Prologue: The Origin

Seeking the Dao in the Mortal World.

In the Southern Border, within the small nation of Nanli, there lies a mountain on the western frontier known as Immortal Trace Mountain. The mountain is shrouded in red mist year-round, with faint traces of Immortal Qi. The jagged rocks at the summit look as if they were dropped from the heavens, appearing even more peculiar amidst the crimson glow.

Legend has it that an immortal dwells within the mountain, though no one has ever found so much as a single hair from one. Thus, the red mist of the mountain has become nothing more than a topic of idle gossip. Aside from the occasional stubborn seeker of immortality who comes to investigate, it is no different from any other ordinary hill.

Midnight.

A young man slowly climbed to the summit, standing before the pile of jagged rocks in a daze.

He was no seeker of immortality; he was merely a villager from the foot of the mountain.

Strangely, ever since he turned sixteen this year, he had often felt a bizarre urge, as if something in the mountain were waiting for him. Whenever he could no longer suppress it, he would come to the summit to stare blankly, yet he had never gained anything.

The jagged rocks at the summit were rough, covered in ancient, chaotic patterns that lacked any discernible system. The youth reached out to touch them, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though he knew not why. He had looked at them every day since he was a child, yet he had never felt this way before...

"I wonder if this has something to do with my parents... Whenever I ask Uncle Xu and the others, they just say I'm talking in my sleep." The youth looked up at the stars and the moon. The moon had reached its zenith, and through the red mist, its light seemed strangely tinged with red.

Just then, a voice suddenly spoke from within the pile of rocks: "What rotten luck. Coming all this way to this godforsaken mountain, only to have Little Peach Red snatched by some bastard first."

Someone replied: "Shut up. The National Teacher said..."

As the voices faded, two men emerged from the rocks. Seeing the youth, they both froze, and the rest of the man's sentence was swallowed back. Then, their expressions twisted into savage grins, and two long swords thrust toward the youth simultaneously.

The village boy was simple-minded and inexperienced. He had seen seekers of immortality before, and they were always polite to the locals. He had never imagined that these people would try to kill him without a word. By the time the two swords pierced through his body, he still did not know why.

The two men walked away, laughing. The youth lay in the center of the rocks, blood gushing from his chest. He stared wide-eyed in the direction they had left, wanting to ask "why" even as he died.

The two men had underestimated the youth's vitality, assuming he would surely die. In truth, the youth had practiced martial arts since childhood; had he not been so completely off-guard, it would not have been so easy for them to kill him. As the youth lingered on the brink of death, he slowly realized that the rocks he had watched since childhood were changing after being soaked in his blood.

Under the moonlight, the stones began to shimmer with a ghostly blue luster, mixing with the bright red blood in a bizarre and eerie fashion. Soon, the light seemed to spread like a contagion, and the surrounding rocks began to glow blue one after another. Within moments, the entire cluster of rocks at the summit had turned blue, and the dying youth lying on the ground suddenly vanished.

His vision twisted, followed by a vast, blood-red expanse—a world seemingly dyed in fresh blood. There was no end, no boundary in sight; everywhere he looked, there were only piles of white bones, ghastly and rotting.

Beyond the bones, the ground was littered with fragments of stone tablets and various weapons; sword hilts and blades lay scattered in disarray. Within the red mist, countless faces seemed to be twisting, roaring, and wailing.

"Is this... hell?" The youth's consciousness was fading. "I hate this..."

The youth did not realize that in this peculiar realm, a special kind of Spiritual Energy was gradually repairing his body. The flesh that should have bled to death was slowly healing. Unfortunately, his soul was too weak, his consciousness too scattered; he could not survive.

Amidst the roaring and wailing deep within his soul, a vague voice suddenly echoed: "This bloodline... no wonder you could come here..."

"Bloodline?"

"You are dying?" The voice sounded delighted. "Such a weak soul—perfect, just perfect!"

Before the youth could react, a chill surged from nowhere, piercing through his soul and reaching deep into his Sea of Consciousness. He could only feel a terrifying, grinning ghost face lunging at him from the depths of his soul, as boundless darkness surrounded and devoured him.

Body Seizing... This was the youth's final conscious thought.

