Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Eight: Courting Disaster

On the other side, Wang Jue gave his mother no chance to speak. Before she could stop him, he had already begun—slitting the throat, draining the blood. His movements were practiced, clean, and efficient. This fluid, unhesitating series of actions made his mother, who had been somewhat worried, tug at the corner of her mouth in relief. Clearly, her concern had been unnecessary.

Without another word, Wang’s mother carried the vegetables and turned to leave. She was puzzled, unable to figure out why Wang Jue, who had never entered the kitchen in all his life, could slaughter a chicken with such deftness. But then, remembering her son was now a martial artist and thinking of the immense cost of cultivation, she sighed inwardly, feeling it was her family that had held him back. If only they had more money, he wouldn’t have had to quit training after spending nine arduous years to finally become a martial artist.

Wang’s mother left without Wang Jue noticing; his attention was completely focused on the panel before him, hoping to see if anything had changed.

[Name: Wang Jue]
[Level: Body Refinement—First Stage]
[Talent: Red Grade (Intermediate) (0/100)]
[Star Energy: 0]

He was disappointed—the panel remained unchanged. “Looks like killing monsters won’t work either,” Wang Jue muttered, his face darkening. Of the two paths he’d considered—spending money or slaying monsters—the former he’d already proven impossible, and now the latter, after this experiment, was equally fruitless. With both avenues closed, Wang Jue felt despair.

Refusing to accept it, he clung to a shred of hope. With bloodshot eyes and mounting frustration, he tossed aside the dead hen and, unwilling to give up, lunged again into the chicken coop.

Chaos erupted—chickens squawking and scattering everywhere. He killed several more, yet the panel remained unchanged. “Why is there no effect? Could it be a matter of quantity?” he wondered aloud, as if possessed. He plunged into the coop again and again, heedless of the dwindling flock, the growing number of corpses, and the expanding pool of blood staining the ground. He failed to realize he was venturing further down a path of self-destruction.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen separated from the backyard by a wall, a young man with a crew cut listened nervously to the hens’ shrill cries, curiosity mingling with anxiety as he sorted vegetables. He whispered to his bald colleague, “Hey, what’s going on back there? Could it be a thief? Those chicken screams sound terrifying!”

The bald young man cautiously glanced around, making sure the boss and his wife were not present, then whispered, “Don’t ask too much. I heard the boss’s wife say this morning their son has become a martial artist. He came to the shop earlier; he’s probably slaughtering chickens in the yard now.”

“The boss’s son actually became a martial artist?” The crew-cut youth clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. He then asked nervously, “Do you think he’s killing chickens as a warning?”

The bald youth paused, then said, “That… actually sounds plausible. But who’s the monkey?”

At that, silence fell. The two exchanged wary glances and quickly looked away, choosing to focus on their tasks without disturbing each other. From their expressions and movements, it was clear neither wished to be the ‘monkey’ in question.

…

Meanwhile, in the front hall, most of the noodle customers had already left. Wang’s father and mother were tidying up, cleaning and sorting bowls. With no new guests yet, Wang’s father found a moment to say, “Hey, why don’t you check on him in the yard? He should have finished slaughtering by now. If not, you can help, so we’ll have enough for the afternoon.”

They both assumed Wang Jue was plucking and cleaning the chicken after killing it, unaware of what he was actually doing.

“Alright, I’ll take a look,” Wang’s mother agreed, rising to her feet. Before leaving, she boasted, “I bought a big rooster this morning, and nearly twenty hens. I want to see if the hens can lay eggs—if they do, we can hatch chicks, and once they grow up, we’ll save a lot on chicken purchases.”

With that, she hurried toward the backyard.

On the other side, after slaughtering a dozen chickens, Wang Jue sat dazed on a stool, unaware that his mother was about to arrive. Killing chickens wasn’t tiring; nor was catching them, though chasing them in circles made him a bit messy. What truly exhausted him was realizing he’d nearly wiped out the entire coop, yet the panel had not changed in the slightest.

