The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

"Brother Liangchen, today you'll begin cultivating. You'll surely be known as a genius without equal once you start!" one of my younger brothers said, his tone brimming with forced enthusiasm as he tried to ingratiate himself with me.

Not everyone in my stepfather's harem hated me. Many saw my potential and the Emperor's favor as opportunities, vying for my attention in the hopes of gaining an ally. It wasn't uncommon for some of my siblings to fall over themselves trying to curry favor with me. A few would go so far as to carry out my every whim, desperate for my acknowledgment.

"Of course," I replied calmly, offering him no further satisfaction. The whole concept of cultivation didn't particularly excite me, and the reason was simple. The necklace around my neck wasn't just a piece of jewelry, it was an artifact with profound capabilities.

Over the years, I'd uncovered several of its secrets. Chief among them was its ability to seal my cultivation. From what I could deduce, I had been born with immense cultivation already, but the necklace had locked it away, forcing me to start from the very bottom. This wasn't a disadvantage; it allowed me to fully develop and refine the potential of each realm.

Last night, on my fifth birthday, one of the seals on the necklace was released. Along with it came a gift: a cultivation art unlike any other. This technique fused the three major paths, Body, Qi, and Soul, into one harmonious system.

I wasn't new to martial arts. During my time as Broly, I had been a madman driven by battle, but I wasn't without knowledge. I had mastered countless techniques, absorbed the essence of countless martial arts, and honed my combat capability to near perfection. My talent for learning was almost as monstrous as my power. And now, I had access to an art that could make use of everything I had ever learned.

Today, however, wasn't about me diving into cultivation. It was about enduring the fanfare of a party, one arranged to measure my talent for cultivation and announce it to the world. The event would undoubtedly be swarming with nobles, sect representatives, and others who wished to scrutinize me. I sighed at the thought but prepared myself for the ordeal. There was no avoiding it.

***

"Zhou Liangchen has arrived!" the announcer declared as I stepped into the grand hall. All eyes turned toward me, the weight of their gazes palpable. The hall was packed, overflowing with people of influence. My siblings lined one side, while the other was filled with nobles, sect envoys, and representatives from various organizations.

The Emperor, standing at the head of the room, quickly made his way toward me. His face, while composed, betrayed a flicker of confusion.

"My son, where are your royal robes?" he asked, his tone as measured as ever.

I glanced down at my attire, simple, functional, and completely unbefitting of a prince. "I didn't feel like dressing up," I replied plainly.

Before the Emperor could respond, Lan Mei, my maid, appeared at my side as if from nowhere. Her presence was invisible to most, but to me, she was a constant shadow.

"He didn't feel like it," she echoed with a helpless tone as if this were an everyday occurrence. Despite her calm demeanor, I knew she had her own reasons for allowing my nonchalance to go unchallenged.

The Emperor sighed, rubbing his temples. But he didn't push the issue. He rarely did. Instead, he took my hand and led me toward the stage where Zhou Yu was already waiting. Her disciplined posture and sharp gaze spoke of her relentless training. In contrast, I walked with the ease of someone who hadn't spent a single day worrying about cultivation.

As I took my place beside her, Zhou Yu glanced at me. Her eyes flicked over my relaxed expression and casual attire, and her lips curled into a faint frown. It was no secret that she despised me. To her, my lack of effort was an insult. She had spent years honing her skills, while I seemed to glide effortlessly through life, favored by the Emperor despite my apparent laziness.

The Emperor began his speech, addressing the crowd with flowery words about the greatness of the Zhou family and the significance of today's event. The room buzzed with anticipation, though it was clear to me that most people were here to evaluate me. They wanted to see if the Emperor's favoritism was justified, or if I would be revealed as a fraud.

***

When the Emperor's speech concluded, the event transitioned into what nobles considered a "party." There was limited dancing, only strategic conversations, and subtle power plays. My siblings mingled with the crowd, attempting to build alliances or strengthen their influence.

I, however, had no interest in such games. While everyone else schemed and networked, I found a quiet corner, sat down, and opened a book. Let them come to me if they wanted something. I wasn't going to waste my energy chasing anyone.

