The first light of dawn broke over the distant mountains, shrouded in a thin veil of mist. At the foot of the outer hills of Xuantian Sect, a bustling crowd gathered, eagerly awaiting the annual disciple recruitment trials.
Amid the crowd stood Ye Chen, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. In front of him was a half-man-high crystalline stone, glowing faintly—a device used to test the aptitude of spiritual roots.
When his turn came, a murmur of whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Isn't that the unlucky kid from the Ye family?"
"I heard he was born without spiritual roots—a total cripple."
"Hah, what's the point of a cripple coming here to try for the path of cultivation? A joke, really."
The mocking laughter pierced Ye Chen's ears like needles, but he merely gritted his teeth and stepped forward with determination. Slowly, he placed his hand on the stone. It glimmered faintly but showed no significant reaction.
"As expected, trash!" The supervising elder sneered, flinging the recording jade slip aside with disdain. "No elemental attributes in the spiritual roots. Incapable of cultivation. Next!"
The crowd erupted into laughter, their jeers cutting through Ye Chen like blades.
Without a word, Ye Chen lowered his gaze to his trembling hands. This wasn't the first time he had endured such humiliation. Since his parents' untimely deaths, he had become the object of scorn. Even with the only relic left by his parents—a worn-out spatial ring—he had no way to change his fate.
"Ye Chen!" A familiar voice suddenly called out. Emerging from the crowd was a young man clad in a luxurious purple robe. It was Qin Yang, a prodigy of Xuantian Sect's inner disciples.
"Why is Senior Brother Qin Yang here?"
"They say the Ye family's downfall had something to do with the Qin family. This should be interesting."
Ye Chen's gaze turned icy as he stared at Qin Yang, whose face bore a mocking smirk. "Ye Chen, I must admire your courage. Knowing you're a cripple and yet coming here to make a fool of yourself?"
Ye Chen remained silent, his unyielding gaze locked on Qin Yang.
"What's this? Not convinced?" Qin Yang sneered and kicked over the crystalline stone beside Ye Chen. "In the world of cultivation, only the strong are respected. Someone like you doesn't even deserve to walk the path of cultivation."
"The strong are respected?" A faint smirk tugged at Ye Chen's lips. He crouched to pick up the toppled crystalline stone and set it upright again. "If that's the case, one day, I'll make you understand who the strong truly are."
Qin Yang's expression darkened for a moment, but a derisive grin soon returned. Disdainfully, he turned and left, his laughter fading into the distance, leaving the crowd's ridicule lingering in the air.
Ye Chen turned and walked away from the trial grounds, heading toward the forest beyond the sect's outer gates. He followed the narrow path until he reached a secluded area, where he finally stopped and sat cross-legged. Taking out the old spatial ring, he gazed at it in silence.
"Father, Mother, you were revered sword immortals. And yet, I'm left to bear the ridicule of the world… How do I escape this fate?"
His murmurs were filled with despair as he clutched the ring tightly, grasping it as though it were his last hope. Suddenly, the ring emitted a faint glow.
"What is this…?" Ye Chen froze. The ring seemed alive, trembling slightly in his grasp. A sudden, powerful suction emerged from it, and his consciousness was abruptly pulled into a strange dimension.
It was an expansive and boundless space, filled with countless ancient sword shadows swirling in every direction. A dignified, ancient voice echoed in his ears: "The Heavenly Fate Vein, unseen in millennia… At last, you have arrived."
Ye Chen looked up to see an elderly man with flowing white hair suspended in the air. Holding a phantom-like long sword, the man radiated an aura so overwhelming it seemed as though the entire space bowed to his will.
"Who are you?" Ye Chen asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"I am the Nine Heavens Sword God. This sword domain is the inheritance I left behind," the elder declared, his voice resounding like thunder. "Though the world calls you a cripple, you bear the Heavenly Fate Vein. While useless to ordinary cultivation, it is the supreme vessel for swordsmanship."
"The Heavenly Fate Vein…" Ye Chen repeated the words, a mix of confusion and awe flashing in his eyes.
"If you wish to inherit my path of the sword, all the knowledge and power within this domain shall be yours. But the path of the sword is fraught with peril, and death may come at any step. Do you have the resolve?"
Ye Chen's fists tightened, and a fiery determination ignited in his gaze. "I do!"
The Sword God nodded approvingly. With a wave of his hand, countless sword shadows merged into streams of light that surged into Ye Chen's body. Intense pain burned through his veins like fire, but Ye Chen clenched his teeth, enduring it without a sound.
"Remember, the path of the sword has nine stages. Only by uniting your heart with the sword can you achieve invincibility," the Sword God's voice faded, and the space dissolved into nothingness.
When Ye Chen opened his eyes, he found himself back in the forest, clutching the spatial ring. His entire demeanor had transformed. His gaze now carried a sharpness, like an unsheathed blade.
He stood and casually swung his hand. An invisible sword energy rippled out, cutting through the vegetation ten steps ahead.
"From this day forth, I, Ye Chen, will no longer be a disgrace."
He lifted his head, his eyes blazing with unrelenting determination as he looked toward the distant Xuantian Sect. "Qin Yang, Xuantian Sect… Soon, you will learn what true talent is."
This expanded chapter offers detailed descriptions and emotional depth to fully immerse the reader in Ye Chen's journey of awakening. Let me know if further refinements are needed!