The Golden Generation
It was as though his Soul Power itself carried a corrosive property, causing whatever it touched to crack apart from within.
Watching the bamboo roots shatter from the inside, Lin Qing suddenly thought of something.
He stopped trying to cover the entire arena and instead contracted Bamboo Sea Emergence to within thirty feet of himself. The bamboo clustered tightly around him, forming a thick shell.
After the man slipped inside, the bamboo continued to grow, but each time it sprang out from the inner side. Whenever he turned, it blocked his retreat and forced him to change direction. At last, the man's speed was forced to drop by half a beat.
Taking advantage of that instant of reduced speed, Lin Qing released Bamboo Soul and locked onto the path of the man's next attack. Then the power of ice and fire gathered in his palm in a golden leaf, which gave off the presence of ice and fire, as if it might explode at any moment.
His hand rose, and the bamboo leaf containing concentrated ice and fire elements shot out. The man raised a hand to block it, and ice and fire burst at the point of contact. His sleeve split open in an instant, exposing an old scar that ran from his wrist all the way to the crook of his elbow.
His movements paused for half a breath. In the next second, however, the bamboo leaf flashed, the ice and fire elements exploded, and he was blasted dozens of steps away. He lowered his head to look at the old scar on his wrist, now frozen by the chill, as waves of burning pain came from it.
"I admit defeat," he said.
He withdrew his hand and took a step back. The deacon's voice rang out. "Number four wins."
Lin Qing withdrew Bamboo Sea Emergence. The bamboo stalks retreated one by one into the cracks between the flagstones, and the green-gold motes of light scattered. He glanced down at his palm; the light of the two marks was slowly fading. He raised his head and looked at the deacon.
The deacon closed the register and glanced at him. "Congratulations. Report to the main building tomorrow to collect your Golden Generation reserve token."
The courtyard was quiet. The remaining people gradually dispersed; some glanced at Lin Qing as they passed him, while others did not.
He did not linger, turning and heading back to his lodging. The stone house's door stood slightly ajar and made a faint sound when he pushed it open. The bronze plaque lay on the table, touched by a faint glow in the morning light.
He picked up the bronze plaque and turned it over. There was nothing on the back, as clean as it had been yesterday, as clean as it had been the day before.
Early the next morning, Lin Qing rose before dawn.
The sky had yet to brighten fully, and he had already been sitting at the edge of his bed for a while. The bronze plaque lay on the table, tinged with a faint gold by the morning light. He reached out, picked it up, and spun it once between his fingers before tucking it into his robes and going out the door.
The morning mist had yet to clear from the courtyard, and a thin layer of moisture coated the flagstones. He crossed the front courtyard and entered the main building to the north. It stood taller than the row of stone houses where he lived, its outer walls faced with dark gray blocks of stone. A wooden plaque was set into the lintel, engraved with the words "Golden Generation."
The door was open. Lin Qing walked into a long hall, with benches lining the walls on both sides and a desk at the far end. A middle-aged man in gray robes sat behind the desk, looking down as he leafed through a register.
"Name."
"Lin Qing."
The gray-robed man flipped through a few pages, made a check mark, and took a silver token from a drawer, handing it over. The words "Golden Generation" were engraved on the front, and two crossed swords and a crown were engraved on the back.
Lin Qing accepted the token. Its silver surface was cold, and it was much heavier than the bronze plaque. He nodded and turned to leave.
As he reached the entrance to the hall, several people emerged from a corridor to the side. In the lead was a blond young man, tall and slender, with sharply defined features and a naturally oppressive presence about his brow.
A man and a woman followed behind him. The man's hair was rather long and tied at the back of his head, and a faint scar ran from his temple to the base of his ear. The woman's purple hair fell over her shoulders, and her eyes were a rare deep purple, her gaze calm and sharp.
Lin Qing recognized them. Hu Liena, Xie Yue, and Yan-Bibi Dong's personal disciples and the core trio of the Golden Generation.
The blond youth-Yan-swept his gaze over Lin Qing, then paused on the silver token in his hand. His expression scarcely changed; he merely turned his head and said something to Xie Yue beside him.
Xie Yue glanced at Lin Qing and gave a faint nod in greeting. Hu Liena's gaze lingered on Lin Qing a moment longer, a quiet scrutiny in her deep purple eyes. Then she looked away and walked with the other two toward the corridor on the other side of the hall.
Lin Qing did not go over to speak to them. He stood at the entrance, watching the three of them disappear down the corridor, then turned and left the main building.
Most of the morning mist had cleared from the courtyard. Lin Qing found a step to sit on and laid the silver token on his knee. He looked down at the words "Golden Generation" engraved on it. The strokes were deep, and tiny burrs still lined their edges.
Hu Liena, Xie Yue, Yan. The core trio of the Golden Generation in the original story. Now they're Bibi Dong's personal disciples, standing at the very top of Spirit Hall's pyramid. And I'm just a newcomer who's only just received a token, an outsider who fought his way up from the regional competition.
"Ah Zhu," he said softly.
"Mm." Lone Bamboo's voice came from his sea of consciousness.
"If I want to get my hands on Spirit Hall's core resources, I'll have to establish a foothold among these people first."
"Then what are you planning to do?"
Lin Qing turned the token over and glanced at the sword-and-crown emblem before tucking it into his robes. "First I'll see how they fight, then figure out how I should fight."
He stood and headed toward the training grounds. The five o'clock bell would soon ring.
After receiving the silver token, Lin Qing did not immediately go to report in.
Back at his lodging, he placed the token on the table and looked at it for a long time.
The words "Golden Generation" were on the front, the sword-and-crown emblem on the back. Tiny burrs still lined the edge, and he could feel the slight ridge beneath his fingers.
The token itself contained the breath of life, and he could also use it to cultivate.
He sat for a while and circulated Bamboo Breath through his body once. His meridians were clear, and the Ice and Fire Dual Crystals rested quietly deep within the bamboo body. Everything was in a steady state, as still as a pool of water untouched by wind.
But he knew that this pool was not yet deep enough.
"Ah Zhu."
"Mm." Lone Bamboo's voice came from his sea of consciousness.
"There are Soul Ancestors and Soul Kings in the Golden Generation. I can handle the speed and precision of Shen Du's short spear now, but only just. I only saw Hu Liena, Xie Yue, and Yan from a distance, but that presence didn't seem like that of ordinary Soul Ancestors."
"They really aren't ordinary. They're Bibi Dong's personal disciples, raised on the best resources Spirit Hall has to offer." Lone Bamboo paused. "What are you trying to say?"
Lin Qing glanced down at the silver token on the table. "I want to strengthen my foundations first. When I spread Bamboo Sea Emergence over a thousand feet, I noticed that the larger the area, the harder it was to control precisely. I want to train until I can spread it as far as I want and withdraw it as fast as I want."
There was a pause. "How long are you planning to train?"
"I don't know. Until it's time to go."
Early the next morning, Lin Qing did not go to the main building to report in. He left the courtyard of Spirit City's main competition grounds and headed out of the city.
After walking for half an hour along the dirt road that led from the regional competition grounds to the main competition grounds, he stopped in front of a barren slope.
Sparse, withered grass grew on the slope, and the ground was cracked yellow earth. There were no stone houses or people anywhere around.