Li Shi’an paused for a moment, then nodded. He hadn’t even figured out how to explain it himself, but someone else had already done it for him. 

“Entering a dream?!” He Bieshan’s voice suddenly soared, then dropped sharply. 

His eyes widened as he stared intently at Li Shi’an, as if seeing this brother—with whom he’d grown up playing in the mud since childhood—for the very first time. “Is… is that really true?! That… that legendary…” 

Hao Yun’s reaction was even more immediate than his. She gasped.

“Shi’an… you… you…”

Her words came out in a jumble, her mind swirling with those vague yet mythical descriptions tucked away in the corners of her textbooks. What was this about crimson clouds filling the sky, the Holy Pool resonating… That was the realm of the Red Talent—a national treasure!

And Shi’an… Purple… had triggered it too?!

“Zhu Yuanzhang… the Emperor Card.” He Bieshan finally found his voice, though it trembled uncontrollably. 

Emperor! Just what level of card is this?!

He Bieshan’s meager imagination couldn’t even begin to fathom it.

In his mind, Zhao Zhiyong’s green-tier Lord card, “Chief of Black Wind Fortress,” was already a formidable presence—so what about an Emperor?

Commanding tens of thousands of troops? Overwhelming the land?

He felt a surge of scorching blood rush straight to the crown of his head, making him dizzy and disoriented.

Li Shi’an watched as his two friends stood speechless with shock and lost their composure with excitement; the slight unease he’d felt from accidentally letting the secret slip away vanished.

He smiled, reached out, and gave He Bieshan a casual pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Li Shi’an said with a twinkle in his eyes, “I’m going to need your help this week.”

He Bieshan and Hao Yun looked at him as if someone had pressed the pause button—confused yet eager, waiting for him to continue.

The smile on Li Shi’an’s lips grew deeper and more powerful: “Zhu Yuanzhang is an Emperor-class card in his later stages. Emperor-class cards are never meant to fight alone. They rule over lands and govern the people, and they need a powerful team as their foundation and extension. The three of us,” he paused, his gaze clear, “are just right.”

BOOM!

He Bieshan felt as though the last thread of “reason” in his mind had snapped completely!

A massive, unprecedented wave of ecstasy instantly engulfed him, overwhelming him to the point where his vision went dark.

A teammate for an Emperor-class card? Shi’an—with his purple talent and what appeared to be the “Entering Dreams” Apocalypse—this absolute powerhouse had actually reached out to the two of them, “losers” who’d awakened as Life-type cards?!

He Bieshan felt his eyes well up with tears he couldn’t control. What’s this about farming and blacksmithing? What’s this about support and healing?

He Bieshan—might one day be a core member of an Imperial-tier card team! 

It was as if fate had played a massive prank on him—and then handed him a golden opportunity!

Hao Yun, standing beside him, wasn’t doing much better either.

Her first card was “primary light heal,” and she’d originally thought she’d only be able to provide quiet support from the rear, becoming an insignificant cog in a vast medical system.

But now, Shi’an had told her that her place was in the core team of the Emperor-class card! 

The huge surprise left the two of them completely dumbfounded; they could only stare blankly at Li Shi’an, too overwhelmed to say a word. Seeing their dazed yet ecstatic expressions, Li Shi’an couldn’t help but laugh.

He pulled out his communication ring and dialed the orphanage director’s number first.

“Grandma,” the call connected almost immediately.

Li Shi’an’s voice carried his usual gentleness. “It’s me, Li Shi’an. Yeah, the Awakening Ceremony is over… Things… got a little complicated, but the outcome was good. Don’t worry, Grandma, I’m fine. Um… I won’t be coming back tonight. I’m at He Bieshan’s place to discuss some things regarding the practical assessment in a week… Yes, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of myself… Mm-hmm, goodbye, Grandma.”

After hanging up, Li Shi’an looked at He Bieshan: “Let’s go to your place. Yun Yun…” He turned to Hao Yun.

