Era of Mist

The Municipal Culture Bureau was located in the inner circle of the Upper City District.

The bureau’s building wasn’t particularly grand. On the contrary, it was low and unassuming, with a certain elegance reminiscent of the Old Era. The Culture Bureau was not a lucrative government post, so it was rather quiet. Facing a large park, it even had a somewhat reclusive air.

At half past noon, Shi Tiexin ran all the way over right after getting off work. Standing at the entrance of the Culture Bureau, he saw the competition information posted in a very conspicuous spot. Shi Tiexin skimmed the notice, skipping past the long paragraphs of policy explanations. The essential information was simple:

The Tumu Castle Calligraphy Competition, commemorating the one hundredth year since the Mist. It was divided into two major categories: brush calligraphy and pen calligraphy. Contestants must register and perform their calligraphy on-site at the Culture Bureau. Pre-written works were not eligible for submission.

The competition would be fair and impartial, with renowned calligraphers from across the inner solar system serving as judges. The brush and pen categories would be ranked separately. First prize: one winner per category, 100,000 value points. Second prize: three winners per category, 50,000 value points. Third prize: ten winners per category, 10,000 value points, and so on...

Shi Tiexin didn’t read any further. His eyes were glued to the zeroes after the first-prize reward.

’How much?’

’How many points?’

’Let me count the zeroes again... ahem, one, two, three, four, five... Five zeroes! One hundred thousand! One hundred thousand value points!’

Shi Tiexin felt like a bolt of lightning had just struck him square on the head. ’One hundred thousand value points? How much damn money is that!’ As a probationary security guard, he only made three hundred points a month even if he worked all thirty days. And that was already the all-time highest income for anyone from the Orphanage.

’To make a hundred thousand points, I’d have to work as a probationary guard for twenty-eight years!’

And that wasn’t even factoring in eating, drinking, and paying rent. Over twenty-eight years, saving up twenty thousand points would make him a paragon of thrift. But this hundred thousand points was pure profit. The announcement stated the prize money was tax-free. The amount advertised was the amount you took home, not a single point less.

’Holy shit! I feel like if I pull this off, I’ll be set for life!’

’I’m doing it!’

’I have to do it!’

’If I’d known about a competition like this, I’d have signed up ages ago!’

Brimming with excitement, Shi Tiexin strode into the Culture Bureau office, took a quick look around, and walked right back out. ’Nope, can’t register yet.’ He had just seen that contestants had to perform immediately after signing up. He hadn’t reached his peak state yet, so he couldn’t guarantee a win.

’After all, the Cultivators of this world are different from the students at Fengming First Middle School. The students rely solely on their own willpower, but Cultivators have psionic energy on top of their talent and willpower. Their average skill level is bound to be far higher than that of ordinary students.’ Shi Tiexin glanced at his own progress: Basic Oratory, First Level Profound, ninety-eighth degree. He decided to practice a bit more and enter the competition in peak condition.

’It’ll be soon. It won’t take much time.’ It had been a few days since he reached the ninety-eighth degree, and Shi Tiexin hadn’t slacked on his practice. He could feel that the breakthrough to ninety-nine was close.

’But where can I practice calligraphy around here?’

Shi Tiexin glanced around, then quickly headed for the large park in front of the bureau. The park was bustling with people, a popular spot for citizens to relax and get some exercise. From a distance, Shi Tiexin saw many old men drawing water from a small lake and using special, oversized soft-tip brushes to practice calligraphy on the pavement.

The characters they wrote were vivid and clear, but a gust of wind would make them vanish without a trace. It was an excellent way to practice.

Shi Tiexin hadn’t paid them much mind, intending only to find a quiet spot to practice, perfect his form, and then go claim his prize money. But as he subconsciously watched them for a moment, he was suddenly filled with awe.

’These old men... they’re so powerful!’

’On closer inspection... holy shit, these old guys are incredible at this! Not all of them, but there are definitely a few who are incredibly skilled. Just looking at their work is a feast for the eyes.’

When he looked at them again, even their hunched backs seemed to possess a unique character, and their wrinkles looked as if they were etched with hidden talent.

WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH! A strong wind gusted beside him. Shi Tiexin turned to see another old man wielding a three-foot-long brush, performing a shockingly powerful set of what looked like the Judge’s Pen Technique.

Taking a closer look, he saw the huge brush seemed to be cast from metal, weighing well over ten pounds. Yet the old man brandished it as if it were weightless, showing no signs of strain. With an explosive gust of wind, his movements were like a dragon in flight. The characters left on the ground were equally powerful and elegant, each one a marvel to behold.

’This!’

’This old man is clearly a master of the Sharp Qi Realm!’

Shi Tiexin was stunned. He looked back at the other old men practicing nearby. They all remained completely unconcerned, as if this was a common sight, not even bothering to glance over.

Shi Tiexin’s mind was blown.

He suddenly felt like a lamb standing among a pack of old lions. They might be old, but they were all the more formidable for it, their teeth and claws even sharper with age.

He glanced at a group of old ladies practicing with swords by the lake and several old men practicing Tai Chi. Shi Tiexin suddenly realized this park was full of crouching tigers and hidden dragons. It seemed like every single person had the spectral image of a roaring, savage beast hovering behind them.

’I-I was wrong... I was so naive!’

’On a weekday like this, who has the time to hang out in a park in the middle of the day instead of working? Only people who are loaded! Just look at those brushes, those swords, the clothes they’re wearing... I’d bet my life these people are all living off a fat pension!’

’And with money, can a high cultivation level be far behind? Or to put it another way, without a high cultivation level, could they even have that much money?’

Shi Tiexin was stunned, but he quickly came to his senses. His dream of dominating the competition and getting rich with his calligraphy skills instantly evaporated. He took a hard look at himself and found a secluded corner.

He took out a pen, but he had no practice paper, nor a flat desk to write on.

Shi Tiexin took a thick stack of blank, stiff cards from his pocket. They were blank business cards Tao Zhongming had given him. He earned one point for every ten he filled out.

His impetuous thoughts settled. Shi Tiexin came back down to earth from the clouds. The tall young man, over two meters in height, crouched down, placed a card on the stone ledge of a flowerbed, and sat on the ground.

The stiff card was perfect for writing on the stone surface.

He picked up his pen, his expression solemn, and began to write.

The sun shone brightly. The list of provincial examination victors still hung high in the Celestial Universe, and the surrounding crowd buzzed with noise and activity, some pointing at the list with endless admiration. In the park, a group of ladies had set up a large speaker and started dancing to a thumping beat. Before long, however, someone came over to argue with them, complaining that they were disturbing the peace.

A pocket dimension opened, a duel began, and the right to continue their plaza dancing was to be decided by a contest of martial skill.

In the end, the plaza dancing music never stopped. The person who had come to complain, however, seemed to have been sent to the hospital.

All of this was happening around him—the chaotic, bustling mortal world. But Shi Tiexin paid it no mind. He instantly calmed his heart and mind, becoming as utterly and completely focused as if he were back in a classroom at Fengming First Middle School.

Writing business cards was a job. It was for survival, not for art. He had to follow a template, a rigid pattern. It was restrictive, with no room for freedom. But the attitude with which he executed each and every stroke—that was something he could decide for himself.

’As long as I treat every stroke with reverence, even words written just to survive can be made to shine.’

At three in the afternoon, Shi Tiexin calmly raised his head.

A star crashed into his progress bar. Basic Oratory, First Level Profound, ninety-ninth degree—achieved.

Now, it was time for the Celestial Golden Light to do its work.