King of Creation Chapter 2 - 2 2 Seed Candidate

Chapter 2: Seed Candidate Chapter 2: Seed Candidate While hurrying back to his residence at Hundred Pine Peak with a bundle in tow, Ye Zhen panted heavily like an ox along the steep mountain trail.

Occasionally, servant disciples dressed in gray robes, returning from family visits, sped past Ye Zhen from behind with ease and speed, their faces showing no strain.

With steady breaths and unflushed cheeks, they stirred up intense envy and burning longing deep in Ye Zhen’s heart.

These servant disciples dashed along the mountain paths with enduring breaths, outpacing even Ye Zhen’s full sprint, possessing at least Second Stage cultivation in the Qi Absorption Realm through Blood Training.

In the Martial Arts traditions of the True Profound Continent, bloodlines form the core foundation of every person.

A body might lack bones, flesh, muscles, or skin and still survive, but blood is indispensable.

Bloodline serves as the essential root of one’s life in this world, and the martial path kicks off with Blood Training.

Blood Training for Martial Artists consists of five stages: First Stage Force Training to Strengthen Blood, Second Stage Long Breath Qi Gathering, Third Stage Blood Qi Condensing Bead, Fourth Stage Blood Essence Body Tempering, and Fifth Stage Essence Condensation and Qi Gathering.

Ye Zhen’s current level lingered at Force Training to Strengthen Blood.

Breaking into the Second Stage of Long Breath Qi Gathering would grant him unwavering breath and inexhaustible blood qi, letting him soar across Qiyun Sect’s peaks without a hint of fatigue.

Then, Ye Zhen wouldn’t need to dash over two hours from Hundred Pine Peak to the Mountain Gate.

As fellow disciples overtook him one by one, envy gripped Ye Zhen, yet hope flickered within too.

Should his hidden secret keep thriving, advancing to the Second Stage of Blood Training seemed merely a question of time.

This very secret fueled Ye Zhen’s determination to remain in Qiyun Sect.

Thoughts of that secret spurred Ye Zhen’s pace faster; it had persisted for some time, and the reaping days might be near.

Ye Zhen dashed across eleven peaks, sighing in relief upon spotting a mountain veiled in shadows of colossal pines, some towering ten meters or nearly a hundred high.

He had reached Hundred Pine Peak.

The peak earned its name, and as a servant disciple, Ye Zhen’s routine chores involved chopping the distinctive iron-branch ancient pines there.

Upon entering Hundred Pine Peak, Ye Zhen skipped the main route to his home.

Instead, he veered into the pine woods through a hidden side path.

In a remote, seldom-trod area, he picked a few saplings, stripped away thick needle layers, excavated a deep pit, stashed the two hundred silvers from his parents, and concealed it thoroughly.

Once all was tidied with subtle markers set, Ye Zhen departed, resuming the mountain trail with just the clothes and provisions from his mother, bound for his mid-slope dwelling.

Dusk had fallen by the time Ye Zhen got back to his mountainside home.

The three hundred servant disciples of Hundred Pine Peak had wrapped up their labors and clustered in small groups in the courtyard, chatting lively.

At the courtyard’s heart, a robust youth reclined casually in a swaying rocking chair.

Ye Zhen knew him well; he was Hundred Pine Peak’s top senior brother among servants, Ma Yuanwu.

Five or six servant disciples encircled Ma Yuanwu then, while two leaner ones knelt nearby, kneading his shoulders and legs.

Truth be told, Qiyun Sect drew no lines between ranks among servant or Outer Disciples, lacking any formal ‘big senior brother’ label.

The strongest naturally led.

Among one peak’s servant disciples, the mightiest earned the unofficial title of big senior brother from peers.

Yet, the peak’s top servant held an official rank: seed candidate!

Across Qiyun Sect’s numerous Chores Peaks, each peak’s prime servant poised to rise as an Outer Disciple was dubbed a seed candidate.

In essence, a peak’s seed disciple ruled supreme there, commanding respect even from Chores Peak stewards.

“Ye Zhen, looks like your family visited!”

