Claro! Aqui está a tradução para o inglês do capítulo editado:
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The sun had not yet risen above the rooftops of the Lei Mansion when Lei Wuchen finished packing his belongings. A simple leather case, darkened by time, contained the few items that would accompany him to the imperial capital. Beside it rested the silver medallion from the Elementary School of Soul Masters. More than a symbol of graduation, it was a reminder of everything he had overcome.
He wore reinforced travel clothing in shades of gray and blue, the Lei family crest discreetly embroidered on his chest. His black hair was tied in a high knot, and though his expression remained calm, his eyes revealed the storm churning within him.
Lei Qingshan waited for him in the inner courtyard, arms crossed and face composed. Beside him, Duke Lei Tianlong observed his grandson with eyes like steel, as if evaluating a newly forged weapon.
"Do you have everything?" Qingshan asked.
Wuchen nodded.
"Yes, father."
Tianlong stepped forward and pulled a small dark cloth bundle from inside his robe.
"This is for you." — He handed over the package, revealing a small bracelet with a gemstone at the center, a spatial storage device polished and etched with silver runes. — "It contains gold coins, some recovery pills, and a copy of your official recommendation letter to the Imperial Academy. Don't lose it."
Wuchen gave a deep bow.
"Thank you, grandfather. I promise to honor our family name."
Tianlong placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Honor it by being strong. Strong enough to rely on no one."
Qingshan accompanied him to the carriage.
"Remember, it's not wrong to trust others... as long as you choose wisely who to trust."
Wuchen entered the carriage, and before the door closed, he raised his hand to them both.
Then, he departed.
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The journey took nearly a week. They passed through gray stone villages, rippling rice fields, bamboo forests, and hills covered with blooming cherry trees. Wuchen spent most of the time meditating, especially at night, when spiritual cultivation nearly replaced sleep. He now slept only five hours a night, using the rest to refine his spiritual power. Between sessions, he observed the places they passed through. This was the real world, far vaster than the mansion or the academy where he had grown up.
During his early years, he often wondered if this world was real—if it wasn't just the dream of a dying mind in a hospital bed. So he would sometimes walk through villages, observing the scenery and especially the people, and in doing so, he realized the truth: these people had lives, had stories—they couldn't be figments of his imagination.
In some towns, he saw young cultivators training in open courtyards. In others, monks preached the spiritual doctrine of the Spirit Hall, even though its main headquarters was far from there, in another territory. But the name Spirit Hall was known across the continent.
One night, during a stop at an inn, he overheard rumors in the tavern: discreet conflicts between minor sects, mysterious disappearances of soul masters, and growing tensions along the empire's borders.
"The world is changing…" — he murmured to himself.
And he needed to be ready.
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When the carriage passed through the outer gates of Heaven Dou Capital, Wuchen felt his heart tighten in his chest.
It was immense. Dozens of inner walls divided neighborhoods and districts. Canals cut through the city like veins of water, markets bustled, banners fluttered bearing the symbols of hundreds of noble houses. The imperial palace loomed in the distance like a mountain of jade and gold.
Spiritual transport carriages crossed avenues lined with carved pillars. Guards patrolled in formation. Groups of youths bearing academy insignias moved back and forth.
Wuchen disembarked in the western quarter, where lodging had been arranged by the Lei Mansion.
In the days that followed, he explored the city. He visited public libraries, watched demonstrations by wandering masters, and walked around the central arena where great duels were held. He constantly heard whispers of great clans.
The city was alive. Powerful. And merciless.
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On the morning of admission, Wuchen wore the ceremonial uniform sent with his acceptance letter: navy blue with silver detailing and the Heaven Dou Imperial Academy emblem embroidered on the left shoulder.
Upon arriving at the eastern gate of the academy, he saw hundreds of youths gathering. Many wore family symbols. Others had extravagant outfits. The gate opened with a deep hum, and a male voice echoed through amplifying crystals:
"New students, welcome to Heaven Dou Imperial Academy! Those with recommendation letters, approach the north wing!"
Wuchen moved forward among the crowd. It didn't take long before some eyes fell on him. A thin, arrogant young man remarked:
"Hey, that's Wuchen, right? The one with the duke's impure bloodline?"
Others murmured.
"And he has three rings, at twelve…"
"Look how he carries himself. Definitely a bastard."
Wuchen ignored it all. But thought to himself:
'How do these people know about me? I never left the duke's territory!'
That set off an internal alarm.
He handed over his documents and was escorted to the dormitories of the second pavilion. A small residence shared with three other students.
When he opened the door, he met the first of them: a young man with long hair and refined features, reading a scroll in silence.
The boy looked up.
"Ah... you must be Lei Wuchen. I'm Mo Yan."
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