Become the strongest with my sleeping system

When Jun Xiao deemed he had "had enough fun," he turned on his heel and left the training grounds, his little sister Jun Ling happily running after him, bursting with excitement.

"Big brother! You were amazing! You made them all fly like clumsy birds!"

Jun Xiao couldn't help but smile faintly.

"Hmph. That was just a warm-up."

They walked calmly back to their home. But as they crossed the threshold, Jun Xiao was surprised to find their father, Jun Tian, standing in the courtyard with his arms crossed and a grave expression, already waiting for him.

"Father," greeted Jun Xiao, raising an eyebrow.

Jun Tian stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to peer into his soul.

"You fought Jun Hao… and you defeated him. I've heard the news. Some elders saw it with their own eyes. And you defeated several other young clan members afterward."

"I didn't expect word to spread so quickly, but so be it," Jun Xiao thought.

Jun Xiao shrugged.

"Thanks to the spiritual herb you gave me… my body reacted better than expected. I woke up… different."

Jun Tian remained silent for a while, observing his son.

"Good. I'm relieved it helped your training," he said, glancing away.

"Yes. From now on, I will never lose again."

Then, directly:

"I plan to enter seclusion. I need to train seriously."

Jun Tian nodded slowly… then seemed to remember something.

"As it happens… you couldn't have picked a better time. The city's annual tournament will take place in two weeks. All the youths from the major clans will be participating."

A glint lit up in Jun Xiao's eyes.

"Then sign me up."

"Are you sure? This tournament is dangerous. The city's youths are far fiercer than those of our clan."

But Jun Xiao replied in a steady, firm voice:

"I'm sure, Father. Don't worry—I'll make you proud."

Then, silently, he thought:

"No matter their level. This tournament… will be my declaration to the world. And I'll make sure Father becomes the clan chief. In two weeks, I won't have a single equal in this city."

Jun Tian remained quiet for a moment, then slowly nodded, unaware of what his son was plotting.

"Very well. I'll register you. But be careful, my son," he said seriously, before pausing briefly and adding with a slight smile:

"By the way, I suggest you visit your mother before you retreat. You know how she is…"

Jun Xiao sighed inwardly. He knew exactly what his father meant. His mother, gentle and loving, could be extremely sensitive when it came to her children. She had always watched over him, even when he was the shame of the clan—when no one else believed in him.

"Yes, I know," he replied calmly, already turning to leave. "I had planned on it."

Without waiting further, he made his way to the inner courtyard where his mother stayed.

Upon reaching the small courtyard, he paused for a moment. He took a breath, then gently pushed open the door. Inside, his mother, Su Mei, sat near a window, patiently sewing a garment for Jun Ling. When she looked up and saw Jun Xiao enter, her eyes immediately lit up.

"Xiao'er, visiting me at this hour?" she asked with gentle surprise.

Jun Xiao stepped forward, his pace slower, more respectful. He bowed slightly before replying:

"I came to say goodbye, Mother. I'm going into seclusion for two weeks."

Su Mei's smile faded slightly, replaced by a shadow of concern. She set her work down and rose to approach him. She gently placed a hand on his arm, looking at him tenderly.

"Two weeks? Without giving us any news?" she murmured.

"I know," he said in a calm, almost soothing voice. "But it's necessary. I've made progress. And I intend to keep going."

A silence settled between them. Su Mei watched him closely. She knew something had changed in him. It wasn't just strength—he had matured. There was a determination in him she had never seen before.

Finally, she nodded softly and forced a smile.

"Very well. I won't stop you. But promise me you'll take care of yourself."

Jun Xiao lowered his eyes for a brief moment, moved despite himself. Even with all the coldness he now projected, he couldn't remain unmoved by his mother's sincerity.

"I promise, Mother," he said simply.

She hugged him briefly, as if afraid she might not get another chance, then let him go without another word.

Jun Xiao left without looking back. The world had no place for the weak—and he had decided to dominate it.

Back in his room, he made sure to carefully shut the door behind him. Then, he checked that everything was in order. He packed his things, placed a few concealment talismans on the walls—nothing too powerful, but enough to ensure privacy—and extinguished the lantern.

He slowly approached his bed, sat down, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Calm reigned, broken only by the sound of the wind brushing against the wooden shutters.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then said with steady resolve:

"System, activate sleep mode."

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

Day by day, the atmosphere in the city of Fenyan had grown more vibrant and electric. Normally quiet streets bustled with growing excitement, as if every inhabitant—from the humblest merchant to the city's nobles—could sense the approach of something significant. The main avenues were being decorated, stalls overflowed with colorful wares, and children played at mimicking martial arts masters. Fenyan pulsed with anticipation.

