A light rain dampened the courtyard of Blue Cloud Sword Academy as Lin Feng hauled an oversized basket of the inner disciples' dirty laundry. His hands were raw from the cold water, his back aching from bending since before dawn — but he didn't complain. Complaining wouldn't change a thing.

"Hey, trash!"

Lin Feng exhaled slowly. He didn't need to turn around to know who was calling. That arrogant voice was far too familiar.

"I'm talking to you, Lin Feng!" Zhao Ming, an inner disciple at the Third Layer of the Qi Gathering Realm, strutted over with five of his friends in tow. A mocking sneer stretched across his face.

"Are you deaf now? Or has that Chaotic Spiritual Root of yours ruined your hearing too?"

His lackeys erupted in laughter. Lin Feng set the basket down and offered a polite bow. "My apologies, Senior Brother Zhao. I was focused on the laundry. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Focused?" Zhao Ming scoffed. "What does a piece-of-trash servant need focus for? Oh wait — I forgot. You still dream about becoming a cultivator, don't you?"

More roaring laughter. Lin Feng clenched his fists at his sides but kept his expression smooth. Ten years. Ten years since he'd become a servant at this academy. Ten years of insults, degradation, and being treated as a punchline.

And still he endured. Because this was the one place where he could learn — even if only by watching from a distance, even if only by reading the discarded books the academy had tossed into storage.

"Listen carefully, Lin Feng." Zhao Ming stepped closer, his qi flaring until the air around him vibrated. "I'm sick of seeing your face in this academy. You know why? Because you remind me that garbage like you can still set foot in a place this prestigious. It's humiliating."

"Senior Brother Zhao—"

"Shut up!" Zhao Ming shoved him hard in the chest. Lin Feng stumbled backward, and the basket slipped from his grip. The freshly washed clothes spilled across the muddy ground.

"You think you're worthy of speaking to me?"

Lin Feng stared at the garments he'd scrubbed since morning, now filthy again. Something in his chest ached — not from the physical blow, but from exhaustion. The bone-deep weariness of living like this.

"Apologize. Now," Zhao Ming ordered. "Get on your knees and beg forgiveness for contaminating this academy with your presence."

Silence fell between them. Lin Feng raised his head and looked Zhao Ming dead in the eye. And for the first time in ten years, he said, "No."

Zhao Ming's expression twisted with fury. "What did you just say?"

"I said no." Lin Feng straightened his spine, even as his heart hammered. "I won't kneel. Not for you. Not for anyone."

"So you've grown a spine!" Zhao Ming raised his hand, and lightning qi crackled across his palm. "Sounds like you need a lesson in respecting your betters!"

"Zhao Ming!"

A cold voice sliced through the tension. A striking young woman in sky-blue robes approached, her black hair swept up in a high knot, sharp eyes fixed on Zhao Ming with open anger.

"Senior Bai!" Zhao Ming yanked his qi back and bowed hastily. "I was just—"

"Just what? Bullying a servant?" Bai Yun glanced at Lin Feng for a brief moment before returning her gaze to Zhao Ming. She was one of the academy's prodigies among the inner disciples, already at the Sixth Layer of the Qi Gathering Realm.

"Don't you have anything more useful to do? Or has your cultivation reached such perfection that you can afford to waste time playing around?"

Zhao Ming's face flushed crimson. "N-no, Senior Bai. I... I'll go back to training."

"Good." Bai Yun folded her arms. "And Zhao Ming? If I hear you harassing a servant again, I'll report you to Elder Feng. He has very little patience for disciples who use their power to bully the weak."

Zhao Ming ground his teeth but didn't dare argue. With one last venomous glare at Lin Feng, he stalked off with his followers.

Lin Feng bowed to Bai Yun. "Thank you, Senior Sister Bai."

"Don't thank me." She studied him with an unreadable expression. "But Lin Feng — why do you insist on staying here? With a Chaotic Spiritual Root, cultivation is impossible for you. Why not find another life? Become a merchant, or a farmer — anything that won't get you humiliated every single day?"

Lin Feng said nothing. How could he explain that ten years ago, he'd sworn an oath at his family's grave — his family, slaughtered to the last — that he would become a cultivator, that he would find their killers, that he would have his revenge?

How could he tell her that leaving this academy meant abandoning his only hope, fragile as a thread about to snap?

"Maybe because I'm stubborn," Lin Feng finally answered, managing a bitter smile. "Too stubborn to quit."

Bai Yun regarded him for a long moment, then sighed. "Stubbornness is fine. Just don't let it kill you." She turned to leave, then paused.

