Root of the Phenomenon, Chaos First Formed and Startled Ji Hantian

The wind passed through the broken window, making the half-charred straw sway gently. I leaned against the wall in the corner, iron chains weighing down my calves as coldness crawled up my bones.

That gray line from earlier had not been an illusion.

It had risen from the direction of the Black Market, shooting straight into the clouds and tearing open an invisible rift. Then the entire night sky seemed to have been stirred by something, and a hazy shadow of Chaos emerged, like some colossal being slowly opening its eyes in the heavens.

Chaos had already broken out outside.

Footsteps drew nearer from afar—more than one group. Lantern light cast long, swaying shadows against the walls. Some people cried out in low voices that the sky had split open; others said an ancient formation had revived, that it was an auspicious omen.

I knew it was no auspicious omen.

The Jade Slip was still pressed to my chest, its heat not yet faded. Its resonance with the thing beneath the earth grew stronger and stronger, like two magnets drawing each other across mountains and seas. Meanwhile, the Heaven-Slaying Origin within me quietly increased with every tremor.

So close.

Just one last thread short.

I lowered my head and coughed, wiping at the corner of my mouth with my palm. It came away with a little ash, which I smeared onto my face. I could not break character as a madman. Blood Fox's impact last night had triggered my protective force, but it had also left traces—the old wound at my waist had split open, oozing dark-red blood, and the Cloth Strip had long since turned black. That scent was enough to attract bloodthirsty creatures, and enough to make Ji Hantian keep his eyes fixed on me.

Steady footsteps sounded outside the door.

Not guards.

It was the rhythm of boot soles pressing against the ground, each step deliberate, carrying an oppressive air of looking down upon all beneath him. He had come.

When the door was kicked open, splinters flew everywhere. Ji Hantian stood in the doorway, followed by four halberd-bearing guards, the tips of their long halberds glinting coldly. He was not wearing his Purple-Gold Python Robe, only a dark cloak, yet his overbearing presence was stronger than ever.

"Again, it's you." His voice was not loud, yet it scraped across the eardrums like a blade. "Every time there is a phenomenon, you are present."

I did not move, remaining curled up with unfocused eyes as I muttered, "Fire... it's burning... Father, save me..."

He stared at me for a while, then suddenly raised a hand to signal for the consecrated expert behind him to step forward. The man wore gray robes and a bronze mask over his face, holding a tortoiseshell-shaped Spiritual Artifact in his hand. He crouched down and drew a circle around me, chanting under his breath.

The Spiritual Artifact trembled faintly.

"There are Remnant Dao fluctuations," the consecrated expert said quietly. "Extremely faint, but they do exist. They are emanating from this room."

Ji Hantian's brow twitched as his gaze fell upon the pile of straw at my feet. There was a small pinch of ash there, mixed with scorched scraps of cloth—I had deliberately left it there last night, hiding within it the powder that had scattered when Blood Fox slammed into the wall.

"Even trash can stir the Remnant Dao?" He sneered and took two steps forward, kicking aside the broken bowl in front of me with the tip of his boot. "Or are you not actually crippled at all?"

I trembled even harder, a whimper rising from my throat as I shrank back. But the iron chains tugged tight, leaving me unable to move.

He bent down, drawing so close that his breath nearly sprayed across my face. "Why did Blood Fox come here last night? Did it recognize you? Or... were you waiting for it?"

I did not answer. I merely raised a hand and pointed shakily toward the hole in the roof.

"The sky... the sky is going to fall..." I mumbled, drool dripping from my chin.

He stared into my eyes for a long time.

Then he straightened and waved his hand.

"Search."

The four guards immediately spread out, turning the place upside down. The bedboards were pried up, the walls were tapped and inspected, and even every scrap of straw on the ground was picked up for examination. The consecrated expert directly pressed his Spiritual Artifact to the floor and swept it around in circle after circle.

I knew what they were looking for.

Not weapons, not secret letters, but lingering Spiritual Power, traces of formation patterns, or any clue whatsoever that could prove I was not completely crippled.

But they would find nothing.

The real abnormality was not here.

It was in the air.

At the very moment they searched the room, I closed my eyes.

My consciousness sank into my Sea of Consciousness, and the Pseudo-Primordial Body began to operate in silence. Although the Chaos phantom above had not descended with tangible power, the Residual Dao Fragments scattered as it dissolved were falling across the entire Ji Manor like fine rain. Every strand of aura drifting into this room was silently absorbed by the system, transforming into threads of origin that coiled deep around my bones.

Soon.

Just one final bit remained.

Suddenly, one guard kicked over the candlestick in the corner. The oil lamp fell to the ground, and the flames burst up with a whoosh, igniting the dry straw piled nearby.

The fire was not large, but thick smoke instantly filled the room.

"Idiot!" the consecrated expert roared, hastily retreating.

Amid the chaos, Ji Hantian frowned and covered his nose, raising a hand to signal the retreat.

At that instant, I drew in a sharp breath.

The smoke carried the mingled scent of charred wood and Remnant Dao—the perfect opportunity for absorption. The Pseudo-Primordial Body fully activated, like an invisible gaping maw madly devouring the free-floating energy around it.

[Heaven-Slaying Origin, two strands accumulated]

The instant the thought surfaced, it felt as though two golden threads lit up within my body at once, running from my spine straight through all four limbs and every bone. The speed of my recovery increased again, and even the places where the iron chains had rubbed my ankles raw began to itch faintly—that was flesh repairing itself.

I remained sprawled on the ground, coughing without end, my face covered in soot.

Yet my fingertips had already curled slightly, pressing into the dirt.

Ji Hantian reached the doorway and looked back once.

"Lock the door. Post two more guards." His voice was cold and indifferent. "There is something wrong with this room. He cannot be allowed to come and go as he pleases anymore."

"Yes!"

The door shut again, and the footsteps outside gradually faded away.

I slowly raised my head and looked toward the hole in the roof.

The Chaos phantom had already dispersed, but a layer of mist-like gray vapor still lingered in the air, like an echo that had not yet faded. When the wind blew, that gray vapor twisted gently, as if it were still answering some summons.

I reached into my robes. The Jade Slip remained scorching hot.

It was no longer merely resonating.

It was trying to guide something.

Just then, the iron chain at my feet suddenly gave a soft clink.

It was not the wind.

It was me moving.

I slowly shifted my right leg half an inch, letting my trouser leg slide down a little. Pale golden patterns had already spread along the inside of my calf, like vines quietly growing. As long as one more similar phenomenon erupted, the third strand of origin could condense.

Then the Heaven-Slaying Dao Foundation would begin to take shape.

I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, making my breathing weak once more.

A rooster crowed in the distance.

Dawn was near.

Outside, a newly arrived guard yawned as he changed shifts. Carrying a lantern, he passed through the courtyard gate and casually stuck a piece of Talisman Paper onto the doorframe, muttering, "What rotten luck. Guarding a cripple and I still have to work extra."

He did not notice that at the edge of the Talisman Paper, an extremely fine speck of golden dust drifted out through the crack in the door, landed on his shoe, and vanished in an instant.

Meanwhile, I still kept my head lowered and coughed, my shoulders trembling like a sick man who could draw his last breath at any moment.

Until fresh footsteps sounded from beyond the courtyard.

Not guards.

They were light and hurried, carrying a touch of arrogant hauteur.

Someone had come.

More than one person.

They crossed the front courtyard and headed straight for this ruined room. The leader's voice was piercing: "Open the door! By Family Rules, we are here to inspect household affairs. Ji Wuchen's residence is no exception!"