"Lianchen, shouldn't you be building connections?" Lan Mei asked, appearing beside me. She was as enigmatic as ever, her ability to fade from sight forcing me to sharpen my senses just to detect her.

"Why bother? They'll come to me," I replied casually, turning a page.

As if on cue, someone approached. It was none other than the crown prince, my eldest brother. His steps were measured, his smile disarming, but I wasn't fooled. He was a snake, a master of manipulation and schemes.

"Lianchen, it's good to see you," he said, his voice warm and brotherly.

"Cool," I replied without looking up. "Are you here to apologize for being a sorry excuse for trash, or is this another one of your schemes? Is the only thing keeping you relevant the fact that you're the firstborn?"

The crown prince's smile faltered for a moment before returning, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "Younger brother, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb," I said, snapping my book shut. "You're pathetic. You waste time scheming against me when there are hundreds of better ways to deal with someone like me. But no, you resort to petty assassination attempts. What a disappointment."

His expression darkened, though he maintained his composure. "Do you realize what you're saying, brother?"

"Of course," I replied, my voice calm and even. "Let me make this simple. I'll give you ten years. Somewhere within that time, I'll kill you, and your mother."

The room fell silent. My words were a direct challenge, the kind of statement that could spark a war between factions. Yet I didn't care.

The crown prince turned to the Emperor, his eyes glinting with the hope that I would be punished. But the Emperor simply laughed, waving off my words as though they were a joke.

"Haha! Lianchen, you always know how to liven up a party!" he said, his voice booming with amusement. The crowd murmured in shock, their confusion palpable. The crown prince's face twisted in frustration.

"Can I just measure my talent and leave?" I asked, my tone calm but laced with impatience. The Emperor sighed, reluctant but accommodating, and waved over an attendant. From behind the stage, a large, glimmering crystal was wheeled forward. The crystal towered over the crowd, its surface gleaming with faint ripples of energy that reflected the light in every direction.

This was no ordinary artifact. The Talent Crystal was one of the most revered tools in the kingdom, capable of analyzing not just the physical body but the Qi and soul potential of a cultivator. For most, the test was straightforward, a simple glow of the crystal to reveal their aptitude. A dim response signified mediocrity, while a bright glow signified a prodigy. Rarely, the crystal would emit a special color, indicating a unique or unparalleled talent.

The crowd leaned in with bated breath, their eyes locked on me as I approached the crystal. Whispers rippled through the room, tension building like a storm cloud.

"This will finally prove whether the Emperor's favoritism is justified," one noble muttered.

"What if he has no talent at all?" another whispered, barely concealing their glee.

The Emperor watched me closely, his expression calm but his fingers drumming against the armrest of his throne. Zhou Yu, standing nearby, glanced at me with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. She had spent years honing her skills, earning her place as one of the kingdom's most promising young cultivators. If I, who had shown no effort, were to surpass her, it would be a bitter pill to swallow.

I stepped forward, placing my hand on the smooth surface of the crystal. A cold energy seeped into my palm, coursing through my veins like icy water. It wasn't uncomfortable, if anything, it was oddly familiar, as if the crystal were probing me, searching for something deep within.

The room fell silent. Seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. No light, no glow, nothing.

"Is he... talentless?" someone whispered. The words, though spoken softly, carried across the room like a thunderclap. A wave of murmurs spread through the crowd, many unable to hide their relief. If I had no talent for cultivation, it meant I was no threat to them or their ambitions.

The Emperor frowned, rising from his seat. He started toward me, his confusion evident. "Lianchen..."

Before he could finish, Lan Mei stepped forward, blocking his path. Her face was uncharacteristically serious, her usual calm replaced by a rare intensity.

"Wait," she said, her voice firm but respectful. The Emperor froze, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

The tension in the room grew unbearable. Nobles leaned forward in their seats, their whispers now silenced as they watched with growing unease. Seconds stretched into eternity, the crystal still dark and unresponsive.

And then, it happened.