“I… I’m going home, too.” Hao Yun took a deep breath, trying to calm her churning emotions. “You know, my place is right next door to Bieshan’s—it’s very close. Shi’an, if you need me to do anything, just contact me anytime!”

Li Shi’an nodded. “I will. Your ‘Holy Light Healing’ is crucial to our team. This week is going to be tough on you, too.” 

“Mm-hmm!” Hao Yun nodded vigorously, as if she’d been entrusted with a sacred mission. “I won’t hold you back!”

She glanced at the two of them, then turned and walked briskly in the opposite direction, her steps so light it was as if she were about to take flight.

“Let’s go, Bieshan.”

“Huh? Oh, right!” He Bieshan snapped out of his daze and hurried to catch up. After taking a few steps, he couldn’t help but lower his voice and ask in a dreamlike tone, “Shi’an… um… the Emperor-level… is it… really true?”

Li Shi’an turned his head and gave him a sidelong glance, a hint of depth in his eyes: “The ending I saw in my dream. As for the starting point…” he began, “It’s that of a beggar.”

The He family lived in an older residential complex not far from the school. The building was a bit worn, but the hallways were clean and exuded the warmth of everyday life.

“Dad! Mom! I’m home! Shi’an’s here too!”

He Bieshan pulled out his keys to unlock the door and started shouting at the top of his lungs before he even stepped inside. As soon as the door opened a crack, a rich aroma of meat wafted out eagerly.

“Oh my! Shi’an’s here! Come on in, come on in!” Zhao Yue, wearing an apron and holding a spatula, immediately hurried out of the kitchen to greet them upon hearing his voice.

She was a little on the plump side, but her smile was incredibly warm and genuine. The look she gave Li Shi’an was full of undisguised affection. “You’re finally back! You must be starving. That slowpoke Bieshan was taking forever, but the meat’s been simmering in the pot—you’ve timed it just right!”

As she spoke, she enthusiastically took Li Shi’an by the arm and ushered him inside. Mr. He also stood up from the sofa in the living room.

He was a middle-aged man of medium build with a kind face, wearing a work uniform that had been washed until it was slightly faded, with traces of grease still on his hands—he had clearly just finished some chores around the house.

Upon seeing Li Shi’an, his face immediately lit up with a smile, and he rubbed his hands together: “It’s so good to have you here, Shi’an! So good! Have a seat! Bieshan is always talking about you!”

“Hello, Uncle and Auntie. Sorry to bother you,” Li Shi’an replied politely. This kind of family warmth was a precious source of comfort to him.

“Don’t be so formal! You’re such a polite kid!” Mrs. He teased, then hurried back into the kitchen. “You two sit here for a bit. I’ll bring the food out right away. Bieshan! Pour some water for Shi’an!”

He Bieshan replied while deftly pouring water. Steaming hot dishes were soon laid out on the dining table.

The glossy, braised pork was stewed until tender, the bright green stir-fried greens still carried the aroma of the wok, and a bowl of clear soup dotted with egg flowers exuded warmth.

Zhao Yue’s cooking was as always—simple yet full of the comforts of home.

“Shi’an, hurry up and try this piece of pork—it’s stewed to perfection!” Without waiting for a reply, Zhao Yue dropped a large chunk of braised pork, marbled with fat and lean meat, into Li Shi’an’s bowl, where it wobbled precariously atop the mound of rice.

“Thank you, Auntie,” Li Shi’an replied softly.

The atmosphere at the dinner table was a bit awkward.

He Jianguo, He Beishian’s father, exchanged glances with Zhao Yue several times, but in the end, neither of them brought up the results of the Awakening Ceremony.

They watched Li Shi’an eating quietly, then glanced at their own son, He Bieshan, who was also shoveling food into his mouth but kept glancing at Li Shi’an from time to time, looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t, and appearing restless.

He Jianguo cleared his throat, deciding to change the subject to lighten what might otherwise become a heavy atmosphere. He raised his wine glass and took a sip.

