Chapter Five: Advancement to Level Four

“Mengyao…” Meng Guming lay on the infirmary bed, eyes closed, murmuring in his sleep.

Ah… whose name is this? Why did this name suddenly pop into my head? And who was that girl across from me? Why does she seem so familiar, so dear? These thoughts drifted through Meng Guming’s dream.

What’s wrong with my eyes? Why do they feel misty, as if veiled by tears? Am I crying? Heh… Ah, my heart aches—it hurts so much, as though something important has been shattered inside me. What is happening? Who am I…? How strange, who am I, really? Meng Guming’s mind spun with wild imaginings within the dream.

Afterwards, he dreamed a strange dream: he seemed to watch many people flying through the sky. Wait—wasn’t the one leading them Meng Guming himself? He was clad in dazzling golden armor and wielded an awe-inspiring, ornate spear.

Or perhaps it wasn’t Meng Guming at all. After all, Meng Guming couldn’t possibly handle such things. Besides, the dream’s perspective was distant and unclear; perhaps it was just someone who resembled him.

My god, what’s going on? A group of people are fighting in the sky—look out, the sky is collapsing! And now the ground is caving in. What’s that? No way, is that a wave hundreds of meters high? And what’s that over there? Someone is holding a colossal staff, at least a hundred meters thick and a thousand meters long. And another is casting an ice sphere the size of a small building.

Meng Guming watched in awe—wait, a fireball as large as a villa was hurtling straight towards him! Why can’t I move? he thought. No, I don’t want to die. Am I going to die? No… Meng Guming woke with a start, crying out.

He sat up abruptly, running his hands over his body—thank goodness, nothing was missing. He took a deep, steadying breath. Then he wiped the sweat from his brow. So it was only a dream, he thought. Of course—how could anyone possibly fly? Unless…

Composing himself, Meng Guming looked around, wondering, Where am I?

He rose slowly, realizing this was likely an infirmary, as the bed was the type he’d only ever seen in hospitals.

Meng Guming tapped his head lightly, and memories returned. He’d come to enroll, and at the entrance to the administration building he’d met a young girl. Then—then—then, damn it, he’d fainted? What the—how could that be?

Meng Guming suddenly felt a wave of frustration. Could it be he’d neglected exercise for too long and his health had deteriorated? Impossible. He looked at his hands, then his legs—nothing wrong there. In fact, his muscles seemed even more robust than before.

Was he suffering from some terminal illness? Could it be the legendary heart disease? Meng Guming panicked, pressing a hand to his chest. No, his heart beat strong and steady—there couldn’t be anything wrong.

His anxiety mounted. As you know, when a person gets anxious, they become restless, and restlessness leads to impulsive acts—like breaking things in anger. But that’s just a joke; such tantrums are more a woman’s prerogative, after all. No self-respecting man would behave so pettily.

Still, Meng Guming, in his agitation, raised a fist and brought it down hard on the bed beneath him. This is a common way for people to vent their frustration.

But Meng Guming was different. His fist struck, and the bed collapsed beneath him. Not just any flimsy dorm bed, but a hospital-grade wire-mesh bed, built for resilience.

Yes, it was steel wire. Yet it gave way with ease. The mesh snapped, and the steel supports at the corners broke clean in the middle.

Staring at his fist in disbelief, Meng Guming felt a surge of wild joy. He’d reached the fourth level—he’d finally crossed the threshold into the Minor Ascension Realm. From this day forward, he could truly stand on his own.

For Meng Guming was a cultivator—a being set apart from ordinary people. They possessed abilities beyond the reach of common folk. In the East, such people were called cultivators, using unique methods to acquire extraordinary powers: scaling walls, traveling a thousand miles a day, bodies as hard as steel.

In the West, they were known as ability users. Whether called cultivators in the East or ability users in the West, the differences were mostly in name. The real distinction was that Eastern cultivators almost always hailed from ancient families—the likes of the Dongfang clan in the east, the Ximen clan in the west, the Nangong clan in the south, the Beiming clan in the north, and the Xuanyuan clan at the center.

The Xuanyuan clan was the most powerful of all. It was said the current head of the clan had already reached level nine, a step away from divinity. Rumor had it that to become a god was to roam the world, unfettered by any force.

There were also rumors of another sect on the Kunlun Mountains, the Kunlun Sect, whose master was apparently a half-step from godhood. But as it was a reclusive sect, these stories could not be verified. The last recorded appearance of anyone from the Kunlun Sect was fifty years ago.

Cultivators’ ranks were strictly divided, primarily according to their power, which stemmed from the energy they refined. Now, since Meng Guming could break steel, it marked him as a fourth-level, “Ironhead and Ironlimb.” Unlike the fantastical immortals of novels who could fly or move mountains, this was reality.

At the fourth level, Meng Guming no longer feared ordinary firearms—pistols, machine guns, and the like—though powerful missiles could still harm him. Even so, it was now difficult for death to find him.

Yet reaching the fourth level was an enormous hurdle—countless cultivators were stuck at this threshold, which was why it was known as the Gate of Life and Death. To pass it was to soar into a new world, a true cultivator, impervious to blade and bullet. To fail meant remaining vulnerable—if bullets could still harm you, how different were you from ordinary people, except perhaps for some extra strength or speed?

In many great families, fourth-level cultivators held high status, but most reached it only in their fifties or sixties. As far as Meng Guming knew, there was only one other person in the world who’d reached the fourth level at his age—twenty—the Xuanyuan family’s princess, Xuanyuan Linwen.

But she was a prodigy—some even suspected her of being possessed by an evil spirit, so she didn’t count.

That made Meng Guming the second at his age to achieve this. Now you know why he was so overjoyed.

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