Knowing Despair Deeply Makes You Value Hope

In the 2086th year of the common era, Hua Nation, Yu Prefecture.

Bay City Martial Arts High School.

Yang Sheng bought a serving of tofu and Chinese cabbage at the cafeteria window, took four steamed buns as well, and sat in a corner to eat heartily.

An old-fashioned radio in the middle of the cafeteria was playing the news of the day.

"Recently, the Starship Federation passed the martial arts management resolution, confirming the consensus principle of class-divided cultivation. Forty-five countries voted in favor, and Hua Nation abstained..."

Listening to the news, Yang Sheng used the last half of a steamed bun to mop up the vegetable juice and swallowed it in one gulp.

The sky outside was overcast with dark clouds. Yang Sheng put away his meal tray and walked briskly back to the martial arts practice room in the teaching building.

"Monitor, is it still sparring at seven o'clock tonight?" Yang Sheng called out respectfully.

"Don't call me monitor anymore."

The short-haired man wearing practice clothes did not even raise his head, striking the wooden post with punch after punch.

"The news I just received is that Yu Prefecture will become a pilot zone for implementing class-divided cultivation. From now on, martial arts will only be open to family descendants who possess cultivation resources."

"You don't need to come here anymore."

The brief sentence struck Yang Sheng like a bolt from the blue, instantly making him feel dizzy.

"Monitor, you aren't joking, are you? I just heard the news that Hua Nation abstained on the martial arts management resolution, and besides, I entered the martial arts high school through exams in the first place..."

Although he said that, Yang Sheng had heard rumors two years earlier that other countries had already implemented class-divided cultivation.

Thirty years ago, in order to concentrate resources, the Starship Federation was established. Since then, the globe began dividing registries. A portion of people who grasped absolute martial arts resources were classified as the upper registry, while more mortals were classified as the lower registry.

As for Yang Sheng, he was a commoner from the lower registry.

Monitor Li Yan stopped his movements.

"You indeed entered the martial arts high school through exams, but after three years here, you should understand that you do not have the aptitude to attend a martial arts university."

"This is also the head teacher's intention. As the pilot of pilots, Bay City Martial Arts High School has to hand over dazzling results to the higher-ups this year. He hopes you will voluntarily drop out."

Yang Sheng raised his head in disbelief.

"It's because of this?"

He had thought that as long as he worked hard, worked hard, and worked harder, he would be able to gain the school's approval. Never had he expected that from the very beginning, he was merely an encumbrance in the school's eyes.

"Monitor, can you speak with the head teacher again? I put a lot of effort into it every day. I've been your sparring partner since the first year of high school, and after practicing for three years, even if I didn't achieve greatness, I put in hard work. If I drop out, everything I've done will be wasted."

"I only hope to attend a martial arts university. Even if I go to university and continue to be your sparring partner, I am willing."

Yang Sheng was practically driven to despair.

He knew very well that students of martial arts high schools looked infinitely glorious to outsiders.

Yet in reality, the polarization was extremely severe. Among students of the same class, only the class officers appointed by the head teacher could learn true cultivation techniques.

As for students like them, they could only learn basic techniques. The reason he was willing to be Li Yan's sparring partner was precisely because he could learn martial arts cultivation techniques during sparring.

For the sake of cultivation, he acted as Li Yan's human punching bag every single day.

Over the past three years, Li Yan had kicked his leg until it broke once, fractured two of his ribs, and once Li Yan even entered a blood-boiling state and locked Yang Sheng in a naked choke, almost killing him!

Even so, Yang Sheng still shouldered grievances without complaint, solely to obtain that tiny bit of martial arts cultivation technique resources.

Because in this world, only by entering a martial arts university could one cast off registry restrictions.

Yang Sheng gritted his teeth and persisted through more than a thousand days and nights for this sliver of hope, yet now that he was about to see hope, Li Yan smashed it completely with a single sentence, turning hope into despair.

"Wasn't what I said clear enough?"

Li Yan's gaze was cold.