At this moment, Wang Jue felt utterly weary. He looked at the last rooster and two hens trembling in a corner, hesitated a moment, then decided to spare them. The despair and frustration he’d felt had largely dissipated after venting through the slaughter.

But he refused to resign himself. Suddenly it occurred to him—chickens were just domestic animals, so perhaps it was understandable they had no effect. What if he tried with a star beast instead? Would that make a difference?

The idea struck him, bold and electric.

Just then—

“Jue, you wretched child! Look what you’ve done!” Wang’s mother burst into the yard, confronted by a heap of dead chickens, not even plucked, her face full of horror and rage. She felt like beating her profligate son with a club.

She’d asked him to help slaughter a few, thinking he’d know how many to kill even without instruction, but he’d nearly exterminated the entire flock.

So many chickens killed at once—who was supposed to eat them?

“Mom, mom, please, calm down and listen…” Wang Jue snapped out of his daze, saw his mother radiating murderous intent, instinctively raised his hands, stepped back defensively, and tried to explain, but couldn’t find the words.

At that moment, a phrase surfaced in Wang Jue’s mind: “What goes around comes around.”

Wang’s mother, furious, had no intention of listening. Step by step she advanced, cornering Wang Jue against the wall, where he trembled.

The scene was strangely familiar.

After a thorough and merciless scolding, coupled with an earnest apology and review from Wang Jue, his mother began to clean up the mess with a cold expression.

Wang Jue’s gaze fell once more on the last three chickens in the coop, his eyes full of unwillingness. He couldn’t help but make a reckless suggestion: “Mom, there are still three left—should I help you kill them too?”

Bang!

Wang’s mother erupted in anger, slammed down the rubber basin full of dead chickens, grabbed the kitchen knife, and roared, “What did you say? I didn’t hear you—say it again!”

“Nothing, nothing! I meant I’d check if Dad needs any help in the hall.” Wang Jue instantly backed down, fleeing without looking back.

“You little rascal, you really are a prodigal!”

…

Escaping from disaster, Wang Jue passed through the hall but did not actually offer to help, knowing that if his mother told his father what he’d done, he’d face a ‘mixed double’ beating. For the sake of his own life, he headed straight for the door. Passing his father, who was cleaning, he called out, “Dad, I’m going out to see some classmates.”

“Go ahead, just don’t stay out too late.”

“Got it.”

Wang Jue did not visit any classmates, but wandered aimlessly instead. Along the way, he noticed that although Azure Star’s technology was far more advanced than Earth’s, the living environment was much the same—aside from cars and electric scooters being replaced by hovering vehicles, most things were nearly identical.

Although Wang Jue had completely fused with his predecessor’s memories, memories were never as vivid as firsthand experience. He spent nearly three hours retracing the most familiar routes from his recollections.

By the time the sun set, Wang Jue had finally made his way through the significant paths he remembered. The night was pitch-black, the streets dimly lit by a few bulbs, insufficient to illuminate the road.

Seeing the hour grow late, Wang Jue abandoned his wandering and prepared to head home. He’d already explored enough for the day; anything else could wait.

To return quickly, Wang Jue chose the same small lane he’d come by—lit only by a few faint streetlights—rather than the busy main road.

Though the night was dark and the lane deserted except for himself, Wang Jue felt no fear unless he met trouble beyond his ability.

After all, he was already at the Body Refinement stage. While the weakest among martial artists, he was strong compared to ordinary people. Against martial artists of his own rank, victory was uncertain, but ordinary people posed no threat.

Besides, no martial artist would bother sneaking around here. This was an area meant for common folk, not the special neighborhoods reserved for martial artists and their families.

Still, Wang Jue knew nothing was absolute. Every person’s character and values differed, so their actions varied.

For most martial artists, rather than stoop to petty crime, it was better to hunt star beasts in the wild. Yet for those unwilling to venture out, raising their cultivation required resources, and their only options were robbery or theft.

The former was high-risk, high-reward, with one’s life on the line; the latter, though less lucrative, was safer.