“Shi’an, I hear you guys have a practical assessment next week? Time really flies.” He set down his glass and tapped the tabletop with his finger. “As for me, your Uncle He, I’ve been working at that ‘Ruifeng’ card material processing plant in the western part of the city for nearly twenty years now—I worked my way up from an apprentice. Now, I’ve managed to scrape by as a workshop supervisor, overseeing a few dozen people and specializing in the rough processing of low-grade card alloy blanks and basic energy crystals.”

He spoke with down-to-earth honesty: “This line of work may not look like much, and it doesn’t require the same level of technical skill as those master card designers, but it’s stable. For us ordinary folks, it’s all about having a stable life to support our families. I can’t promise much, but I can definitely get my hands on some of the factory’s basic scrap—metal shavings, energy crystal powder, and those low-tier defective blank card vessels that get culled. If you young folks want to practice or need some basic materials down the road, just let Bieshan know, or come find me directly!”

He Jianguo spoke sincerely, without a trace of boastfulness—it was simply the unpretentious concern of an elder for a younger person. He knew Li Shi’an was an orphan, so he wanted to help in any way he could.

Implicit in his words was another meaning: even if the card awakening didn’t go as planned, with Li Shi’an’s intelligence, combined with his connections and resources, he’d have no trouble finding a stable technical job—such as an apprentice card-mechanism repairman or a factory quality control inspector—to support himself.

Zhao Yue quickly chimed in, “Exactly, exactly! Shi’an, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Look at Bieshan’s dad—he only had a Green Card talent, right? And isn’t he doing just fine now? Living a steady, down-to-earth life is better than anything else.”

As she spoke, she placed another piece of meat in He Bieshan’s bowl, her gaze sweeping over her son with a barely perceptible hint of worry.

After all, she and He Bieshan’s father had already helped test his talent results beforehand.

Hearing his parents’ words and seeing how carefully they were avoiding the topic of Li Shi’an’s awakening results, He Bieshan could no longer contain the excitement and the huge secret he’d been bottling up the entire trip!

“Dad! Mom! Do you… do you know what level Shi’an’s awakened talent is?!”

He Jianguo and Zhao Yue were startled by his sudden outburst.

He Jianguo frowned: “You little brat, why are you making such a fuss? What level? Shi’an is a steady, down-to-earth kid—his talent certainly can’t be too bad…”

He instinctively assumed that He Bieshan’s excitement might mean Li Shi’an had also awakened a decent tier of talent—perhaps blue?

He Bieshan practically shouted, “Purple! It’s purple! Dad! Mom! Shi’an has awakened a purple talent! Low-grade purple!!” 

“Clang!”

He Jianguo lost his grip on the wine glass, which fell directly onto the table, spilling wine everywhere.

Zhao Yue’s chopsticks also fell onto the table. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide as saucers, as if she’d just heard a tale from *One Thousand and One Nights*. 

“Pur… purple?!” He Jianguo sprang to his feet, his voice crackin’. “Bieshan, you… you’re not making this up, are you?! A purple talent?!”

“It’s absolutely true! The whole school is abuzz! It’s written clearly on the announcement screen!” He Bieshan nodded vigorously. “The principal was almost moved to tears. Purple! It’s been so many years since Seventh High School produced one! Shi’an, quick, let my parents see the card!” 

Under the almost dazed gaze of He Jianguo and his wife, Li Shi’an silently pulled out the white 【Beggar·Zhu Yuanzhang】 card.

The pure white background and the image of a ragged beggar looked exceptionally… eerie.

He Jianguo and Zhao Yue’s gaze, which had been soaring on clouds of shock and ecstasy, was instantly snapped back to reality by this out-of-place white card.

The stark contrast left them speechless for a moment, their expressions a complex mix of emotions.

“Purple… a purple talent… paired… paired with a white card?” Zhao Yue muttered to herself, her voice wavering. “This… this…”

He Jianguo took several deep breaths before he could barely quell the storm raging within him. After all, he was a middle-aged man who had seen his share of the world, and he forced himself to remain calm.

He slowly sat down, looking at Li Shi’an with a complex expression: “Shi’an… what… what’s going on here? How could it be a white card? Did the machine malfunction?”

