In the Northern Wastes, in the depths of winter, the wind and snow cut like blades.
At the foot of Dragon-Severing Cliff, the snow lay three feet deep, and the cold pierced to the bone. I lay wedged between cracks in the rocks, my clothes torn, my left arm twisted, my chest caved in, my breathing so faint it was nearly imperceptible. Nineteen years of glory and wealth had turned to bubbles overnight. I was Ji Wuchen, the Young Master of the Ji Clan's Direct Lineage, born with a Dao Bone and once a rare genius unseen in the clan for a century. Now, my Dao Bone was shattered, my cultivation ruined, and even moving a finger was as difficult as scaling the heavens.
Three hours earlier, my cousin Ji Hantian had invited me to spar. Standing at the cliff's edge, he smiled and said, "Wuchen, your talent may be high, but you are still no match for me." Before his words had faded, he struck my chest with his palm. That blow contained Spiritual Power and hit directly at my vital point. I fell from Dragon-Severing Cliff, plummeting through a thousand zhang of empty air before crashing here. The instant my Dao Bone broke apart, agony flooded my mind like ten thousand needles piercing my brain, and my Sea of Consciousness nearly exploded. I had thought I would die.
But just as my consciousness was about to scatter, a soundless voice suddenly rang within my heart—"Great Dao Felling Heaven System binding successful."
There was no screen, no prompt—only a cold, lucid torrent of information pouring into my Sea of Consciousness. As long as I did not expose my strength and practiced Conceal Edge, Guard Simplicity, I could automatically absorb remnants of the world's Remnant Dao, Calamity Qi, and Battle Intent Fragments, converting them into Heaven-Slaying Origin. The longer I suppressed my cultivation and the more dangerous my circumstances, the faster it accumulated. If I did not strike, so be it—but once I did, heaven and earth would surely be shaken.
I understood. Staying alive was the only path.
Forcing myself to retain my last shred of clarity, I silently recited, Conceal Edge, Guard Simplicity. The meridians throughout my body slowly closed, and my aura sank deep into my dantian. Even the beat of my heart meridian slowed as much as possible. My body heat was steadily draining away, but I could not move. Pursuers were above me. If they discovered I was still alive, they would certainly finish me off.
Amid the wind and snow came the sound of rope scraping against the cliff wall.
Two black-clad servants descended along the cliff face, Spirit-Seeking Compasses in hand. Their steps were light and careful; clearly, they had been ordered to search for the body. They were less than ten paces from where I lay hidden. One of them crouched down, used a wooden stick to sweep aside the snow, and let his gaze pass over my face.
I held my breath, relaxed my entire body, and let myself lie limp like a corpse.
"There's still a trace of warmth, but no Spiritual Power at all. He probably won't survive," the man said in a low voice.
The other sneered. "Young Master Ji Hantian said that anyone who falls from Dragon-Severing Cliff cannot be saved even by immortals. Once the Dao Bone shatters, he's nothing but trash. He won't last half an hour."
They stepped closer. One of them raised his foot and kicked my shoulder. I let my body roll onto its side, blood spilling from the corner of my mouth, without so much as blinking. The blood was real, but I did not care. As long as they believed I was dead, that was enough.
"The compass shows no response. No Spiritual Power fluctuations confirmed." The servant holding the compass put away the artifact. "Let us report back. Ji Wuchen is dead."
The two climbed back up the rope, their figures vanishing into the snowstorm.
I remained where I was, unmoving and with my eyes closed. Only after I confirmed they had truly left did I breathe a sigh of relief in my heart. The system was still operating. An exceedingly fine thread of warmth circulated deep within my Sea of Consciousness—the first wisp of Heaven-Slaying Origin. It was weak, yet undeniably real.
I was still alive. And I would become stronger.
The night deepened, but the wind and snow did not cease. My body temperature had already fallen to its limit, my limbs were numb, and my consciousness was beginning to blur. Without medicine to extend my life, I would surely die tonight. Just as I was about to slip into unconsciousness, a faint sound of something sliding down came from the cliff top.