Someone unknown yelled it out, drawing the eyes of nearly three hundred Hundred Pine Peak servant disciples straight to Ye Zhen entering the gate.

Precisely, their stares locked onto the bundle clutched in Ye Zhen’s grasp.

A few near Ma Yuanwu especially eyed that bundle like ravenous wolves.

“Oh, quite the hefty bundle.

Your folks surely packed loads of goodies, huh?

Wuy Jian, fetch it over so I can inspect,” drawled Ma Yuanwu from his rocking chair, eyes half-lidded.

“Yes, Senior Brother!”

Standing behind Ma Yuanwu, Wuy Jian answered eagerly and marched up, snapping at Ye Zhen, “Hand it over!”

Ye Zhen’s jaw tightened, fingers clamping the bundle vise-like.

Though he’d foreseen this on the return trek—having buried the precious silver atop the peak—the raw humiliation crashed over him fiercely now.

“Give it up, why the glare?

You trash on the verge of expulsion dares glare at me?

Glare once more, and I’ll rip your eyes out!”

Growing irked, Wuy Jian muttered curses, yanked the bundle from Ye Zhen’s grip, shoved the glowering Ye Zhen hard, and swaggered off.

“Senior Brother, here’s Ye Zhen’s bundle!”

Wuy Jian strutted boldly before Ye Zhen, but shrank deferential before Ma Yuanwu, Hundred Pine Peak’s seed candidate.

“Hmm?”

Ma Yuanwu rose, loosening Ye Zhen’s bundle and rifling through it hastily.

Every June, peak visitation month for servant families, proved the choicest season for Chores Peaks’ seed candidates.

All family gifts to servant disciples funneled through their grasp, prime picks pocketed for themselves regardless.

Why so?

Raw power!

Their crushing might.

Object?

Test fists first!

Qiyun Sect ignored such servant squabbles.

With a hundred thousand servant disciples, daily brawls snapping bones aplenty, who could bother?

Ma Yuanwu started thrilled rummaging Ye Zhen’s bundle, but his mood soured fast.

Full scour yielded mere clothes scraps and food bits, no trace of even half a liang silver.

Eyes narrowing to slits, Ma Yuanwu’s sly, serpentine gaze pinned Ye Zhen. “Tell me, Ye Zhen, your kin aren’t destitute.

Yearly visit, and they deliver ragged garb, foul meat slabs?

Where’s the silver?”

Ragged garb?

Foul meat?

Those barbs hit Ye Zhen’s ears, fists balling till veins popped.

Only lingering reason held him back, eyed by battered peers with bashed faces and mangled limbs nearby, barely stopping a mad charge.

Those items? My mother sewed each stitch lovingly.

“What a downer!

Trash kin sends trash junk!”

Lacking cultivation aids, Ma Yuanwu scowled bitterly, spitefully hurling Ye Zhen’s socks and garb at nearby servants.

“Take these rags, divvy ’em up.”

Wuy Jian and cronies cheered uproariously.

Meanwhile, Ma Yuanwu chomped savagely into a handmade sausage from Ye Zhen’s mother. “Mmm, this spoiled meat ain’t half bad.

Here, sample it too.”

Swiftly, Ma Yuanwu wolfed Ye Zhen’s roast chicken and sausages.

Thump!

A gnawed chicken leg sailed from Ma Yuanwu, splatting Ye Zhen’s chest.

“Hmm, family gift, so taste it yourself—don’t claim I, Ma Yuanwu, kept it all.”

Eyeing the grimy leg at his feet and shredded unfit clothes, Ye Zhen’s brow veins pulsed madly, chest pumping like forge bellows.

Wrath exploded uncontrollably, fury blazing to his skull.

Blood boiled in a flash, nearly propelling Ye Zhen to clash fatally with Ma Yuanwu!

As Ye Zhen teetered on eruption, nearby Sha Fei lunged, seizing Ye Zhen and hauling him indoors.

“Ye Zhen, haven’t eaten yet, right?

Grabbed your dinner and Blood Essence Soup today.”

