After a day's work, Tang Yu dragged his exhausted body home. The house was empty, save for a black cat meowing.
Usually, Tang Yu would have had the energy to play with his beloved pet, but now he felt hollow inside. His boss's reprimands from earlier that day kept flashing through his mind, along with his girlfriend's breakup text.
"Tang Yu, I've been with you for two years, and you have no ambition. You don't know how to butter up your boss, and what good is working hard with your head down? I can't see a future with you. Let's break up."
Tang Yu sighed. He really couldn't bring himself to suck up to a rotten boss like that.
He glanced at the little brass cauldron on the TV stand. It was about the size of his palm, covered in strange patterns.
"If only I could sell you for a good price." Tang Yu shook his head helplessly.
It had been passed down from his great-grandfather's generation. Supposedly, his great-grandfather had inherited it from his own great-grandfather. Tang Yu had no idea how many generations it had passed through, but the craftsmanship was exquisite. It was definitely an antique with a long history.
Yet he had taken it to several appraisal experts, and every one of them had said it was a modern craftwork—not even as old as he was.
"Pah! What a bunch of lousy experts. They don't know a thing." Tang Yu spat.
After a long day, Tang Yu had only managed to half-undress before exhaustion overwhelmed him. He collapsed into bed and fell asleep.
While he slept, spiritual energy revived. The little brass cauldron trembled faintly, and the runes inside it shimmered. By midnight, a drop of rich spirit liquid had gathered within—the Cauldron of Creation's Divine