"Oh — Lin Feng. The lower library needs to be cleaned tonight. Elder Shen, who was on duty, is ill, so you'll have to handle it alone. The key is at the steward's office."

"Understood, Senior Sister."

After Bai Yun left, Lin Feng crouched and began gathering the soiled clothes back into the basket. His hands trembled — not from cold this time, but from the anger he'd held back.

*Ten years,* he thought.

*Ten years, and I'm still here. Still weak. Still useless.*

Night fell quickly. After finishing every last chore — washing another round of laundry, scrubbing the dormitory floors, preparing dinner for the inner disciples — Lin Feng finally made his way to the lower library.

Blue Cloud Sword Academy had three tiers of library. The upper level was reserved for core disciples and Elders, housing advanced cultivation manuals and the academy's secret techniques. The middle level served inner disciples, stocked with intermediate manuals and general knowledge. The lower level was for servants and outer disciples — nothing but basic texts and outdated manuals that no one cared about.

Lin Feng knew every corner of the lower library by heart. Every night, when no one was looking, he'd steal time to read. Basic cultivation manuals, qi theory, the history of the cultivation world — anything that might deepen his understanding, even if he could never put it into practice.

Tonight, the library was utterly empty. Spirit stone lanterns cast a dim glow across the shelves. Lin Feng began sweeping with a broom and feather duster, but his mind drifted elsewhere.

Chaotic Spiritual Root. That was the name for his condition. In the cultivation world, everyone was born with an affinity for one or more elements — Fire, Water, Earth, Metal, Wood, Lightning, Wind, Light, or Shadow. This affinity determined what kind of cultivation suited them.

But Lin Feng? His spiritual core was a chaotic vortex that rejected every element at once. Any qi he tried to absorb would scatter and vanish instantly. No matter how many times he attempted it, the result was always the same.

"Failure," he muttered as he swept. "Always failure."

Lost in thought, he swung the broom too wide and clipped a stack of old books in the corner. They toppled and scattered, one of them slamming into the ancient wooden shelf behind it.

A sharp crack split the air.

The shelf splintered and collapsed, revealing something strange — the wall behind it showed the outline of what looked like a door.

Lin Feng froze. His pulse quickened. He'd been cleaning this library for ten years. He'd never known there was a hidden door here.

He should report this to the Elders. He knew that. But "should" had never been enough to overpower Lin Feng's curiosity.

With trembling hands, he pushed the door open wider. Behind it was an old wooden door layered with an illusion formation that had long since faded — which was why he could see it now.

Beyond that door, a stone staircase descended into darkness. The air rising from below was cold and stale, as if nothing had disturbed it for centuries. Lin Feng grabbed one of the spirit stone lanterns and began his descent.

Each footstep echoed through the narrow passage. The staircase went on and on. By now he had to be far beneath the library — far beneath the academy itself.

At last, the stairs ended at a circular chamber. And at its center stood an altar.

Lin Feng raised the lantern higher. The altar was carved from black jade, etched with nine dragons coiled around one another. Each dragon was different — one wreathed in lightning, one in fire, one in water, and so on.

And in the center of those nine dragons rested a scroll.

The scroll radiated light in nine distinct colors that bled together into one. Red, blue, brown, silver, white, gold, black, violet — and at the very center, a color that defied description. As if every color had merged into one, or no color existed at all.

Lin Feng stood transfixed. His feet carried him forward without permission.

*Don't,* whispered the voice of common sense. *This must be a powerful artifact. It must be under the academy's protection. Don't touch it.*

But deep within his chaotic spiritual core, something stirred. His hand rose on its own. His fingers brushed the scroll.

The world exploded.

Light of nine colors erupted from the scroll, engulfing Lin Feng completely. He tried to scream, but his voice drowned in a deafening roar.

Unimaginable energy poured into his spiritual core. And for the first time in his life, Lin Feng felt qi.

Not one type of qi — nine, flowing through him in perfect harmony.

Lightning that annihilates.

Fire that consumes.

Water that flows.

Earth that endures.

Wind that roams free.

Light that purifies.

Shadow that conceals.

Space that bends.

And at the center of it all — Chaos that unites.

Lin Feng felt as though his body would be torn apart. The energy was too vast, too overwhelming. His spiritual core couldn't possibly contain it all.

But then the impossible happened.

His Chaotic Spiritual Root — the root that had rejected every qi for as long as he'd lived — began absorbing this energy flawlessly. Like a puzzle piece finding its match at last. Like a key sliding into the lock it was made for.

The colors of qi swirled within his spiritual core, spinning, dancing, merging. Slowly, the chaotic vortex transformed — became something beautiful.

