THE CHAOS SOVEREIGN

In the mid-winter festival of the Afure Cloud sect celebration: every true disciple celebrated their spirit-fruit and breakthrough, it was the most beautiful moment for true disciples. But Lu Chen, an outer discipline with broken roots, was receiving punishment, and humiliation from the elders and other true disciples. Everyone was celebrating the beautiful night of light for the year. But Lu Chen was on his knees in the mud inside the courtyard. His hands were weak and shaking as he scrubbed the stone steps with a worn-out brush.

Wei Feng said cruelly.

"You lower, trash! I can still see my reflection’s shadow in that grime!"

With a heavy silk boot, made with expensive silver thread slammed it down onto Lu Chen’s hand. The bad man ground his fingers into the frozen stone. Lu Chen gasped as pain shot up his arm heavily. He clenched his teeth, refusing to cry out because he was afraid of more punishment. He knew from experience that a scream would only make Wei Feng press you harder than he should.

"Please... please, Senior Brother Wei... the steps are clean," Lu Chen stammered. His face was full of dust mixed with sweat, and breathless. “A beggar like you wouldn't know the meaning of the word." Wei Feng laughed. With a flick of his foot, he kicked Lu Chen’s bucket of dirty water over, and the soapy water spilled across the ground, touching Lu Chen’s tattered robes; his clothes were soaked through with dirty water.

There were groups of other disciples but gathering together didn't offer any help; instead, they were filled with mockery. To them, Lu Chen was a stray dog—a mistake allowed to stay in the sect only because of a dying wish from a long-forgotten elder.

"Look at him," one of the girls whispered, tossing a half-eaten plate of porridge yams on his head. It spreads against his hair filling it with oil, she continued. "He has 'Broken Roots.' Even the Heavens threw him away. Why does he still hang around here?"

"Don't mind him; he’s waiting for a miracle to happen," Wei Feng mocked him. They burst out laughing. “Hahaha. Wei Feng leaned down, looking at the light on a small, dull jade pendant hanging on Lu Chen’s neck , straightening his hands on the pendant. “What is this? Is this your 'treasure'?"

"Don't touch that!"

Lu Chen’s voice cracked with emotion. That pendant was the only thing he had left of his parents. He moved his hands forward, trying to protect it, but his weak body was nothing compared to a trained cultivator.

Wei Feng smiled coldly, pulling the pendant so hard and cutting it by force,a red line drowned in Lu Chen’s neck. He held the jade up to the moonlight, looking at it with disgust. Wei Feng spat on the stone and then tossed the pendant into the nearby pig stalls, where the filth food was dumped.

"Go fetch it, you dog, that's where you belong" Wei Feng said, wiping his hands on his silk robes.

The crowd burst out into laughter. The sound echoed through the air. Lu Chen didn't look up. He crawled toward the pig stalls, his knees scraping against the dirt and his eyes were full of tears of pure humiliation.

As his fingers sank into the muck to find his only treasure, when his hand eventually touched it; he looked up to the heavens and then down to the pendant, it seems like he had not lost his hope. But deep inside him, under the cold and pain, a small spark of anger began to burn.

The Afure Cloud Sect thought he was nothing. Maybe, he would prove them right—or he would find a way to change his fate forever.

Throughout the following week was a living nightmare for Lu Chen. Because he had broken their law by talking back to the top cultivator, Wei Feng, the punishment turned from mockery to systematic torture.

Every morning, Lu Chen found his plate of porridge filled with sand. When he went to the hall to do clean up, the other disciples would be hitting him, and sending him tumbling down from the high marble stairs asking.

"He’s still breathing?" Han Yu, Wei Feng’s cousin and a formidable talent, stood over Lu Chen in the training hall, coughing, his chest heavy. He had been forced to act as a "human punching bag" for the junior class’s combat practice. His face was swollen, and his ribs burned with every breath.

"Stand up, you trash. We aren't finished with the 'Defensive Arts' lesson," Han Yu said, with a cruel smile. He gathered a flicker of blue Qi in his fist—a force far too strong for an outer disciple to endure.

"I... I can't, I cannot stand" Lu Chen whispered in a broken voice.

"Then die, if you cannot stand." Han Yu’s fist moved like a force, striking Lu Chen squarely in the chest.

The force sent Lu Chen flying across the hall, crashing into a weapon rack before he slammed into the stone wall. He slumped to the floor, his body was no longer moving. Blood was pooled under his chin, staining the floorboards.

Han Yu complained, "Hmm. See you, Too weak. He didn't even last ten hits, wiping his hand on a towel as if he had touched rotting things. "Throw him into the back of the mountain small room. If he lives before the day's break, he will clean up the toilet."

The disciples dragged Lu Chen’s body through the dirt, leaving a trail of his blood behind him. They kept him in a cold, damp small room, slammed the door, locked it from the outside.

And they left him there, Lu Chen was all alone in the dark room, his heart was slowed. The cold was seeping into his bones. He had a sound of the crack of the jade pendant— “cracked” He was holding it with the last of his strength, his spirit was reaching a point of absolute despair.

Is this it? he thought. Is this the 'destiny' the Heavens gave me? To be stepped on until I turn to dust?