Qiyun Sect paired servant disciples in rooms; Sha Fei roomed with Ye Zhen.

He ranked among Ye Zhen’s few solid servant pals.

Entering a year prior, Sha Fei guided him kindly, sparing many pitfalls.

“Hmph!

You pair wised up!”

Watching Sha Fei drag Ye Zhen inside, Ma Yuanwu sneered, spitting a chicken bone. “Trash!”

“Ye Zhen, ignore their ilk, just grit through it.

Fight them, lose legs, you’re ruined!

Forgot Cheng Agou, crippled by them half-year back?”

Door slammed shut, Sha Fei urged Ye Zhen nonstop.

Long minutes passed; Ye Zhen’s raging chest eased, forcing a grimace-smile at Sha Fei worse than tears. “Thanks, shame I brought nothing for you.”

“Brothers need no thanks!”

“Cool off.

Cultivate hard; one day, when you soar, thrash Ma Yuanwu till he wails for folks, avenge our woes.” Sha Fei consoled half-heartedly, knowing their odds slimmed.

Under a year, maybe half, Ma Yuanwu might ascend to Outer Disciple.

Outers gained richer resources, speeding ahead eternally.

Sha Fei’s pep talk ignited Ye Zhen, channeling rage to cultivation drive.

“Endure now, Ye Zhen,” he vowed firmly.

“Today’s shame, I’ll wrest back from bastard Ma Yuanwu someday!”

Moon climbed eastward, silencing boisterous Hundred Pine Peak abruptly.

All, Ye Zhen included, retreated diligently to rooms, cross-legged on beds for evening session.

Downing Qiyun Sect’s issued Blood Essence Soup gulps, they launched nightly routine via commonplace-yet-valuable-to-outsiders Blood Qi Technique.

Qiyun servant disciples trained twice daily: dawn punches for might, dusk Blood Qi Decision for blood vitality boost.

Blood Essence Soup hit Ye Zhen’s gut, igniting roaring warmth.

Circulating Blood Qi Decision, soup’s heat flooded limbs and innards via blood qi flow.

Each heat wisp dispersed, bulking Ye Zhen’s blood qi sturdier.

Fifteen minutes on, soup’s potency fully absorbed; Ye Zhen opened eyes, irked.

Too scant in amount and grade, this Blood Essence Soup.

Two-hour night session barely held fifteen minutes’ med-power.

Full two hours fueled? Ye Zhen figured he’d breached Qi Absorption Realm, Second Blood Training Stage ages ago.

Sect offered Blood Essence Pills—type Ye Zhen’s dad Ye Tiancheng urged buying.

Rumored dozens-fold potenter than soup, reserved for elite-bloodline Outer Disciples.

Servants like Ye Zhen slurped mere pill-waste Blood Essence Soup.

Eyes shut anew, Ye Zhen doggedly ran Blood Qi Technique.

Sans soup aid, blood qi gains crawled torturously.

Ye Zhen gauged two hours’ toil matched barely soup-boosted fifteen minutes.

Yet martial path demanded grit, truth Ye Zhen grasped fully!

Two-and-a-half hours later, body blood qi wobbling, Ye Zhen halted.

Sect’s two-hour mandate stemmed hence.

Eyes opening, roommate Sha Fei had finished cultivating, snoring deeply.

Day-laboring servants crashed instantly, thunderproof slumber.

Ye Zhen skipped bed, donned garb softly, eased door shut, sneaked out.

Snoring chorus everywhere, Ye Zhen stooped and scurried to Hundred Pine Peak’s minor summit.

Near half-hour dash brought Ye Zhen to the hillcrest, nightly haunt last half-month.

Atop, Ye Zhen steadied breath, ears alert, straining for hill-blanketing noises.

Initially, pine winds and insect hums alone.

Heart calming, tiny critter calls pierced through.

“Squeak, squeak, squeak…”

Mouse cries hit Ye Zhen’s ears, unveiling a whole other realm.

Random squeaks to others rang clear as speech to him: “Seventeenth Brother, quick, time’s nigh, let’s move.”

This secret was Ye Zhen’s edge.

**********

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