The sun barely broke through the thick clouds hanging over the Jade Mountain Sect, casting a dull, muted light over the training grounds. Despite the lack of sunlight, the air was thick with the sound of weapons clashing, bodies moving, and spiritual energy being harnessed.
Yang Kai stood at the back of the arena, his body half-slouched, looking like he didn't belong. His eyes wandered aimlessly over the other disciples—each one moving with the grace of a trained warrior, their auras radiating power and confidence. In contrast, his posture was weak, his robe ill-fitting and dirty. His hands were empty. His cultivation base barely flickered.
At 18 years old, he should have been a prodigy by now—perhaps even an inner disciple of the sect. Instead, Yang Kai was nothing more than the sect's embarrassment.
He could still remember when he first joined the sect, bright-eyed and hopeful, eager to train and prove himself. But as the years passed, reality settled in. His spiritual roots were weak, his aptitude for cultivation near non-existent, and his growth had stagnated since the very first day he picked up a cultivation technique. His body, though seemingly normal, refused to absorb spiritual energy efficiently. No amount of practice, no amount of effort seemed to help.
"Hey, Yang Kai! Don't just stand there like an idiot! Are you practicing or sleeping?" someone shouted across the training ground.
Yang Kai didn't even look up. He knew it was Zhao Ling, one of the arrogant inner disciples who'd spent the last year tormenting him. Zhao had reached the late stage of Qi Condensation and had mastered techniques that Yang Kai couldn't even dream of. To Zhao, Yang Kai was nothing but a punching bag, a joke.
"Whatever," Yang Kai muttered, sinking to the ground in frustration. His legs trembled from the effort of standing all morning, and his chest felt heavy. Cultivation was a joke to him at this point. Every day, it was the same: breathe, practice the same basic techniques, fail, and go to sleep. He had no friends here, no supporters, just ridicule.
What's the point anymore? he thought bitterly. I'll never be strong. I'll never be like them. I'm just… a waste.
He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing for escape, for something to break him free from this endless cycle of mediocrity.
Then, a strange sensation prickled at the back of his mind. It was like a faint whisper, just on the edge of his hearing.
Ding!
The sound rang through his thoughts, almost imperceptible at first. He froze, eyes snapping open. His breath caught in his throat. What was that? A voice?
Another notification, clearer this time.
"Host detected. System initiating…"
Yang Kai's heart pounded in his chest. What the hell was going on? He quickly glanced around, but the other disciples were too caught up in their own training to notice anything unusual.
His body tingled with an unknown energy, a wave of cold washing over him. Am I hallucinating? he wondered, his mind still racing. I've been pushing myself too hard lately...
But the voice didn't stop. It only grew louder in his mind.
"Face-Slapping System activated!"
"System? Activated?" Yang Kai's voice was barely a whisper, barely audible over the chaos of the training grounds. His heart was racing. Was he hearing things? Was he finally losing his mind?
The voice responded again, with a sense of urgency and clarity.
"System Info: Gain cultivation points by humiliating arrogant individuals."
Yang Kai blinked, unsure whether to laugh or be terrified. Humiliate people?
"First task: Face-slap one arrogant individual to earn 500 points. Failure to comply will result in system malfunction."
His mind went blank for a moment. A cold sweat formed on his brow. Did… did the system just ask me to slap someone? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This is insane. I've got to be dreaming. There's no way...
But the more he thought about it, the more intrigued he became. Humiliating arrogant disciples? That was something Yang Kai could do. In fact, that was all he wanted to do. Every day, he was tormented by disciples like Zhao Ling, laughed at and belittled. If this "system" really existed, maybe it was the break he needed.
And the more he thought about it, the more the idea of slapping someone filled him with a strange kind of exhilaration. He hadn't felt that way in years. But who should he slap? Zhao Ling. Of course, it had to be Zhao.
Yang Kai looked up, his gaze landing on the man in question. There he was, in the center of the arena, surrounded by his sycophants, boasting about his latest accomplishments. The arrogant bastard. The way he carried himself—like he owned the world—was enough to make anyone's blood boil.
There's my target, Yang Kai thought, his fists clenching at his sides. Zhao Ling, I'm going to slap you so hard you'll wish you never existed.
Without another moment's hesitation, he got to his feet and started walking toward the group of disciples. He didn't even care that they all turned to look at him, their eyes filled with disdain and amusement. For once, he wasn't afraid of their ridicule.
"Hey, Zhao Ling!" Yang Kai called out, his voice louder than he had ever spoken before. It echoed across the training ground.
Zhao Ling turned around, eyes narrowing as he saw the weakest disciple walking toward him with an unusual fire in his eyes. "What do you want, trash? Shouldn't you be off somewhere practicing to stay out of everyone's way?"
The other disciples snickered. They knew what was coming. Another display of Yang Kai's pathetic weakness, no doubt.
Yang Kai smiled. It wasn't the defeated, bitter smile of a man used to being beaten down. It was the smile of someone who had just made a decision—a decision that would change everything.
"I've decided to slap you," Yang Kai said, his voice full of confidence, though his hands still shook slightly from the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Zhao Ling blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What?! Are you out of your mind? You—"
Before Zhao Ling could finish his sentence, Yang Kai moved.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them and, with all the strength he could muster, slapped Zhao Ling across the face.
SMACK!
The sound was so loud it seemed to vibrate the air itself, and for a moment, everything went silent.
Zhao Ling staggered back, his face turning a deep shade of red as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. The crowd fell into stunned silence.
Yang Kai stood there, panting lightly, but with a strange sense of satisfaction creeping over him. He had done it. He had finally slapped back.
Ding!
"Host has completed first task. 500 cultivation points earned. System reward: +10 strength, +10 agility."
The notification flashed in his mind. Instantly, Yang Kai felt a surge of energy unlike anything he had ever experienced. His body tingled as his cultivation base skyrocketed from the first stage of Qi Condensation to the second. He felt his strength multiply, his senses sharpen. His fists felt stronger, his legs more powerful. His whole body seemed to hum with energy.
Zhao Ling, still dazed from the slap, finally managed to get to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury. "You—! You slapped me?!"
Yang Kai wiped his palm nonchalantly. "Yeah. And it felt pretty damn good."
The crowd began to murmur, some disciples laughing nervously, others in stunned disbelief. Yang Kai, the weakest of them all, had just slapped Zhao Ling, the sect's pride, without a second thought.
And with that slap, everything changed.