An ancient voice resonated through his mind, emanating from the scroll that had now fused with his soul.

*"The bearer of the Chaos Dragon Scroll has arrived. True heir to the Nine Dragon Orchestration. Listen well, young one, for I will reveal to you a truth buried for a thousand years..."*

But before the voice could continue, Lin Feng's consciousness faded to black.

He woke with a splitting headache.

He lay on the cold stone floor of the altar chamber, the spirit stone lantern still glowing beside him. How long had he been out? An hour? Two? *Please don't let it be morning already...*

He sat up slowly and turned his attention inward. What he found made him gasp.

Inside his dantian, something spun — slowly, steadily, alive. It was qi.

Lin Feng closed his eyes and focused. What he saw took his breath away.

Within his dantian was a small vortex of nine colors spinning in perfect harmony. Each color represented one element, and they all orbited a center of chaos.

"I... I can finally cultivate?" Joy blazed across Lin Feng's face.

He laughed — his first real laugh in years.

Ten years. Ten years of suffering. Ten years of scorn. And now, with the scroll merged into his soul, knowledge unfurled in his mind like a book opening itself.

*The Nine Dragon Orchestration. The supreme cultivation technique, created by the nine founders three thousand years ago. Split into nine scrolls to prevent its abuse. You have found the Chaos Dragon Scroll — the master scroll, capable of replicating and harmonizing the other eight.*

*But be warned, bearer of Chaos. Collecting all the scrolls will unlock a truth you may not be ready to face. The truth of why Heaven placed limits on cultivators. The truth of the price of true power.*

*And when that truth is revealed, you must choose: power for yourself — or sacrifice for the world.*

Lin Feng swallowed hard. The weight of those words pressed down on him.

But then he remembered his family's faces. The blood pooling across the floor of his childhood home. The masked cultivators who slaughtered them without mercy.

If this scroll could give him the strength to find those killers — if it could give him the power to avenge his family — then no danger ahead would stop him.

Lin Feng stood. He looked at the empty altar one last time, then turned and climbed the stairs.

His plan was already taking shape. He had to keep this secret. He had to keep pretending to be the worthless trash servant everyone believed him to be. He had to train in silence, growing stronger until he could withstand the attention that would inevitably come.

Because Lin Feng understood the cultivation world's one unbreakable law: power was everything. And the moment people learned he had it, they would come for him.

For the first time in ten years, Lin Feng had real hope. Not the paper-thin hope that had disappointed him time and again — but something solid. Something he could hold. Something he could make real.

Lin Feng smiled.

*Wait for me,* he whispered. *Wait for me, Father. Mother. Xiao Yue. I swear I'll find the ones who killed you. I swear I'll have my revenge. And this time — I have the power to keep that promise.*

After leaving the hidden chamber, Lin Feng carefully tidied the lower library as though nothing had happened. He concealed the cracked shelf in a dark corner, then arranged books in front of it so the hidden door was completely invisible.

Once his work was done, he grabbed a lantern and walked outside. Tonight, he didn't head for the servants' dormitory. Instead, he made for a small cave on the slopes behind the academy.

The cave wasn't large — barely enough room for one person to sit cross-legged. He'd discovered it three years ago while fleeing from a senior's bullying, and since then it had become the only place where he could feel safe.

By the time the sun began to rise, Lin Feng was still sitting cross-legged inside the cave. His mind buzzed with excitement, because for the first time in his life, he could actually cultivate.

The Basic Cultivation Manual he'd once read in the library laid out the first step clearly: *Feel the qi in the air. Then draw it into your body. Guide it through your dantian, following the path of your meridians.*

It sounded simple enough. But for someone with a Chaotic Spiritual Root like his, even the step of "feeling qi" had always been impossible.

Now, everything was different. He could immediately sense the nine-colored vortex spinning inside his dantian. The Chaos Dragon Scroll had merged perfectly with his spiritual core, transforming a dantian that had once been nothing but chaos into something harmonious.

He followed his instincts — or perhaps it was the scroll's knowledge slowly integrating with his consciousness.

And he felt everything.

Lightning qi from the storm clouds gathering above the mountain peaks.

Fire qi from the rising sun.

Water qi from the dew clinging to the leaves.

Earth qi from the stone beneath him.

Wind qi from the gentle morning breeze.

Light qi from the sunlight.

Shadow qi from the cave's darkness.

Spatial qi from the empty air itself.

And beneath all of it, chaos qi — subtle, undetectable, the invisible thread binding every element together.