"Class-divided cultivation is the general trend. The upper registry, possessing resources, can sense the star source, become martial artists, and resist alien races."

"The lower registry should look like the lower registry. I remember you're a commoner; you should go back to your hometown to farm grain, rather than thinking about going to university here."

"Furthermore, I dislike practicing martial arts on the same stage as a lower-registry pariah. It makes me feel disgusted."

This string of words struck Yang Sheng's heart like a heavy hammer.

He felt that his pleading words just now were somewhat laughable; as it turned out, Li Yan had never regarded him as a classmate at all.

His sole value here was as a human punching bag, and now that he was about to lose his value, he was kicked away just like garbage.

Li Yan sneered.

"I hope you can see the situation clearly. Dropping out yourself can still save you some dignity; don't make me help you save face. At the martial arts entrance exam a month from now, I will personally intercept all overambitious lower-registry pariahs. If you insist on participating, you can come and try."

As Li Yan's voice trailed off, Yang Sheng's heart gradually sank as well.

The family behind Li Yan was a branch of the Yu Prefecture Li clan. Although they were a collateral branch, they also held pivotal status in Bay City.

The Bay City Li Group behind him controlled one-third of the real estate and a quarter of the medicinal material resources in Bay City.

At the same time, they were also one of the seven major directors of Bay City Martial Arts High School.

His network of connections pervaded the entire Bay City, like a massive net that shrouded those lower registries of theirs who lacked background and resources.

When he first enrolled three years ago, the gap between him and Li Yan was not large.

Yet over the past three years, Li Yan practiced martial arts techniques, with various great medicines paving the way, and had already pulled two realms ahead of him.

Upper-registry family descendants were naturally lifted up; even with mediocre talent, they could still attain a measure of achievement.

Meanwhile, lower-registry commoners could only rely on themselves to trudge forward step by step.

Throughout three years of high school, Yang Sheng had never relaxed for even a moment.

After finishing his sparring with Li Yan, he dragged his injured body to ponder martial arts techniques after class.

He silently practiced at home even until the moon was bright and the stars were sparse.

Even with such effort, he had merely mastered a few superficial skills.

The martial arts entrance exam allowed all students of martial arts high schools to participate, seeming fair on the surface.

Yet how could students from the lower registry like them compete on the same stage as upper-registry students?

"However, you had better prepare yourself. Life and death are uncertain at the martial arts entrance exam, and I will personally kill you with my fists."

This sentence was like the final falling gavel of judgment, completely plunging Yang Sheng's heart into ashes.

A sudden clap of thunder rolled across the sky.

Yang Sheng walked out of the teaching building. Fine raindrops began to fall, and the surrounding students all ducked into the teaching building to take shelter from the rain.

Only Yang Sheng walked against the flow of people toward the outside of the school.

His ears gradually stopped hearing the noisy sounds around him, leaving only Li Yan's final warning echoing in his mind.

"I will personally kill you with my fists..."

Yang Sheng raised his head as the heavy rain poured down.

"I have no chance of getting into a martial arts university..."

All his past efforts seemed to dissolve into nothingness at this moment, crashing heavily onto the ground.

Treated as unmentionable filth, they washed into the sewer mixed with rainwater.

Pedestrians hurried along the road. Yang Sheng walked in the rain, and before he knew it when he raised his head again, he discovered that he was already standing at his front door.

Lower-registry commoners lacked the qualifications to buy housing in the city.

Yang Sheng and his father rented a house in an urban village in Bay City.

Looking at the familiar old-style wooden door, Yang Sheng only then slowly regained his wits.

He wiped the rainwater from his hair and patted his face with his hand.

He forced out a smile.

"Dad, I'm back."

Pushing open the door, Father Yang was carrying a pot of porridge and placing it on the table.

"Xiao Sheng is back. Sit down quickly. I finished work early tonight and made two extra dishes."

Father Yang was a freight truck driver. He finished work and came home to cook every night at eight o'clock, and would conveniently cook a little extra to serve as Yang Sheng's late-night supplemental meal.

For someone practicing martial arts, eating was crucial.