At the heart of the city, the martial arts arena was packed to the brim. Hundreds had gathered, their mingled voices forming a constant buzz that echoed through the upper stands. Uniformed disciples, white-haired elders, honored guests, and curious onlookers were all assembled around the main stage.

This was no ordinary day. It was a long-standing tradition, deeply rooted in Fenyan's history—a ceremony where the young generation of cultivators would reveal their growth, their potential, and by extension, the strength of their bloodlines.

As one of the most powerful families in the city, the Jun family held a central role in this event. For them, it wasn't merely an internal show of force—it was a statement to the entire city and beyond. Each performance by their young disciples would be closely scrutinized, as it represented the very future of the clan.

And they weren't alone. Other great families had come as well. In addition to the Jun, the Feng, Chu, Zhang, and Wang families—the pillars of Fenyan, each with their own talents and spheres of influence—were present to witness and, of course, to compete. They all shared a common goal: to assert their strength, showcase their heirs, and cement their standing in the city's power structure.

Beyond competition, it was also a time for evaluation. Outsiders—representatives from lesser factions or nearby towns—used this day to assess the vitality of Fenyan's dominant families. The powerful turned their gaze toward the youth: they would shape the future, after all.

For the Jun family, this moment was critical. The success—or failure—of their young disciples wouldn't just define their personal status, but the honor of the entire clan. A brilliant generation heralded a prosperous era. And today, that gamble would play out on the white stone of the arena.

"The City's Annual Tournament is officially about to begin!" announced a man in a black tunic with discreet yet refined patterns.

He stood at the edge of the arena, his sharp gaze sweeping over the groups assembled before him. His commanding presence and the immediate hush that followed betrayed his importance: he was from the Wang family, the lineage of the city lord himself, and a direct representative of his authority.

Behind him, the stands were already packed. The influential families had taken their places under shaded pavilions, and all around them, Fenyan's citizens formed a sea of expectant faces. Though labeled as "training," the tournament was far more than that: it was a spectacle, an evaluation ground, and for some… a stepping stone to glory.

One after another, the groups from the major families stepped forward to the center of the arena, under the curious and eager eyes of the crowd.

"Look at that short-haired young man over there! That's Wang Tianyu, the city lord's grandson!"

The young man stood tall and firm, wearing a blue tunic. A stable, powerful aura emanated from him.

"They say he's already at the 8th level of Body Reinforcement…"

"No surprise. The Wang family always produces top talents. If he's here, he's not here to lose."

Behind him, the group from the Feng family entered. At their head walked a tall, slender girl with long hair tied with a simple blue ribbon.

"That's Feng Yue, isn't it?"

"Yes, the famous 'Ice Blade of Fenyan'! She's only sixteen, but already at the 8th level too. They say her sword mastery is so precise she can cut a falling leaf midair."

"She's always so calm… cold like her name. But her opponents never laugh for long."

Next came the Chu family, clad in deep red tunics. Leading them was a broad-shouldered young man, arms crossed and a cocky smile on his lips.

"That's Chu Yan… The one who supposedly broke three disciples' ribs before even cultivating…"

"He's at the 8th level too, but unlike Feng Yue, he's raw, violent, and fast. They say he uses the Crimson Tiger technique with adult-level ferocity."

"He swore to defeat Jun Wei this year. He wants first place."

Shortly after, the Zhang family's disciples advanced. Their clothing was more subdued, in earthy tones. At the front was a boy with a calm, almost invisible presence.

"That's Zhang Ruye. Few notice him, but he's dangerous."

"Why? He's never seen fighting…"

"Exactly. They say his cultivation is nearing the 9th level. He's a strategist."

Finally, a ripple spread through the crowd as the Jun family appeared.

At their front, a young man with tied hair and calm features stepped forward confidently. His chest was slightly puffed, his stride unarrogant but filled with icy confidence.

"That's Jun Wei!"

"The pillar of the Jun family's young generation! Already at the peak of Body Reinforcement!"

"He crushed two Feng disciples during the last winter trials. His style is brutal but precise. He never gives a second chance."

"He's the Jun family's favorite to win… But…"

Silence.

Then a murmur from the back rows.

"…But some say that this year, another Jun might steal the spotlight."

"You mean Jun Xiao, don't you?"

"Exactly. The one they all used to call 'the trash'… until he crushed six disciples in duels the other day."

"Even Jun Hao… his arm was broken in a single blow."

"But he's not here, is he?"

"Not yet. But if he shows up… everything could change."

The murmuring grew. Gazes began drifting away from Jun Wei, scanning the edges of the arena. The mere mention of a name was enough to shake expectations.

For now, the favorites were clear: Wang Tianyu, Feng Yue, Chu Yan, Zhang Ruye, and Jun Wei. Each with their power, their style, their pride.