Lin Feng didn't draw in just one type of qi. He drew in all of them at once. The energy flowed into his body through the pores of his skin, coursing through his meridians without resistance — none of the rejection he'd experienced for years on end.

All that qi gathered in his dantian, where the nine-colored vortex spun. And there, something miraculous happened.

The different types of qi didn't clash or repel each other. Instead, they spiraled together in perfect harmony, like an orchestra playing a flawless symphony.

Lightning and fire complemented each other. Water and earth balanced one another. Wind and light reinforced each other. Shadow and space filled each other's gaps. And chaos... chaos was the conductor that unified them all.

Lin Feng felt the power growing — slowly, but steadily. His dantian, which had held only a tiny vortex, began to expand. Pure qi accumulated, forming the foundation of his cultivation.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. The process was far more exhausting than he'd imagined. Each cycle of drawing qi from the outside, purifying it in his dantian, and circulating it through his meridians drained him further.

But Lin Feng didn't stop. Not after ten years of being mocked for failing at the most basic act of cultivation.

The sun traced its arc across the sky and began tilting toward the west. Still, Lin Feng didn't move from his first cultivation session.

When he finally opened his eyes, the sky was growing dark. His body was drenched in sweat, and for the first time in his life, Lin Feng felt true power.

He raised his hand, and with a flicker of concentration, a tiny spark of lightning danced at his fingertip. Then fire. Then water. One by one, every element answered his will.

"Qi Gathering Realm, First Layer," Lin Feng murmured, barely able to believe it. In a single day, he'd reached a level that took ordinary cultivators weeks — even months — to achieve.

But of course, he was no ordinary cultivator. He was the bearer of the Chaos Dragon Scroll.

Lin Feng finally stood, his legs trembling slightly from sitting so long. He needed to think carefully about his next move.

Because even though he could now cultivate, he was still only at the First Layer of the Qi Gathering Realm. Zhao Ming was already at the Third Layer. Bai Yun had reached the Ninth Layer. And those were just inner disciples. What about the core disciples who had already broken through to the Foundation Establishment Realm?

If Lin Feng suddenly revealed his ability to cultivate, everyone would grow suspicious. They'd start asking questions, and sooner or later, someone would uncover the truth about the scroll.

He couldn't let that happen — not until he was strong enough to protect himself.

"I have to keep pretending to be a worthless servant," he decided. "At least for the next few months. Train in secret, grow stronger bit by bit, until the time is right..."

But even as he said it, Lin Feng knew this wouldn't be easy. Pretending to be weak when you were actually strong required extraordinary discipline.

Especially when people like Zhao Ming kept grinding you under their heel.

Over the following weeks, Lin Feng fell into a new routine. During the day, he remained an ordinary servant. But every night, once he was certain everyone was asleep, he slipped out and made his way to his secret cave. There, he cultivated relentlessly. And his progress was extraordinary.

By the end of the first week, he'd reached the Third Layer of the Qi Gathering Realm — the same level Zhao Ming had taken three years to achieve.

Second week: Fifth Layer, surpassing the majority of inner disciples.

Third week: Seventh Layer. Just two layers below a genius like Bai Yun.

Each breakthrough brought deeper understanding of the Nine Dragon Orchestration. Knowledge from the scroll revealed itself gradually, like a book whose pages multiplied with every level he ascended.

Lin Feng learned that the Orchestration wasn't merely about absorbing all the elements. That was far too simple. The Orchestration was about harmony — making every element work together to create something greater than the sum of its parts.

Each element had its strengths and weaknesses:

Lightning was fast and destructive, but difficult to control.

Fire was powerful and aggressive, but burned through qi rapidly.

Water was flexible and healing, but lacked direct offensive power.

Earth was stable and defensive, but slow.

Wind was nimble and capable of creating illusions, but physically weak.

Light purified and protected, but faltered against shadow.

Shadow was perfect for stealth and silent killing, but weakened in bright places.

Space could manipulate distance and dimensions, but was incredibly difficult to master.

And chaos unified everything, but demanded perfect balance across all elements.

Lin Feng practiced his first technique — the "Basic Three Element Harmony," a combination of fire, water, and earth. A foundational technique from classical cultivation, but enhanced with the Orchestration's touch.

The result: an energy burst three times more powerful than what a normal cultivator at the same level could produce.

He also discovered something fascinating. Because he absorbed all elements simultaneously, he had none of the usual elemental weaknesses. Fire cultivators were vulnerable to water. Earth cultivators were vulnerable to wood. But Lin Feng could adapt. If an enemy used fire, he could counter with water. If an enemy used earth, he could counter with wood.

This flexibility was his greatest advantage.

But it came at a price.