Chapter One: Awakening to the Truth

Long, long ago, there was a Sheep Village, home to a shepherd who, for his habit of deceiving and mocking others, was banished from the lush green pastures. That day, the poor shepherd—deaf, blind, mute, and crippled—listened to the laughter of the flock, gazed at the village gate for a long time, and before leaving, spat out words of bitter hate: "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west; never scorn the poor youth!"

After sending the first half of the fairy tale draft, Zhou Ke typed another line: "The story of 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf' is more or less like this."

About half a minute later, a reply appeared in the chat window. Just four short words, yet they brimmed with wrath and anguish as if drenched in the fires of hell: "Rewrite from scratch."

"Why?!" Zhou Ke protested indignantly.

"I asked you to adapt 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf,' not make up nonsense!"

This time, the editor replied at lightning speed; Zhou Ke could almost hear the crisp tapping of slender fingers on the keyboard—the passionate performance of a pianist from the wildest districts.

"If the great philosopher Aesop saw your version of 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf,' he'd be so furious he'd rise from the grave, switching from author to plaintiff!"

"I advise you to write honestly and stop stalling with these bizarre concoctions—the deadline stays as it is!"

"If you don't deliver your draft before the deadline, I'll drag you into the little dark room and shred you with a paper shredder! Shred!"

Reading the editor's ultimatum, Zhou Ke clutched his head and sighed, "Ah, I really thought it was good."

He scratched his messy hair and stood up to wash, only for a dizzy, blurred darkness to wash over his eyes, his head buzzing.

With years of experience sitting at desks from student days to work, Zhou Ke knew well this was just a brief cerebral ischemia—a bout of orthostatic hypotension. Just wait it out standing.

Yes, just stand for a bit...

"The Power of Reason, third tier!"

Accompanied by three faint planetary rings glowing from the stone globe, a man's voice rang out, calm and emotionless.

In the center of the neatly lined crowd, sunlight failed to chase away his languor. A boy, melancholic with dark circles and an aura of "keep away," was startled awake by the call.

Clutching his head as if struck by a hammer, dazed and aching, he muttered the three classic philosophical questions:

"Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to do?"

"Ke, didn't you say you were going to nap for a bit? Are you alright?"

When Zhou Ke opened his eyes, a gentle-looking boy reached out to steady his shoulder.

The boy's hair was dyed a shade somewhere between gold and yellow—a durian color—matched with elegant features, giving him a distinctive look. Especially under his left eye, a tear-shaped mole lent him a touch of the vampire nobleman running away with a human girl from some drama.

"Who are you?"

Fragments of memory about the gentle boy... about this world... pierced Zhou Ke's mind like shards of glass.

He suddenly understood how President Kennedy must have felt—the mind blown open!

"Li Hua?"

The name slipped from his lips, and the overwhelming dizziness made him cover his mouth and dry heave.

To Li Hua, it meant something else.

"Hey, hey, we've been desk mates for two and a half years—surely I don't look so bad you want to vomit just from seeing me?"

Li Hua rambled on, but his concern was genuine; his hands never left Zhou Ke's shoulders.

"You look awful. Do you need the kind, generous, helpful model student Li Hua to take you to the infirmary?"

"No, I'm fine..."

Zhou Ke waved him off with difficulty.

He was alright, just overwhelmed by a sudden influx of memories he needed time to digest.

Give it a moment, and he'd be much better.

In the ten seconds or so spent bent over, his physical discomfort had nearly faded.

But psychologically, the shock lingered.

"Seriously... I just stand up and cross worlds?"

Students lined up, staggering across the sports field. The tender green campus scenery became clearer in his eyes.

Strange yet familiar.

According to the cliché, he had indeed crossed over.

His surname was Zhou, given name Ke; in his previous life, he was a writer of fairy tales. Now his soul had landed in the body of a seventeen-year-old student with the same name.

It should have been a joyous affair.

After all, everyone has regrets—who wouldn't want a chance to start over?

Yet the memories in his head told Zhou Ke that Blue Star, the world he now inhabited, differed greatly from the Earth he once knew.

First, Blue Star had always possessed extraordinary mysteries.

The gods of legend truly existed.

Those famous scholars in Earth's history were, on Blue Star, mortals who stood shoulder to shoulder with gods—great archmages.

Take Isaac Newton, for example.

He was the founder of Gravity Magic, the first to command gravity, revered on Blue Star as "Father of Mechanics."

Or Michael Faraday.

He pioneered Magnetic Storm Magic, using human ingenuity to clash with Zeus's thunder, earning the gods' respect and the title "Father of Electricity."

