The Heavenly Appraisal Eyes

Hong Tianqi was born with nothing remarkable about him. Orphaned young, raised at the edge of a forgotten village, he scraped by on herb runs and borrowed knowledge until the day he first circulated qi and something behind his eyes opened that had no business being there. He tested as Mortal Grade at thirteen. No sect fought over him. That was fine. He had already seen enough with those eyes to know which path to take, and it was not the obvious one. Qingmu Sect was a joke. Three elders past their prime, disciples on the wrong cultivation paths, formations that had been rotting for decades, a reputation so poor that nearby villages had stopped sending their children. Nobody watches the bottom of the barrel. Nobody asks questions about quiet progress. Nobody notices when things start improving in ways they cannot quite explain.