Nine Years Old!

Chen Fan's body had become a battlefield.

The power of his Qi and Blood surged like searing magma, scorching his meridians and boiling his flesh wherever it passed, as if it would burn him to ashes from the inside out.

The power of the stars was like an arctic gale blowing from the Nine Netherworlds. It invaded him inch by inch, freezing his bones and congealing his organs, trying to freeze and extinguish his life force completely.

One cold and one hot, the two equally tyrannical forces clashed and annihilated each other in every corner of his body, in the most primal, most savage collision!

Ripping!

Shattering!

Reforming!

The agony had long since surpassed the limits of what his nerves could perceive, becoming a pure wave of destruction rising from the depths of his soul.

Any martial artist with a slightly weaker will, even a veteran warrior hardened by countless battles, would already have suffered a mental collapse and been torn to pieces by this storm of energy.

Yet at the heart of the storm of destruction, Chen Fan's adult soul was calmer than ever.

Not enough!

Still not enough!

His consciousness became an icy vortex. Rather than suppressing the storm, he circulated the Star-Transferring Blood Art with abandon, willingly turning himself into a furnace to guide it!

His Qi and Blood were the fuel, the stars his hammer!

His meridians were the furnace, his flesh and blood the iron!

Boom!!!

Under this frenzied tempering that bordered on self-mutilation, the prospective martial artist bottleneck barring his path, as solid as if it had been cast from divine iron, finally groaned under the strain of that world-destroying power.

A nearly imperceptible crack quietly appeared.

Then came a second, a third...

Crack!

Like the first thunderclap at the birth of the universe, the bottleneck shattered!

At that moment, the indestructible barrier was swept away in an instant, as if it were made of paper!

The dam burst!

Chen Fan's vast Qi and Blood, all fifty-seven calories of it, seemed to find an outlet. It instantly became a roaring torrent, swallowing the Nine-Orifice Dragon Blood Pill's remaining medicinal power like a whale!

His Qi and Blood, once somewhat impure, were washed, refined, and compressed again and again by the cold power of the stars!

Traces of impurities were mercilessly stripped away, escaping his pores as black smoke that faded into nothing.

His Qi and Blood became purer and more concentrated than ever. In the mingling of ice and fire, they also acquired a trace of the tyrannical draconic might of a Primordial Sub-Dragon, and a wisp of the aloofness and cold of the vast starry sky!

Time slipped by unnoticed.

When the first rays of morning light shone through the dome and illuminated the wrecked training room,

Chen Fan, seated cross-legged, slowly opened his eyes.

His eyes were as deep as the night, as though stars were being born and dying within them. His clothes had long since turned to ashes, and a thin layer of foul-smelling black blood had crusted over his skin.

He stood up calmly. As he rose, the crust cracked and peeled away inch by inch, revealing skin as delicate as a newborn's, yet glowing faintly like jade.

He walked up to the cold military-grade testing machine. Without gathering strength or taking a stance, he simply threw a casual punch forward.

Hum!!!

The number on the light screen shot past the fifty-calorie mark without the slightest delay, climbing with unprecedented ferocity and showing no sign of slowing!

Sixty!

Sixty-one!

Sixty-two!

Finally, with a faint beep, the number settled.

[Qi and Blood: 65.3 calories]

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, at Jiangnan No. 1 High School.

Sandalwood incense curled through an elegant, old-fashioned study.

After listening to Wei Tianlong's harrowing, at times even incoherent report, the old principal, white-haired and white-bearded, with an aura as deep as an abyss, fell silent for a long time.

He simply gazed at the file on Chen Fan displayed on the light screen, marked top secret.

After a long while, he finally spoke, his voice carrying a touch of age and weathered experience, as well as a hint of emotion he could not suppress.

"A monster like this cannot be judged by ordinary standards."

"Wei Tianlong."

"Yes, Principal!"

Wei Tianlong abruptly straightened, his expression tense.

The white-haired principal kept his eyes on the light screen and, enunciating every word, made a decision that could stir up a storm at Jiangnan No. 1 High School.

"Pass on my orders."

"When Chen Fan enrolls, he will not need to take any class placement tests. He will go straight into the first-year..."

"Prodigy Class!"

The Prodigy Class!

Wei Tianlong was shaken to his core!

It was no ordinary class for top students. It brought together the most outstanding, most monstrous prodigies from all thirty-six cities of the Jiangnan Region!

Hong Yi of the Hong Family, a born warrior, and Qin Wuyue of the Qin Family, a swordsmanship genius... every one of them was a true prodigy whose Qi and Blood had long since broken through sixty calories, and whose pride soared to the heavens!

But he did not hesitate for a moment. He struck his chest sharply and acknowledged the order in a deep voice.

"Yes, Principal!"

Time flew.

The Martial Dao exchange tournament in East Sea City had long since become a topic of casual conversation.

The sweltering summer vacation was quietly drawing to a close.

During those months, Chen Fan's life was as simple as could be.

He traveled back and forth between the special-grade training room and the old house.

Like a greedy sponge, he absorbed knowledge voraciously and consolidated his rapidly increased cultivation. His control over the Star-Transferring Blood Art had long since shed the awkwardness of a beginner; it came increasingly naturally, as easily as moving his own arm.

Late at night, all was quiet.

In a room of the old house, Chen Fan lay in bed, quietly watching the old clock on the wall.

