(A little tip: The first four chapters are the protagonist's low-key build-up period. Starting with Chapter Five, things kick into high gear. Readers looking for the thrills may want to jump straight to Chapter Five. We hope you'll understand!)
(Please set your brains aside here and enjoy the massage service O(∩_∩)O)
The cold was like poison needles soaking into his marrow, seeping through the cracks in the rotting planks and burrowing in from every direction.
Li Yuan curled up on a pile of dry straw in the corner of the room, covered by a layer of old hemp cloth so thin it was almost transparent. He clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the icy shudders that kept surging up from deep within him. His stomach was painfully empty, cramping with a burning ache. It wasn't just hunger; there was also a chill, sour pain that seemed capable of devouring his vitality.
Outside the window, faintly from the direction of the family ancestral hall, came the clamor of voices and the music of the ritual. It only made his little side room feel more like a forgotten tomb.
Today was the Li Family's annual grand ceremony to worship the "Ancestral Spirit." Li Yuan had a vague sense that this so-called Ancestral Spirit was no benevolent presence. The air was thick not only with incense but also with an almost imperceptible, heart-chilling cold.
After an unknown length of time, the commotion outside gradually died down.
"Creak—"
The dilapidated wooden door was shoved open roughly. A sturdy servant in a blue tunic stood in the doorway, holding a wooden bucket. His face wore undisguised contempt.
"Hey, useless trash, get up!" The servant thumped the bucket onto the ground. Inside was murky dishwater slicked with oil, along with a few unrecognizable, overcooked vegetable leaves and scraps of bone and meat. "The ceremony's over. This is your reward. Hurry up and eat, then clean up the Altar outside the ancestral hall!"
His icy command was not the way one spoke to a fellow clansman. It was how one barked at a stray dog.
Li Yuan didn't reply. He simply pushed himself up from the straw. Years of malnutrition made his vision go black for a moment, and his thin frame swayed beneath his flimsy clothes. He walked to the door without so much as glancing at the servant, his gaze settling on the bucket.
The mixed leftovers reeked of something revolting, but his empty stomach churned violently at the sight. He crouched and reached in with his bony fingers, carefully rummaging through the cold grease and food scraps.
His fingers touched something hard and cold.
It was a piece of meat about the size of a baby's fist. He couldn't tell what part of the animal it came from. It was dark in color, streaked with blood that hadn't been cleaned off, and capped with a layer of congealed white fat. In the slop bucket, it counted as a "delicacy."
Li Yuan's fingers paused for the briefest moment. Then, quickly and casually, he closed his hand around the meat and slipped it into a hidden pocket in his sleeve. The whole thing happened silently. The servant was looking impatiently up at the sky and hadn't noticed.
"What are you dawdling for? You think you're still a young master?" The servant spat. "Hurry up. Cleaning the Altar is important. If you hold things up, the Third Elder will skin you alive!"
Li Yuan picked up the half-full bucket and walked out with his eyes lowered. The bone-chilling wind wrapped around him at once, making him shudder. Yet the cold piece of meat in his sleeve seemed to carry a faint warmth, helping him press on.
A few young men and women in fine robes approached along the path to the ancestral hall. They had clearly just attended the ceremony as direct descendants. Their faces were flushed and their blood ran strong; they chatted with the ease and arrogance of those born to rule.
When they spotted Li Yuan, gaunt and carrying a bucket of slop, they stopped, amusement spreading across their faces.
The young man at the head of the group was Li Peng, the Third Elder's grandson. He enjoyed tormenting Li Yuan and did so whenever he could. Looking him up and down, he sneered. "Well, well. If it isn't our Li Family 'genius,' Li Yuan. What happened? The Ancestral Spirit didn't pick you, so you got left behind to eat slop?"
A girl beside him covered her mouth and giggled. "Brother Peng, don't say that. Little Li Yuan is so 'precious.' I hear he has the one-in-ten-thousand Yin Sha Body. Even the Ancestral Spirit couldn't bear to swallow him in one bite, so it has to raise him slowly."