He laid the foundation for the era of Electric Magic.

In short, Blue Star's progress depended on magic.

Steam power relied on magic, electricity relied on magic, even the internet was powered by magic.

However... yes, here's the abrupt "however."

The thriving, peaceful era burst like an overinflated soap bubble.

About a century ago, gods and archmages vanished overnight.

All materials on magic were burned, with less than a tenth surviving.

By the time ordinary people realized what had happened, history's rupture was irreparable.

The glorious age of magic was lost forever.

For the next hundred years, humanity barely advanced.

But not all was lost—at least... people rediscovered "Truth."

Truth—created and written by hidden gods and archmages—was the extraordinary mystery, the final gift of the magic age.

They dwelled in the souls of descendants, waiting silently to awaken.

"Li Hua?"

"Hey, I'm here, Dad."

As Zhou Ke adjusted to the memories, two souls of different ages fused seamlessly in one body.

He was both the Zhou Ke who crossed from Earth and the Zhou Ke born on Blue Star.

His feelings for Li Hua deepened, as if they'd known each other for ages.

Looking at his gold-haired buddy, the impression grew clearer—and more foolish.

Normally, schools forbade students from dyeing their hair.

But Li Hua was stubborn, insisting his ancestry included an Icelander, and his hair was a genetic reversion.

At first it sounded like an excuse, but Li Hua dug up the family tree—and sure enough, there was a blond, curly-haired ancestor.

The school administration had no way to handle him, so they just let him be.

"Li Hua," Zhou Ke called again.

This time, his tone was serious enough to make Li Hua frown. "Ke, are you alright? Don't scare me! Who will I copy homework from if something happens to you?"

"Promise me."

"Promise what?" Li Hua felt uneasy, sensing something off about Zhou Ke.

"Promise me!"

Zhou Ke gripped Li Hua's shoulders, eyes bright, voice deep.

"Alright, I promise!"

Li Hua had no idea what Zhou Ke was doing.

His brother looked like he was making a deathbed confession, which scared him so much he'd agree to anything—even something drastic.

"In the future, if you need to write to foreign friends, do it yourself."

"Screw you!"

Li Hua laughed and shoved Zhou Ke, realizing he was being teased about his name, which kept popping up in English exam papers.

All his concern had been for nothing.

"Hehehe." Zhou Ke grinned mischievously.

It masked the dissonance of crossing worlds and strengthened their friendship.

"You feeling better now?" Li Hua punched Zhou Ke in the chest.

"No headache, no backache, my heart nearly stopped beating," Zhou Ke clutched his chest, speaking with heartfelt drama.

"The Power of Reason, fifth tier! Average aptitude."

While they bantered, another loud voice sounded.

Zhou Ke looked toward the flag platform; the plaza normally used for speeches now featured two man-sized stone sculptures.

One shaped like a globe, the other like a book with its pages angled upward.

A man in a gray suit, hair slicked back meticulously, held a tablet, fingers swiping as he recorded something.

He carried an aura entirely different from theirs, from ordinary people.

"Association Manager..." Zhou Ke murmured.

To administrate those who awakened Truth and understood magic, the nation established the "Mage Association."

Today was the second semester for seniors, the day the Association entered campuses to test for Truth among the graduating class.

Only seniors were chosen, for good reason.

At this stage, students were nearly adults, their minds and sense of law more mature, less prone to recklessness.

Even if they suddenly awakened extraordinary power, they wouldn't misuse it.

"Sigh."

Whale Eyes brushed aside a few limp strands of hair, sighing in disappointment.

He was the chief examiner for Truth awakening at Guangcheng First High.

First High was the top school in Guangcheng.

He hadn't expected the results to be so mediocre.

On average, two out of a hundred students awakened Truth, which was within normal probability.

But the Truths awakened were obscure, their abilities mediocre.

"One generation worse than the last—at this rate, humanity might soon be devoured by Gate Beasts."

Whale Eyes shook his head, a few strands dangling like insect antennae, his face unchanged.

"Examiner, I..."

A thin-faced student, upset by his mediocre aptitude, clenched his fists.

Whale Eyes saw the emotion but ignored it, speaking coldly:

"Step to the right, put your hand on it."

The unfulfilled student obeyed, placing his hand on the book-shaped stone.

Green light shimmered; a book appeared above his head, its cover engraved in pale green letters.

Whale Eyes glanced at it and announced loudly, "Candidate Liu Xing, awakened Truth: 'A child without an umbrella must run harder.' Author unknown."