He Jianguo met Li Shi’an’s concerned gaze and spoke calmly: “Uncle, Auntie, I chose it myself.”

“You chose it yourself?!” He Jianguo and Zhao Yue exclaimed in unison.

“Mm-hmm.” Li Shi’an nodded, offering no further explanation. He simply picked up the white card. “This card is very important to me. It… holds a different kind of significance.” 

All of He Jianguo’s words of persuasion got stuck in his throat.

He had watched this child grow up from a young age; he was level-headed and resilient—definitely not the type to act on a whim.

There must be a reason he chose this white card—one he simply couldn’t put into words.

Zhao Yue was about to say something else when He Jianguo silenced her with a glance.

He let out a heavy sigh, picked up the paper on the table to wipe away the spilled wine, and spoke in a somewhat subdued voice.

“Shi’an, Uncle…understands. You have your own ideas. A purple talent… Great, that’s wonderful! This is fantastic news! As for the cards… take your time. There’s always a way to improve them. If you need any materials, just ask—I’ll set aside all the scrap materials from my factory for you from now on.”

He paused, looking at Li Shi’an with an incredibly earnest expression: “Remember, the He family is your family! Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask!” A wave of warmth welled up inside Li Shi’an, and he nodded vigorously: “Mm-hmm! Thank you, Uncle and Aunt!”

Toward the end of dinner, the atmosphere took on a somewhat peculiar quality.

A mix of immense surprise and deep confusion left He Jianguo and his wife unable to savor their food, yet they dared not ask any more questions for fear of putting pressure on Li Shi’an.

He Bieshan, meanwhile, was lost in the excitement of having a “top-tier teammate,” stealing glances at Li Shi’an from time to time with eyes that shone with an almost frightening intensity. After dinner, Li Shi’an followed He Bieshan into his bedroom.

He Bieshan’s room wasn’t large and had a typical teenage boy’s vibe, with a few posters of outdated battle cards on the walls and a desk piled high with textbooks and assorted odds and ends.

The most eye-catching feature was a small stack of cards neatly arranged in the corner of the desk.

These weren’t finished cards, but blank card vessels—slightly rough in texture, dull gray in color, and devoid of any patterns or energy symbols.

“Hehe, these are all defective items my dad picked up from the factory,” He Bieshan said, scratching his head sheepishly as he picked one up. “They have poor energy conductivity and mediocre stability, so the success rate for turning them into finished cards is very low—they’re only worth a few points each. My dad said I should use these to practice and see if I can whip up some simple Life-element stuff to save the family some money. But I’ve tried a few times, and they’ve all failed… These things look simple, but they’re really hard to make!”

Li Shi’an’s gaze, however, was firmly fixed on these blank card vessels. This was exactly what he needed!

“Bieshan,” Li Shi’an walked over to the desk, picked up an inferior blank card vessel, and felt its almost negligible residual energy. “Make me a card.”

He Bieshan was taken aback for a moment, but then something occurred to him, and he immediately pounded his chest. “No problem! Just tell me, Shi’an—anything I can make! Even though my ‘Basic Forging’ is in the Life element, who knows, maybe I could…”

He had instinctively assumed Li Shi’an needed a combat-related support card.

“It’s not a combat card,” Li Shi’an shook his head, his gaze calm. “Make an item card. Specifically, a bowl.”

“A bowl??” He Bieshan was completely baffled, his mouth gaping wide enough to fit an egg. “Make… make a bowl card? Shi’an, if you want a bowl to eat from, there are plenty in the kitchen! Why waste a card blank? Even if this thing is inferior, it’s still worth some points, after all!”

He couldn’t make any sense of this request.

“Not that kind of bowl,” Li Shi’an explained. “I need a broken bowl—one with chipped edges, covered in cracks, maybe even with a gaping hole… the kind a beggar uses.”

He Bieshan froze solid in his tracks, his mind going completely blank. A broken… broken bowl? A broken bowl used by beggars? He thought of the white card in Li Shi’an’s hand—【Beggar · Zhu Yuanzhang】—and an utterly absurd thought crossed his mind: Could it be… that Shi’an wants the beggar on the card to use this broken bowl?! 