He was truly unlucky—first murdered, then having his body seized... Forget it, he was going to die anyway. The youth's soul let out a final, silent roar: If you take my body, go ask the National Teacher why!

At that very moment, a soul of unknown origin suddenly intruded into this twisted space.

As if drawn by the shell that had just lost its soul, the newcomer drifted into the youth's body.

The ghost face in the midst of the seizure seemed surprised, but sensing that the new soul was also weak, it decided to finish the job and devoured the newcomer as well, attempting to digest it.

"BOOM!" An overwhelming and completely incompatible flood of information surged in, leaving the ghost face bewildered. With a muffled groan, the new soul was expelled entirely.

The setback seemed fatal; the ghost face grew instantly weaker, unable to even maintain its form. Like a receding tide, it was beaten back and forced to flee the body.

Only the new soul remained, occupying the youth's shell.

The youth opened his eyes, looking blankly ahead.

"So there really is a hell after death, and it looks like this?"

Silence.

After a moment, a voice drifted up eerily: "What are these things called 'computers,' 'cell phones,' 'videos,' 'novels,' and 'AV' that are filling your soul?"

The youth replied: "Huh? You've been in hell for so many years and you don't know these?"

"..." The voice paused for a long time before saying helplessly: "Who are you?"

"My name is Qin Yi."

The voice sounded somewhat mocking: "What a coincidence. From the soul I just devoured, I learned that the one whose body you've possessed is also named Qin Yi."

Hearing this, the youth became instantly alert: "No, this isn't hell... Who are you?"

"You may call me Liusu," the voice said slowly. "This is not hell, yet it is. Do you... wish to leave?"

"How do I leave?"

"Pick me up, and you shall leave."

"Pick you up?"

"There is a Wolf Tooth Club stuck diagonally in the ground beside you. That is me."

Qin Yi: "..."

The moment Qin Yi pulled the Wolf Tooth Club from the ground, the space twisted. The entire region suddenly vanished, and when he opened his eyes, he was back on the summit. The moon was bright, the stars were sparse, and the red mist swirled around him.

At the same time, in the small village at the foot of the mountain.

An old farmer sat up on his heated brick bed.

The Woodcutter opened the door and gazed at the moon.

The yellow dog at the village entrance turned its head to look toward the mountain peak.

"Is the door open?"

"It is not."

"That is because I guard the door, while you only guard the grave."

"In truth, I do not wish to guard the grave."

"Then why do you not leave?"

"If it leaves, this place will no longer be a grave."

"I have never felt that you spoke with such reason before."

Nanli King's palace.

"Father, may you be well."

"Qing Lin, Qing Jun, you have come at the perfect time. After taking the National Teacher's Golden Elixir last night, This Lonely One feels quite a bit younger. Do you see? Have my white hairs not diminished somewhat?"

The young Prince remained silent for a long moment before whispering, "Father, there is no such thing in this world..." Seeing his Father's expression darken, the Prince did not continue, instead changing the subject directly: "Last night, the Great General reported that the Western Wilderness Kingdom has massed troops at Stone City; there appear to be unusual movements."

The King waved his hand impatiently: "You go handle it."

"Yes." The Prince retreated in silence.

Leaving the palace, he turned back to look for a moment before shifting his gaze toward the resplendent Daoist Temple in the west of the city. There, pilgrims were as thick as a weave, kowtowing in piety. Amidst the echoing of leisurely celestial music and swirling incense smoke, the temple appeared like a palace of immortals.

The Prince's eyes gradually turned cold.

"Do you also dislike Dong Huazi, Brother?" A crisp voice sounded by his ear.

"Also?" The Prince looked at his sister. "Do you not admire the immortals?"

"I admire immortals, but shouldn't immortals feast on the wind and drink the dew, traveling through the azure heavens? How could one possibly come to this mundane, dusty world to act as some sort of National Teacher?"

The Prince chuckled in spite of himself: "True."

"Hey, actually, there are legends of immortals in many places. Let us go find a true immortal. If we really find one, I shall follow him to cultivate..."

The Prince stared at the Daoist Temple, lost in thought for a moment, then smiled in response: "Very well. When I have some leisure, I will accompany you to find one."