A round-faced youth slid down on a rope, dressed in dusty gray short garments, with an abacus and wine gourd hanging at his waist. It was my attendant, Afu. His movements were clumsy, and he nearly stepped into empty air, but he managed to seize the edge of a rock. Stumbling over, he ran to my side and pulled a small porcelain bottle and half a cold flatbread from his clothes, his hands shaking violently.
Afu was eighteen, the lowest-ranking servant in Ji Manor. Usually, he was greedy, cowardly, and slick-tongued, yet he was more loyal to me than anyone. Three years ago, I had rewarded him with five Spirit Coins. He remembered it to this day, telling everyone he met, "My Young Master is the best person in the world."
"Young Master... Young Master, are you still awake?" His voice choked as he gently patted my cheek. "I stole a bottle of Life-Extending Pills. They're low-grade, but they can keep you alive... Hurry and take them..."
I did not move or open my eyes. I did not want him to know I had recovered part of my awareness. If Afu knew I could still hear him, he would surely fight even harder for me and bring disaster upon himself instead.
Seeing no response from me, he grew so anxious that he was nearly in tears. He pried open my mouth, stuffed two pills inside, and fed me a little water. When he was done, he knelt in the snow with his hands clasped together. "Heavens, please let my Young Master live. I am willing to take his punishment for him..."
Just as he was about to climb back up, a fierce shout suddenly came from the cliff top. "Who is down there!"
The night patrol guards had detected the lingering Spiritual Energy fluctuations from the medicine bottle.
Afu's face turned deathly pale. He turned to flee, but a streak of spiritual light nailed his feet in place. Three men with swords surrounded him. One recognized him and sneered. "So it's Ji Wuchen's attendant. Delivering medicine in secret in the middle of the night, intending to shield a crippled master—your crime is all the greater!"
"I didn't! I was only..." Afu tried to explain.
"Drag him back. Make him kneel in the front courtyard snow all night. He is not to rise. Anyone who disobeys will be executed!"
They took him away. The rope snapped, leaving only the empty medicine bottle, which rolled several times across the snow before stopping at the edge of my vision.
I kept my eyes closed, my face pale as paper. Within me, that thread of Heaven-Slaying Origin trembled faintly, as if responding to a suppressed fury. But I could not move. I could not rage. I could not reveal even the slightest emotion.
The system had only one command: Conceal Edge, Guard Simplicity. The weaker I appeared, the stronger I became.
I heard the wind and snow howl. I heard the crack of whips in the distance. I heard Afu's muffled groans. He knew he would be punished, yet he had still come. He knew I might die, yet he had still risked everything to bring me pills.
But now, I could do nothing.
I could only lie there like a corpse, letting the wind and snow bury me, letting the cold gnaw at me. Yet deep within my Sea of Consciousness, a light quietly flickered to life. It was not hope, nor was it hot-blooded fervor. It was something cold, something that burned slowly—hatred, and obsession.
Ji Hantian, you destroyed my Dao Bone and regarded me as less than grass or mustard.
But you did not know that true strength had never depended on flaunting oneself.
You pushed me into the abyss, never knowing that beneath it, a power that heaven could not bear and earth could not contain was awakening.
I felt the Heaven-Slaying Origin flow, one wisp, then another. It showed nothing outwardly and took no visible form, yet it silently accumulated within me. Every moment of endurance, every act of suppression, paved the way for that future strike.
One day, I would return to the Ji Clan's main hall and stand before you.
When that day came, I would not need to cry injustice. I would not need to defend myself.
One punch would be enough.
The wind and snow grew fiercer. My breathing nearly stopped, and my body temperature fell to its limit. Yet just as my consciousness was about to sink away, the system sent a new torrent of information: the first wisp of Heaven-Slaying Origin had finished condensing.
The embryonic form of a Pseudo-Primordial Body had sprouted within this mortal flesh.
I still lay there, unmoving and silent. The faint red scar on my face grew subtly hot beneath the snowy light.
The night was not over, and the road ahead was long.
But I had survived.
Before you continue