers like a maid.

At these words, a flash of anger lit the white-robed youth's eyes, but years of ridicule had taught him restraint, and he quickly suppressed it.

He had no choice but to endure. The youth in blue before him was Mu Rongxuan, the Mu Family's Second Young Master and their publicly acknowledged number one genius. At only thirteen, he had already reached the level of a Seventh-Ring Martial Disciple. Even in the entirety of Luofeng City, Mu Rongxuan was worthy of the name "genius."

It was a well-known fact that it took nine years for a person's body to mature. Only at the age of nine could one begin Body Forging. Body Forging was the most fundamental form of training, invigorating the body through constant practice of the basics to lay a solid foundation for the path of Cultivation.

This foundational period typically took two to three years, meaning one would only become a qualified Martial Disciple at age eleven or twelve. Yet Mu Rongxuan had broken through to the Seventh-Ring Martial Disciple level in just two years, proving his genius-level Cultivation Talent. On the Extreme Martial Continent, martial prowess reigned supreme. Strength was everything; it was the right to be heard. With enough strength, you could trample anyone underfoot.

The Martial Disciple was the most basic rank on the Extreme Martial Continent. Reaching this rank meant you were not a cripple and could begin your Cultivation journey. The ten realms above Martial Disciple were, in order: Martial Artist, Martial Master, Grand Martial Master, Martial Spirit, Martial King, Martial Sect, Martial Emperor, Martial Venerable, Martial Saint, and finally, Martial Emperor. Each realm was further divided into nine minor stages, referred to as "Rings."

When one broke through from Martial Disciple to Martial Artist, activating their Primordial Power would cause Martial Rings condensed from that power to appear at their feet. The number of Martial Rings determined one's Cultivation Tier. One Martial Ring signified a First-Ring Martial Artist, while nine signified a Nine-Ring Martial Artist. Every time one advanced to a new Great Tier, the color of their Martial Rings would change.

Red for Martial Artists, orange for Martial Masters, yellow for Grand Martial Masters, green for Martial Spirits, cyan for Martial Kings, blue for Martial Sects, purple for Martial Emperors, silver for Martial Venerables, gold for Martial Saints, and rainbow for the ultimate Martial Emperor. As for Martial Disciples, they were colorless because they could not yet absorb Primordial Qi.

Essentially, ninety-nine percent of people could reach the Martial Disciple rank; it was practically a given. But he couldn't. He was a cripple known to all, a good-for-nothing doomed from birth to a life of mediocrity.

Thinking of this, he had no desire to stay a moment longer. 'We're from two different worlds.'

The youth in white started walking again, his pace slightly quicker. But after only three steps, a figure flashed in front of him, blocking his path. The youth looked up. It was a familiar silhouette: Mu Hu, the arrogant boy who had first started the taunts.

"Hey, Fourth Young Master, I paid you my respects and you don't even say a word. What, you look down on me? Oh, that's right. With your heaven-defying Cultivation speed, I could never hope to keep up," Mu Hu said with a perfectly straight face, prompting a burst of derisive laughter from the crowd behind him.

One had to admit, while Mu Hu's looks were average, his talent for insults had reached the peak of perfection.

Seeing how things were unfolding, the youth in white gave a bitter smile. 'Looks like I won't be getting out of this unscathed,' he thought. He simply closed his eyes, resigning himself to their vile taunts. 'Even if they resort to fists and feet, it doesn't matter. I'm already a cripple. What more can they do to me?'

When Mu Hu saw the white-robed youth's 'I've-given-up' posture, he chuckled. "Well now... what's our Fourth Young Master up to? Putting on such a calm and indifferent act? You even closed your eyes. Are you saying we're not worthy of you looking at us? Brothers, is that what you think he means?"

"That's what it looks like! The Fourth Young Master never gives us the time of day," someone immediately chimed in.

"Yeah! Fourth Young Master, we won't stand for it! What gives you the right to look down on us?"

"Why don't you fight the Fourth Young Master, Mu Hu? How about letting him use both his hands and feet?"

"In fact, don't even move! Just let the Fourth Young Master hit you. If he can knock you down, we'll admit he's strong enough to look down on us!"

"Alright, you're on." Mu Hu chuckled and turned to the youth in white. "Fourth Young Master, I'll stand right here and won't move. If you can knock me down, I'll let you leave. What's more, from now on, I'll bow respectfully whenever I see you. If you don't dare... well, that's simple too. As the price for looking down on us, you'll have to crawl between the legs of every person here."

At this, Mu Rongxuan, who had been watching with a smile, suddenly frowned. 'Even if the Fourth is a good-for-nothing, he's still my cousin. Making my own cousin crawl between my lackey's legs... isn't that a slap in my own face?' Thinking this, Mu Rongxuan's voice grew heavy. "Mu Hu, what did you say?"

Mu Hu froze. He wasn't stupid and instantly realized his mistake. He quickly corrected himself, "Er, never mind. If you don't dare, then as the price for looking down on us, you'll have to crawl between the Second Young Master's legs."

Mu Rongxuan still felt Mu Hu was going a bit too far, but he found this proposal much less disagreeable.

The youth in white, still standing in place, had a face like iron. He snapped his eyes open, his piercing gaze locking onto Mu Hu as he bit out each word, "I. Ac. Cept!"

Startled by the youth's sudden glare, Mu Hu instinctively flinched, almost taking two steps back before catching himself. Annoyed at his momentary loss of composure, he cursed under his breath and said, "I'll stand right here. If you can knock me down, you win."

With that, Mu Hu settled into a firm horse stance, took a deep breath, and clasped his hands behind his back. "Come on."

In truth, the youth in white had regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. 'Although this Mu Hu is far weaker than Mu Rongxuan, he's still a Peak Third-Ring Martial Disciple, just a hair's breadth from advancing to the Fourth Ring. His fundamentals are solid. How am I supposed to knock him down? With this crippled body of mine?'

The youth in white sighed. A slight breeze blew past, lifting the sleeve of his right arm. It fluttered in the wind, as light as a feather...

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