“Bieshan, just use whatever materials you have on hand,” Li Shi’an’s voice interrupted his wild musings. “You don’t need anything fancy. The most important thing is to infuse it with your understanding and will regarding concepts like ‘decay,’ ‘resilience,’ and ‘humble beginnings.’ Remember, you’re not replicating a physical bowl—you’re using card materials to construct the concept of a ‘broken bowl’!”

He Bieshan listened, half-understanding.

“O-okay! I’ll give it a try!” 

He Bieshan frantically began rummaging through the room; the materials were pitifully meager, even bordering on the absurd. He Bieshan took a deep breath and placed the inferior blank card vessel in the center of his desk.

He closed his eyes, trying hard to recall Li Shi’an’s words.

“Dilapidated,” “Resilient,” “humble beginnings.”

He thought of the ragged figure in the cold winter wind, of the hunger and scorn that might be there, and of the tenacity to survive even in the face of despair, the will to survive even in the face of despair……

He summoned the meager amount of energy within him.

A slightly ethereal energy forging hammer materialized in the palm of his hand.

He clumsily maneuvered the hammer, carefully channeling energy into the blank card vessel.

It was an extremely arduous process.

The inferior card blank had extremely poor energy conductivity, and He Bieshan’s control over his card energy was still quite unrefined. A fine sheen of sweat soon broke out on his forehead, and the energy hammer dissipated several times.

The material was integrated extremely unevenly, and the surface of the card blank kept flickering with a faint, unstable light, as if it might fail at any moment.

“Focus, Bieshan!” Li Shi’an spoke up at just the right moment. “Don’t strive for perfection—strive for ‘authenticity.’ A broken bowl doesn’t need to be exquisite!” 

He Bieshan gritted his teeth, straining with all his might to stabilize the energy hammer, and forced the last bit of dust—infused with his intent—into the card blank. Buzz!

The card blank emitted a brief flash of grayish-white light, which quickly faded. A card lay quietly on the table.

He Bieshan panted heavily, wiped the sweat from his brow, and eagerly picked up the freshly minted item card. After just one glance, his face fell, and he was utterly disheartened.

【Item Card: Broken Clay Bowl (Inferior)】

【Rank: White Card (Degraded)】

【Effect: None. This card is merely a manifestation of a crude, crumbling clay bowl and has virtually no practical value. It emits an extremely faint aura of “ruin.”】

【Note: This may once have been a bowl, but now it resembles nothing more than a pile of shards held together by a tenuous bond. Its energy stability is extremely poor, and it could collapse and dissipate at any moment.】

On the front of the card, the image is blurry and indistinct, though the outline of a bowl is barely discernible.

However, the bowl is covered in crooked, spiderweb-like cracks, and its rim is pitted and uneven, with several glaring chips that are jarringly obvious. The entire card is a dull, grayish hue, completely devoid of luster, and gives the impression that it would shatter at the slightest touch.

Forget blue or green cards—even a standard white item card is ten times better than this! This is literally the worst of the worst!

“Shi’an…” He Bieshan said with a long face as he handed the card over. “I… I’m such a failure! I messed it up! This thing… this thing is completely useless! I wasted a card blank…”

Li Shi’an took the “Broken Clay Bowl (Inferior).”

He could feel the card’s fragility; the energy contained within seemed ready to crumble like a sandcastle at any moment.

He scrutinized the ugly cracks and nicks on the card’s surface; far from being disappointed, a thrilled smile slowly curled at the corners of his mouth.

“No, Bieshan.” Li Shi’an looked up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “You did great! Really great! It’s absolutely perfect!”

“Huh?!” He Bieshan was completely baffled, wondering if his ears were playing tricks on him. “Perfect? Shi’an, you’re not kidding, are you? This crappy bowl card…It’s about to shatter!”

“It’s supposed to shatter! It’s supposed to break!” Li Shi’an’s voice suddenly rose. “With this, our success rate for the first assessment will skyrocket!”