The Beginning of Everything

Gradually, the sound of breathing softened, and the heartbeat began to grow distinct. Thump, thump. He could feel the blood in his entire body surging with every beat of his heart.

As his pulse rhythmically expanded and contracted, he felt a faint, tingling sensation rising from his tailbone. This sensation was intermittent, often vanishing after climbing four or five vertebrae, only to start over again. The entire process was maddening and deeply frustrating.

With ears deaf to sound, heart oblivious to its own rhythm, and eyes seeing nothing, his consciousness sank deeper and deeper along with this sensation... It felt as if his very consciousness were fading away, leaving him in a chaotic void where heaven and earth were indistinguishable. Everything around him was shrouded in a grey, smoky mist; he longed to discern the truth, yet it remained forever out of reach.

Within this chaos, there seemed to be a light. At first, it felt as large as the moon, but it was ethereal and intangible. Whenever he tried to focus his consciousness upon it, the mere act of intent would shatter his meditative state.

Progress was agonizingly slow. Over the past three months, he had managed to condense this radiance only to the size of a soybean, and since then, he had not gained another inch.

Sensing the stubbornness of the light, which refused to condense even a fraction more, he was just about to withdraw his focus and exit the state when, suddenly, golden light erupted. He felt a continuous, unbroken stillness, a sense of profound joy, as if intoxicated or bathed in warmth. His entire body felt suffused with solar heat, and for a moment, all sounds ceased, the bright moon hung high in the sky, and the entire earth seemed to be a realm of pure light.

At this moment, he knew the method of "Reflecting the Light" had succeeded. This was a clear manifestation of the heart-mind opening and the golden flower blooming.

His joy gradually subsided, and he clearly sensed the difference from before. His intent could now be retracted or released at will; he no longer needed to regulate his breath or calm his mind as he once did. A single thought was enough to manifest or cease his intent.

Moreover, unlike before, when he had to manipulate the radiance with his mind, he now was the light itself—the very center of this primordial realm.

He was this...

Huh? Something is wrong! Why is the surrounding chaos moving?

According to the alchemy texts, the light that appears during this initial reflection should remain within the Dantian. And what was wrong with his Dantian? Why did it feel as if it were collapsing inward?

This is...

It is...

As his consciousness returned once more, it was met with a cacophony of noise.

The clamor was maddening. He wanted to open his eyes to see what was happening, but he found his body unresponsive to his will.

Not only were his eyelids stuck shut, but his entire body ached. Though he could not see his surroundings, he knew the situation was dire.

Soon, Bai Sui felt something touching him, and the other party was pressing down on his abdomen with great force.

A sharp, intense pain overwhelmed all other sensations, forcing Bai Sui, who had been struggling to wake, to snap his eyes open.

The sudden intrusion of light into his field of vision made it impossible for Bai Sui to truly see his situation, even with his eyes open.

Gradually, as he adapted to the glare, Bai Sui—whose consciousness had been trapped in darkness—saw his surroundings for the first time.

A man, appearing to be in his forties or fifties, had both hands pressed firmly against Bai Sui's lower abdomen.

It seemed that Bai Sui's sudden struggle had startled the man.

However, the man merely exchanged a glance with Bai Sui before returning his focus to the task at hand.

As the man continued his work, a piercing pain struck again.

Bai Sui looked toward the source of the agony and realized that the clothing over his lower abdomen was soaked in blood.

The man was tearing away the fabric, and it was this movement that had agitated the wound and jolted Bai Sui awake.

The pain caused Bai Sui's tears to flow uncontrollably, and his limbs twitched weakly.

With his vision blurred by tears, Bai Sui could not clearly see how the man was treating his wound, but he understood that the man was attempting to save him.

Wave after wave of pain washed over him until, finally unable to endure it, Bai Sui lost consciousness once more.

During this blackout, Bai Sui felt as though he were experiencing an exceptionally long dream.

In the dream, there was a remote little village.

Though isolated, the village leaned against the mountains and relied on the protection of a clan.

This clan was the Uzumaki Clan. Every member of the clan possessed strength far beyond that of ordinary people, and it was precisely this power that allowed them to shield the region.

Yet, every advantage has its drawbacks. Although the village relied on the protection of the Uzumaki Clan, it still belonged to the territory of the Land of Fire.

Compared to other villages, they had to pay an extra tax as the price for their peaceful existence.

This opportunity to pay an extra tribute was something many other villages would have begged for.

After all, choosing to "voluntarily" pay was far better than having one's wealth plundered by others.

And so, the village lived in peace and stability under the protection of the Uzumaki Clan for decades.

That was until the Uzumaki Clan joined an alliance and ceased to remain neutral, and the flames of war reached the village for the first time.

Due to the village's remote geographical location, far from the Uzumaki ancestral lands, the protection they received was weak.

Consequently, those in the village with some means packed their valuables and fled.

Thanks to decades of peace and prosperity, quite a few people had actually managed to save up a decent amount of wealth.

At first, only a few families left; for one, they could not take their fields with them, and for another, it was hard to leave one's ancestral home.

Later, as the war escalated, the sounds of battle reached the village several times.

Terrified, more people began to migrate toward the Uzumaki lands.

Gradually, the number of people in the village dwindled, and the number of vacant houses and abandoned fields grew ever larger.

This resulted in a decrease in the village's actual labor force, leading to lower resource yields until, gradually, they were barely enough to pay the taxes.

This compelled the village to seek out external labor, and one day, a young couple fled to the village and settled down.

After all, although the village might eventually be ravaged by war, it had not yet happened, making it a safe haven in the eyes of many displaced people.

The previous skirmishes had also altered the surrounding terrain; the village, once nestled by the sea and encircled by woods, had changed.

Successive battles had burned down more than half of the forest, making the path to the village much easier to traverse.

That couple was not an isolated case; there were dozens of other refugees just like them.

Having experienced the fires of war, these newcomers cherished peace deeply and were incredibly grateful to the village for taking them in. They never slacked off while working, and to everyone's surprise, the following year's harvest exceeded even the best years of the past.

After setting aside the portion for taxes, the villagers enjoyed a prosperous year.

Having tasted the benefits, the village pressed on, continuing to recruit fleeing refugees.

Although the people who arrived had different motives and varying characters, every single laborer brought a significant harvest to the village.

But misfortune often hides within good fortune; the village's growing prosperity eventually attracted unwanted attention.