The second hand ticked, ticked.

Even his ever-calm heart stirred with the faintest hint of anticipation.

At last, the second, minute, and hour hands slowly came together at twelve.

A new day arrived.

He was nine years old.

At that very instant, a faint light visible only to him quietly appeared in his field of vision.

[Ding!]

[Annual talent calculation complete!]

[Martial Dao Talent +2560]

Chen Fan's eyes flew open, his pupils startlingly bright in the darkness.

He eagerly looked at the most important field on the light screen.

[Martial Dao Talent: 5110 (one in a thousand)]

Although the system still rated Chen Fan as one in a thousand, he could clearly feel that his thinking seemed to have become more nimble.

He had even gained some new insights into cultivating the Star-Transferring Blood Art.

Perhaps... I can cultivate the Star-Transferring Blood Art to minor mastery!

Chen Fan's heart stirred. He immediately jumped out of bed, ready to continue cultivating.

The G-7 Resource Planet, ruins.

The air reeked of burnt metal, mixed with the distinctive stench of alien insect blood, acrid enough to make one's throat go dry.

Wrecked Federation mechs lay piled among hideous purple carapaces, forming a hellish tableau beneath the planet's dim starlight.

The aftermath of the battle had only just subsided. Electric arcs still occasionally leaped across twisted steel bars, crackling softly.

Two figures rose beside the corpse of a giant mantis exotic beast that had been beheaded.

Their standard-issue battle armor was covered in claw marks deep enough to expose bone. Their dark blue paintwork was mottled with purple insect blood and dried black engine oil.

"Can you still walk?"

Chen Long's voice was hoarse as he supported Luo Mengjie at his side.

The armor on her left arm had been torn away at the shoulder, exposing a grisly wound. Basic medical gel glimmered faintly, barely staunching the blood that continued to seep out.

"I won't die."

Luo Mengjie gritted her teeth and reached back to grasp her husband's arm, using it to steady herself.

Chen Long was in equally bad shape. Half his helmet's visor was shattered, revealing a face etched with exhaustion yet still resolute. A fresh streak of blood ran from his temple across his eyebrow.

Dragging their feet, they joined the other three surviving members of Thunder Squad and silently boarded the Vulture assault ship for the return journey.

No one spoke.

Inside the cramped cabin, there was only the metallic scrape of armor against the floor and their heavy breathing.

The relief of surviving disaster had long since been worn numb by battle after bloody battle, leaving only exhaustion that reached into their bones.

Half an hour later, the assault ship docked smoothly at the spaceport of No. 368 Battlefield Fortress.

Back in their assigned alloy dormitory, barely more than ten square meters in size, the two removed their heavy armor, fully revealing their injuries and exhaustion.

A new, shallow scar marked Luo Mengjie's face, lending her formerly gentle features a touch of severity. She sat on the edge of the cold alloy bed, tending to her wounds with practiced, mechanical, numb movements.

Her gaze happened to fall on the Blue Star time displayed by the optical computer embedded in the wall.

Her body suddenly stiffened.

Her gaze froze.

The hand holding the disinfectant spray stopped in midair.

"Chen..."

Her voice was so soft that a breeze seemed enough to scatter it, yet it carried a barely perceptible tremor.

"Today... is Xiao Fan's ninth birthday."

Her words were like a depth charge dropped into the deathly silent room.

Chen Long, who had been treating a wound on his leg, stopped as well.

Only the faint hum of the medical equipment remained in the room.

Luo Mengjie could instantly see her son's little face, almost always expressionless, and his small, thin figure, always sitting alone in a corner in a daze.

Every word on the diagnosis they had locked away deep in their memories stabbed into her heart like a poisoned needle.

Mediocre aptitude.

With a tendency toward autism.

Has he grown taller...?

Can Grandpa take good care of him?

Does Grandpa know how to make the sweet-and-sour pork tenderloin he loves?

Will the children at school bully him because he's different?

Will he be called trash by the other children again, like before, and then shut himself away without saying a word?

At the thought, Luo Mengjie's heart felt as though an invisible hand had seized it, the pain so great she could scarcely breathe.

Chen Long silently walked over and sat beside his wife. His broad hand, covered in calluses and fresh wounds, gently settled over the back of Luo Mengjie's icy hand.

He wanted to offer her some comfort.

But looking at his hands, covered in blood and engine oil, he felt as though something had lodged firmly in his throat, leaving him unable to utter a word.

They were powerful martial artists, warriors who guarded the Starry Sky Frontline and could fight hideous exotic beasts without so much as a change of expression.

Yet they could not properly protect their own son.

They could not even wish him a happy birthday in person.

Chen Long slowly raised his head and gazed through the porthole at the cold, lifeless expanse of space, where patrol ships occasionally cut through the darkness. After a long while, he let out a sigh full of pain and helplessness.

"The fighting on the front line is getting worse, and the interference with quantum communications is getting stronger. Last month, another communications base station on the neighboring G-8 Resource Planet was wiped out by an insect tide."

"I don't even know..." He paused, his voice growing more strained. "When we'll get to see Xiao Fan again."

Luo Mengjie did not answer. She simply rested her head gently on her husband's shoulder, her shoulders trembling slightly.

They had left their son in what they believed was the safest place behind the lines, far from this cruel expanse of stars.

They had thought that was the best protection they could give him.

The couple sank into longing for their son and boundless guilt.