Nine Legendary Dragon Scrolls

Episode 1

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.