On the table sat a plate of eggplant stir-fried with lard, a plate of shredded stir-fried potatoes, coarse-flour steamed buns, and porridge.

Every morning around three or four o'clock, Father Yang would go to the vegetable market to haul vegetables, where cargo owners would throw away some produce of poor appearance.

At times like this, Father Yang would pick up all those unwanted vegetables and bring them home.

Although the appearance of the vegetables was poor, they were sufficiently fresh.

Yang Sheng sat down beside the table, picked up a coarse-flour steamed bun, and took a bite. It tasted like chewed wax.

At this time in the past, he would always have finished sparring with Li Yan and added his own extra practice sessions.

Even if he had eaten dinner at night, he would always be famished upon returning home, and anything he ate tasted delicious.

Today, however, he was extremely heartbroken and had zero appetite.

He did not want his father to notice, so he still ate the steamed buns in large bites, washing them down with the porridge.

Father Yang peeled an egg and placed it in Yang Sheng's bowl.

"There's only one month left until the martial arts entrance exam. Once the exam is over, Xiao Sheng will be a martial arts university student."

Yang Sheng buried his head in his bowl: "Mm."

"How are things at school these days? Have your techniques improved at all?"

Father Yang asked with a trace of expectation.

"Everything is quite good. The classmates take good care of me, and the head teacher approves of me too. If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to pass the martial arts entrance exam without a hitch."

Yang Sheng raised his head, a smile plastered across his face. With a relaxed and confident tone, he repeated what he had said for three years.

Throughout these three years, he had never let his father worry about him.

Even when injured and his father spotted it, he would claim it was an accident caused by being too focused during martial arts practice.

He did not wish for his sad emotions to be seen by his father; his father already labored hard enough, and he could not bear to let his heart suffer even more.

Hearing these words, Yang Sheng's father immediately beamed with joy.

Even his lumbar spine, severely strained from years of driving, straightened a bit.

In their hometown, Yang Sheng was the only student who had been admitted to Bay City Martial Arts High School.

He was the pride of the people back home.

"I have confidence in you. If you perform well this time, you might even be able to sprint for a martial arts bachelor's degree, but don't put too much pressure on yourself; you need to know how to adjust."

Yang Sheng knew that in his father's heart, he was a genius capable of being admitted to Bay City Martial Arts High School.

His future prospects were boundless.

Just yesterday, he himself had actually thought the same way.

But now, he knew that with only one month left, it was all over.

"Dad, don't worry, I will definitely perform well and strive to get a martial arts bachelor's degree. Once I graduate, I'll be qualified to enlist in the military, and maybe I'll even be selected for the Starship Corps to go to the moon and fight alien races. By then, a month of my salary will be enough for you to work a whole year, and I'll buy you a big house and take you to high-end restaurants for dinner."

The apartment the father and son rented was fifty square meters large. After partitioning off two bedrooms, the kitchen and living room were crammed together.

To use the restroom, they had to go to the public toilet across the street.

Moving into a big house had always been Yang Sheng's wish.

"As long as you're safe, healthy, and amount to something, Dad will be content, and working will give me energy."

Hearing his father's words, Yang Sheng's nose tinged with soreness.

He did not want his father to know that the bright life they hoped for in the future had already been shattered.

Perhaps it was truly as Li Yan had said, and the thing he should do in the future was return to his hometown to grow crops.

Yet Yang Sheng clearly knew that when his father had brought him out of the village,

their arable land had already been reclaimed—that was the price for lower registry plebeians to leave.

Behind him lay no retreat, only a bottomless cliff.

Yang Sheng's heart began to pound heavily.

It was as if a ball of endless fury was surging forth from within it.

Why! A single word from Li Yan can decide my fate!

Accompanied by monstrous rage,

a line of text appeared in his mind.

[Martial God's Destiny Soul]

[Every fist practiced counts as a hundred!]

[Martial cultivation never regresses; every bit of arduous training will be corrected by the Martial God's Destiny Soul to the most correct trajectory, accumulating endlessly, breaking through upper limits, without end!]