Inscribing the Heavens

Chapter 4: The Resonance of Nine Rings

When Lu Chen’s slender, pale palm met the cold celestial obsidian, silence fell over the Central Martial Square.

For three breaths, nothing happened. The Stele of Heaven's Gauge stood silent and dark, as still as a frozen boulder.

On the platform, a smug, cruel smile spread across Murong Feng’s face. Below, Liu Tao and the disciples of the Murong faction burst into unrestrained ridicule.

"Hahaha! Look at him! Not even a single spark!"

"Three years of eating academy rice, and he cannot even awaken a pebble! A useless pretty face, just as we said!"

"Instructor Zhao, what are you waiting for? Strip his jade token and throw this sluggard out the mountain gates!"

Murong Feng shook his head, looking down with sovereign disdain. At eighteen years old, proud of his noble bloodline and his Fifth Layer peak cultivation, he relished the spectacle. "Lu Chen, it seems heaven itself refuses to acknowledge you. Kneel and surrender your robes."

Instructor Zhao sneered, stepping forward with his hand raised to call the discipline guards. "Lu Chen, the test has concluded. You have failed to awaken even the lowest—"

CLANG—!

Zhao’s sentence was severed by a sound like the chime of a primordial bronze bell echoing from the dawn of creation.

The thirty-foot Stele of Heaven's Gauge trembled violently. The dark obsidian, dormant for centuries under ordinary spiritual Qi, suddenly flared with a radiant, golden luminance so pure and blinding that thousands of disciples cried out and shielded their eyes.

VUUUUUM!

The first concentric ring at the base ignited into brilliant, molten gold!

Before the crowd could draw a breath, the second ring blazed to life!

Then the third!

Three blinding rings of solar gold circled the obsidian monolith, spinning with ancient runic scripts that had not appeared in Canglan Academy in over three hundred years. The spiritual pressure emanating from the stone was not the cold, biting chill of Murong Feng's frost Qi, nor was it the crude heat of common fire. It was vast, ancient, and pure—a majestic, unblemished aura that felt like the descending light of the sun itself.

"Three... Three rings?!" Instructor Zhao choked on his breath, his eyes bulging as if struck by lightning. "Third Layer of Qi Condensation?!"

The mockery died in Liu Tao’s throat. The entire square froze in disbelief.

Three days ago, this youth was widely known as a crippled sluggard who could not gather a strand of spiritual energy. In three short days, he had surged straight into the Third Layer of Qi Condensation!

"No... wait! Look at the top of the stele!" an inner court elder shouted from the grand terrace, leaping to his feet in agitation.

The stele did not stop.

Though the cultivation level halted at the Third Layer, the spiritual purity gauge—the vertical pillar running straight through the center of the nine rings—was climbing with terrifying velocity.

Low-Grade Spirit Meridian... breached!

Mid-Grade Spirit Meridian... shattered!

High-Grade Spirit Meridian... ignited!

BOOOM!

A column of golden light shot fifty cubits into the morning sky, piercing the autumn clouds and washing over the entire mountain valley. At the very pinnacle of the stele, the legendary ninth rune—a mark representing the mythical Flawless Heaven-Grade Meridian—ignited with a deafening chime.

A gentle spiritual wind swept across the square, carrying the faint, intoxicating fragrance of blooming Dao lotuses. The autumn frost on the ground instantly melted away, replaced by vibrant warmth.

"Flawless... Flawless Dao Meridian?!"

"The ninth rune lit up! That is a legend recorded only in the ancient founding archives of our Great Yan Dynasty!"

The elders on the high dais were no longer sitting. Grey-bearded masters who had remained impassive for decades stood trembling, staring at the thirty-foot stele in shock.

Standing before the radiant monument, bathed in the cascading golden light, Lu Chen appeared like an immortal prince walking out of an ancient painting. At seventeen years of age, his azure robes billowed in the spiritual gale. His long, raven hair danced freely against his shoulders, and his handsome, sculpted features were illuminated by the golden halo. His obsidian eyes remained tranquil, deep, and fathomless, devoid of arrogance or fear. His skin seemed carved from warm, radiant jade, possessing an ethereal, otherworldly beauty that took the breath away from every spectator.

Among the female disciples, several clasped their hands over their chests, their faces flushed red, completely spellbound by his transcendent poise.

"He... he is so breathtaking," an inner court maiden whispered dreamily. "To think we called him a sluggard... He wasn't crippled; he was hiding a dragon within an abyss!"

"Seventeen years old, Third Layer Qi Condensation with a Flawless Heaven-Grade Meridian... His future is limitless!"

On the viewing terrace, Chu Qingxuan had risen from her seat. Her cold suet-jade fingers gripped the railing of the pavilion, her glacial eyes fixed unblinkingly on Lu Chen. At seventeen, hailed as the peerless genius of the academy with a High-Grade Frost Meridian, she had never considered any peer worthy of her attention. Even Murong Feng, with his noble pedigree and Fifth Layer cultivation, had seemed mundane to her.

Yet looking down at Lu Chen at this moment, an inexplicable tremor ran through her heart.

It isn't just a Heaven-Grade Meridian, Chu Qingxuan thought, her sharp senses discerning a terrifying truth beneath the golden radiance. The stele isn't just measuring his Qi... it is submitting to it! What kind of bloodline does he carry?

Meanwhile, on the platform, Murong Feng stood paralyzed. His handsome aristocratic face had turned deathly pale, his jaw slack. The arrogant sneer that had hung on his lips for days was replaced by a suffocating humiliation.