"Yin Sha Body? More like a short-lived body!" Li Peng roared with laughter. He stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Li Yuan's bony chest. It felt icy and stiff beneath his touch. "Look at you. One gust of wind and you'll topple over. Li Yuan, don't say your big brother never takes care of you. The sacrificial animals offered to the Ancestral Spirit in the ancestral hall are treasures, full of vital energy. But with your scrawny body... you'd probably cough up three pints of blood just from smelling the Killing Intent, wouldn't you? You wouldn't be able to stomach it!"
His malicious mockery struck Li Yuan's ears like icicles. He kept his head bowed, gripping the bucket's handle so tightly his knuckles turned white. His nails dug deep into his palm, the sharp sting barely keeping the humiliation and fury churning in his chest at bay.
He couldn't fight back. Not yet.
He silently turned aside to let them pass.
Seeing how meekly Li Yuan took it, Li Peng lost interest. He snorted and swaggered past with the others, leaving behind a string of grating laughter.
Li Yuan raised his head and watched them disappear into the distance. Deep in his eyes lay a coldness like ice frozen for ten thousand years. He touched the cold meat in his sleeve, then set off again toward the Altar outside the ancestral hall.
The Altar was built from blue-black boulders, its surface carved with twisted, Anomaly-laden runes. The ceremony had just ended, leaving ashes from burned talismans, splashes of dark red sacrificial blood, and shattered remains of some unknown beast's bones scattered across it. The air was thick with the smell of blood and another coldness, hard to describe, like that of a tomb untouched for centuries.
He had been ordered to clean up this "mess."
He set down the bucket of slop and began cleaning in silence. When his hands touched the soil and bone fragments stained with sacrificial blood, the Bone-Chilling Cold that had long coiled inside him seemed to stir. A faint pull stirred within it, as if it hungered for these things, but an even deeper weakness soon smothered it.
He knew his constitution was unusual. He also vaguely understood that the family's decision to keep him—and even drive his branch of the family to ruin—had something to do with this constitution and the so-called Ancestral Spirit. He was like a sacrificial beast penned in a cage, waiting for the appointed moment to be sent to the Altar and squeezed dry of every last drop of value.
By the time he had quickly cleaned the Altar, darkness had fallen completely. The wind howled like ghosts wailing.
Li Yuan carried the bucket of slop, almost untouched, and hurried back to the dilapidated side room. Only after he shut the door and cut himself off from the outside world did he seem to set down a thousand-pound burden. He leaned against the door and gasped for breath.
Hunger and cold were two venomous snakes, gnawing at his will.
Carefully, he pulled the piece of meat from his sleeve. It was cold and stiff, streaked with blood and fat, and looked almost disgusting. But to him, it was precious energy that could keep him alive.
There was no fire, and he couldn't make one. He simply opened his mouth and bit hard into the raw, cold meat.
The meat was tough, tainted with a heavy, bloody taste and ice crystals, and it went down his throat with difficulty. He forced himself to swallow it bite by bite, feeling the cold food drop into his empty stomach.
After the final bite, he licked the grease from the corners of his mouth, still wanting more. Then he curled back up on the cold straw and hugged himself, trying to draw out a little warmth.
Night deepened.
The cold inside him surged again, more violently than ever. It was more than simple cold. It was like a living thing, worming through his meridians and bones, gnawing at him and bringing an unending, fine-grained agony. He knew the Yin Sha Curse had flared up again. The family had planted it in him to slowly devour his vitality; when it struck, it felt like ten thousand ants gnawing at his heart.
He curled into a ball in agony. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, only to turn icy in an instant. His consciousness drifted between excruciating pain and numb, freezing blankness.
Just as he felt he was about to be swallowed completely by the endless darkness and cold—
A faint light shone without warning in the deepest part of his consciousness.
The light was incredibly dim, yet it carried an indescribably scorching quality.
It was like... a crimson spark buried deep in the dying embers of ash.
The instant this "spark" appeared, the raging Bone-Chilling Cold inside him seemed to meet its Nemesis. It suddenly stalled!
And the meat he had just swallowed, not yet fully absorbed, suddenly released a faint but real warmth—far beyond what he could have expected. It spread slowly through his nearly frozen limbs and bones as that imperceptible heat swept over him!
Li Yuan's eyes flew open.
In the darkness, a faint trace of red seemed to flash deep in his pupils.
His body was still cold, and the pain had not entirely faded.
But in that instant, he had truly felt something different.
A possibility... called "warmth."
Before you continue