Chapter 6: Breaking Through the Shackles of Innate Talent

Over the forty years since the Celestial Empire reinstated the college entrance examination, thousands upon thousands of top scorers have emerged across its provinces and cities. Yet, few have ever wondered what became of those once crowned as the pride of the heavens.

Later, an institution compiled some statistics: regrettably, the majority of these former prodigies achieved only modest success, with the highest among them attaining little more than a senior managerial position. Their later accomplishments paled in comparison to their youthful glory.

Many, after graduating and looking back years later, find that those who fared best in life and earned the most were often the so-called "losers" at school. More specifically, it was often the lazy rascals who never studied, barely scraped by with last-minute cramming, who ended up becoming true standouts in society.

If Meimu were to become a neurosurgeon, there would be no question—the patient would be doomed. Inheriting the knowledge of his world’s previous Meimu did not guarantee mastery. The gulf in learning ability between the underachiever and the prodigy is not so easily crossed.

This is not to espouse the uselessness of study. Rather, it is that success demands far too many factors. After all, for one to stand out in the world, beyond knowledge and other hard skills, one’s approach to life, social connections, luck, and opportunity are all indispensable.

The specialized knowledge acquired in school is rarely used unless one’s job aligns perfectly with one’s studies. Now that fate had allowed Meimu to traverse worlds and inherit the opportunities of Doctor Strange, seizing those chances became his own challenge.

When it came to delving into the plot and becoming a master mage, Meimu possessed a peculiar, inexplicable confidence. Perhaps every recluse harbors a secret wish to save the world!

"Ha!"

Alright, even Meimu couldn't keep up the pretense. Being a poor student did not mean being a fool. He pondered the use of this "Fate Shift Point."

Sitting in a Starbucks, he rolled between his fingers a tiny object, glowing with a mysterious blue-violet radiance, no bigger than a grain of rice. He was quite sure no one else could see it, judging by the way people looked at him as if he were mad.

Then again, it wasn't just the invisible light in his hand that unsettled them. The serpentine scars winding across the back of his hand and his incessant tremors made him look as if he were about to have a seizure at any moment.

Passersby seemed ready to call 911.

"Hey! Guys, I'm fine—I was in a car accident," he called out.

Damn, making an emergency call might be satisfying in the moment, but if an ambulance really came, the bill would be on him. If he were still the old Stephen, he probably couldn't afford even the ambulance ride. In New York State, ambulances are all privately operated, and the fees are outrageous. Without commercial insurance, a single ride could drive a man to despair.

Meimu was tempted to find a random passerby to experiment with the Fate Shift Point, but in the end, he gave up the idea.

The Night Nurse only appeared in the Marvel comics; she was never part of the movie continuity. This proved that this Marvel world was likely not merely the cinematic universe. That was a headache. If it was the comic book Marvel, then chaos reigned—nothing was reliable. After all, with countless writers and editors over the years, the comic book Marvel universe had been destroyed dozens of times. And yet, there was always another parallel universe ready to take its place.

Meimu remembered that, in the worst timeline, there was a version where all the superheroes were wiped out, and even the Hulk was kept as a pet by Thanos.

"Damn! The Marvel world is terrifying. Can I just go back to the Earth where the Celestial Empire exists?"

Thinking of those overwhelmingly powerful foes, Meimu eventually found a hotel, went to his room, lay down, and absorbed the Fate Shift Point into his body.

"This...feeling is odd."

Human beings are born equal!

That saying is utter nonsense, spouted either by idealistic egalitarians brainwashed by their own dogmas, or the most shameless politicians seeking to deceive.

People are born unequal. If everyone could grow as tall as Yao Ming, why would the market for elevator shoes, high heels, and platforms be so thriving? Some are born with strength, some with intelligence, and some, even with luck.

Don’t tell me that social classes don't solidify. It's like mosquitoes—no matter how hard a mosquito tries, it will never fly up to the thirtieth floor by itself. And yet, some mosquitoes are simply born on the thirtieth floor.

The Fate Shift Point gave Meimu the sense that, at the very least, he had been granted a chance to ride the elevator up.

Within his soul, he heard a faint "click," as if some shackle had just been unlocked. His vision filled with an illusion: two paths, once narrow, now broader. Though still not spacious, they were immeasurably better than the mere trickle of a path he'd known before.

To the left was likely the path of the Physical, for Meimu vaguely saw the Hulk—an icon of physical destruction, whose might was among the greatest in the galaxy.

To the right lay the path of the Arcane. Meimu did not hesitate to choose this way. He had never been a strong man. In strength, speed, agility, and coordination, he was only average. Besides, he had inherited the fate of Doctor Strange, that supreme sorcerer—what other choice was there?

Almost as soon as his thoughts reached toward the arcane path, he felt a change within himself.

In everyday life, so much is available to our perception, yet habit renders us oblivious. For example, the movement of the air.

The wind!

The omnipresent wind. The sensation of wind on one’s skin is usually vague, but now, to Meimu, its touch was incredibly distinct. Suddenly, he felt more than a dozen ways to alter the wind—from the simple act of fanning, to the use of mystical powers that defied all known physics, as if the universe itself whispered of methods science had yet to explain.

It was a faint, hazy sensation. So slight that, without quieting his mind to search for it, he would never have grasped it at all.

He tried to go further, but then the feeling faded...

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Meimu sat up abruptly, panting heavily. He could more or less guess what this was.

In the terms of online games, this must be a kind of "elemental affinity."

Before, in ten lifetimes, he could never have sensed such things. This was talent.

Clearly, the Fate Shift Point had opened a new window for him.

Turning to gaze out the window at the unmistakable silhouette of Stark Tower, Meimu muttered, "As I am now, I’m not qualified to compare myself to those superheroes. I can’t even join S.H.I.E.L.D. as a regular agent."

Pulling out his tablet with trembling hands, he spent a full half hour booking a flight online—from New York to Nepal.

"Kamar-Taj, I’m coming—"

Originally, Meimu was full of grand ambitions, but the mere act of flying nearly did him in. The ticket from JFK to Tribhuvan International in Kathmandu cost just over a thousand dollars, but the fatigue was overwhelming.

Twenty hours of flight time left his bones feeling ready to fall apart.

And then the real problem arose—

"Damn! Where is Kamar-Taj?"