Just moments ago, he had boasted of his Fifth Layer cultivation and Mid-Grade Frost Meridian, basking in the crowd’s adulation like an emperor. But compared to the pillar of solar gold now illuminating Lu Chen, his five azure rings looked like dim candle fire next to the midday sun!

"Impossible..." Murong Feng’s voice trembled with venomous disbelief. "A Flawless Meridian? In a trash orphan who spent three years sleeping beneath a willow tree? There must be a mistake! The Stele of Heaven's Gauge has decayed from age! He must be using some demonic illusion talisman!"

"Impudent!"

A thunderous shout echoed from the high terrace. Elder Tie, the chief elder of the Discipline Hall, descended from the pavilion like a great hawk, his Seventh Layer Qi Condensation pressure rolling over the square.

"The Stele of Heaven's Gauge was bestowed by the founding ancestors of Canglan Academy!" Elder Tie reprimanded coldly, his piercing gaze sweeping over Murong Feng. "Its ancient spirit has guarded our mountain for five hundred years. Are you claiming our founding artifact is blind?!"

Murong Feng choked, his face flushing crimson with shame. He bowed hurriedly. "Disciple... disciple spoke in haste. I only found it difficult to comprehend..."

Elder Tie turned toward Lu Chen, his stern, weathered eyes softening with unconcealed amazement. "Outer Disciple Lu Chen! Third Layer of Qi Condensation! Flawless Heaven-Grade Spirit Meridian—Passed! Ranked at the pinnacle of the outer court!"

Kuang Yan threw back his head and roared with thunderous laughter, his booming voice echoing across the square.

"Hahaha! Well done, Brother Lu! Let these blind dogs see who the real dragon is!" Kuang Yan’s bronze muscles rippled as he glared mockingly at Murong Feng and Liu Tao. "Hey, Murong Feng! Didn't your foul mouth just say Lu Chen would crawl back to the mortal dust? Why don't you bark a few more times for your grandfather Kuang to hear?!"

Liu Tao and the other Murong clan scions turned pale as ashes, ducking their heads and not daring to meet Kuang Yan's fierce gaze.

Lu Chen calmly withdrew his palm from the stele. The golden light gradually dimmed, sinking back into the obsidian monolith. Inside his sea of consciousness, the Wordless Heavenly Scripture drifted peacefully, its starlit pages absorbing the lingering celestial Qi from the monument. With the Primordial Dao Origin Bloodline now flowing freely, the Third Layer was merely his starting line; the true depth of his comprehension had barely begun to reveal itself.

Lu Chen turned his gaze toward Murong Feng. His expression was calm, his voice quiet yet carrying clearly across the quieted square.

"Elder Brother Murong, you asked if I needed Brother Kuang to carry my hand to the stone. Now that the stone has spoken, do you still wish to inspect my disciple token?"

Murong Feng’s teeth gritted so hard they nearly cracked. The humiliation burned in his veins like poison. He looked at the surrounding disciples, who were now looking at him not with awe, but with pity and mockery. Even the female disciples who had praised his good looks earlier were now gazing admiringly at Lu Chen.

"Lu Chen!" Murong Feng snarled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his Frost-Biting Sword until the knuckles went white. "Do not get ahead of yourself! What if you awakened a Heaven-Grade Meridian? A meridian is only potential! You are merely at the Third Layer of Qi Condensation, while I am at the peak of the Fifth Layer!"

Murong Feng stepped toward the edge of the platform, the frost Qi around him flaring with vicious intensity.

"Between the Third Layer and the Fifth Layer lies an insurmountable chasm! In actual combat, raw Qi and battle experience determine life and death, not a glowing rock! If you have the guts, face me on the Martial Ring! I will show you that in front of absolute sword skill, a pretty face and an unpolished meridian are nothing more than fragile porcelain!"

The crowd drew a collective breath.

Murong Feng was right in one regard: the difference between the Third Layer and the Fifth Layer peak was two full minor realms. In the cultivation world, each layer of Qi Condensation multiplied one's physical strength, speed, and spiritual reserves. Moreover, Murong Feng possessed the Murong Clan’s signature high-tier martial art, the Frost-Biting Sword, honed through years of combat training. For a freshly awakened Third Layer disciple to fight a Fifth Layer veteran was widely considered suicidal.

"Brother Feng is right," Liu Tao whispered, regaining some courage. "Lu Chen has only awakened for three days! He hasn't even learned a single martial technique! How could he possibly fight against Brother Feng's sword art?"

Instructor Zhao stepped onto the stage, clearing his throat. "The first trial is concluded. The second trial of the Autumn Assessment: The Martial Ring! Disciples may challenge each other to claim their rankings for the inner court. Do the participants accept?"

Before anyone else could speak, Kuang Yan stepped forward, unstrapping his iron broadsword with a heavy crash. "Murong Feng, if you want to fight, I'll take your dog life right now!"

"Brother Kuang, there is no need."

A calm hand rested upon Kuang Yan's broad arm.

Lu Chen walked past Kuang Yan, his steps light and effortless. He looked up at Murong Feng on the platform, his lips parting in a faint, enigmatic smile.

"Three days ago outside my pavilion, you swung your sword at me and said I was unworthy of standing in your presence," Lu Chen said softly, his voice carrying an intoxicating elegance. "Today, upon this Martial Ring, let us conclude that unfinished duel."

Lu Chen paused, his dark eyes gleaming with ancient clarity.

"You pride yourself on your clan's Frost-Biting Sword. Today, I shall meet your sword with empty hands."