Soul-Lost Bay was a perilous stretch of the Qingyuan River. Its surface was shrouded in white mist year-round, and anyone who ventured in could easily lose their way, never to find the route back. No one dared go near it save for a handful of reckless fishermen. It was as dangerous a place as any.
Deep in Soul-Lost Bay lay a peninsula, backed by mountains and stretching out into the water like a great fish with half its body leaping above the surface. The island was thick with trees, and carried an air of quiet seclusion.
Deep in the dense forest stood a mountain stronghold, silent as a vicious wolf watching the world beyond. It watched, bided its time, and waited for an opportunity. This was Wooden Fish Island, the hideout of the notorious River-Sweeping Bandits.
Though Soul-Lost Bay was dangerous, the waters around its outskirts were calm. It was an important trade route connecting Qinghe County to the commandery city, and a highly lucrative one.
The River-Sweeping Bandits had released a carp here, claiming it was an offering to the River Dragon King to bless the merchants passing through. Then they set up a checkpoint and demanded ample passage money from every merchant caravan. Otherwise, neither people nor cargo could leave Soul-Lost Bay.
The Qinghe County authorities had sent people to wipe out the River-Sweeping Bandits many times. But each time, the bandits retreated into Soul-Lost Bay, using its treacherous terrain to fend off the attacks.
As the years went by, the authorities wasted men and money while the bandits grew ever bolder. In the end, the authorities tacitly accepted their existence.
Of course, the River-Sweeping Bandits knew better than to cross the authorities. They never attacked government vessels, and they took money rather than lives, making sure not to cause any bloodshed shocking enough to spread far and wide.
When they did strike, they wiped out every last witness, leaving no chance for word to get out. In this way, the River-Sweeping Bandits firmly established themselves across the hundred-mile stretch of Soul-Lost Bay.
Night had fallen, and the bright moon hung high overhead. The vast waterside stronghold had quieted down. Life there was harsh, and aside from the occasional sounds of couples at night, there was little entertainment. Except for the bandits on watch, most had already fallen fast asleep.
Meanwhile, in a residence on the outskirts of Wooden Fish Island, a young man in his twenties sat cross-legged in a basement, dressed in green and with sallow skin. He formed a hand seal, his eyes half-closed and his expression solemn, his whole demeanor tense.
He was Jiang Wang, a cultivator and one of the River-Sweeping Bandits' top lieutenants, ranking just below the three leaders.
"Heaven and earth, wandering soul—come!"
Biting the tip of his tongue, Jiang Wang drove the hand seal to its utmost limit. At that moment, the three oil lamps in the corner of the secret chamber suddenly blazed, bathing the room in a waxen-yellow glow.
But in the very next instant, an unseen yin wind swept in from the void.
At its touch, the three flames began to flicker as if about to go out. Two of them went dark one after the other. The moment the ritual was broken, Jiang Wang, who had been sitting cross-legged, spat out a mouthful of blood.
"F-failed... B-but why? I'd prepared for every eventuality. Is Heaven determined to destroy me?"
Blood streamed from all seven orifices. Jiang Wang's breath ceased, and he collapsed to the ground, his face full of unwillingness.
At the same time, a wisp of soul-light from some unknown place in the void came and merged completely with Jiang Wang's body.
A short while later, Jiang Wang—bloodied at all seven orifices and supposed to be dead—slowly climbed up from the floor. His eyes, however, were filled with confusion.
"Secret art... Soul Summoning Guide..."
Blood tears still wet at the corners of his eyes, "Jiang Wang" stared around in a daze, as if he were still dreaming, still not fully back to his senses.
The secret chamber was small, like an earthen cellar for storing food. Its furnishings were sparse: apart from a meditation cushion, there was only an incense burner. Wisps of smoke still curled up from it, filling the room with a faint, pleasant fragrance.
Three oil lamps sat in the corner of the chamber. Two had gone out completely, leaving only one burning with a ghastly pale flame. It looked deeply unsettling.
"I'm Jiang Chen. He's Jiang Wang."
"I'm a survivor of the apocalypse. He's a cultivator from this world."
"I've transmigrated—or, more accurately, returned to life in another body."
As the memories in his mind slowly dissolved, the confusion on "Jiang Wang's" face faded away. The emptiness in his eyes gave way to color once more.
"Dying was a good thing. There was nothing worth missing in that apocalyptic world. To be reborn in this strange new world is a stroke of immense fortune. After all, judging by Jiang Wang's remaining memories, conditions here are pretty good. At least I won't go hungry."
"Most importantly, this world seems to have a complete cultivation system, with beings known as immortals."
After digesting Jiang Wang's remaining memories, Jiang Chen quickly accepted the fact that he had returned to life in another body and crossed over into an entirely new world.
He had been a citizen of Xuan Star. Though he had been nothing more than a hard-working cog in the machine, society there had been stable, and he'd never wanted for food or drink. He'd lived a comfortable life—until an inexplicable crisis swept in and changed everything. The apocalypse had arrived.
In the apocalypse, humanity, once the rulers of Xuan Star, had been knocked from its throne and cast into the mire, left to struggle desperately for survival. Jiang Chen had suffered through it all. He had fought stray dogs for scraps and been betrayed by people he trusted.
If he hadn't awakened an ability later and gained some measure of strength, he would have died long ago. Yet even after awakening, he hadn't truly changed anything. He kept losing things, again and again, until he grew numb. Compared to an apocalypse that had overturned everything, his meager strength was too insignificant to matter.
"My ability is still here."
His eyes were deep and shadowy, as if they concealed a Dark Sea. After carefully sensing his condition, the last trace of unease in Jiang Chen's heart quietly faded. Having endured the apocalypse, he knew all too well that everything else was illusory. Only power was truly reliable. As long as he still had his ability, he had a foundation on which to stand.
"Soul Illumination!"
A faint, ghostly light bloomed in his eyes. Jiang Chen activated his ability to delve further into the fragmented memories in his mind, not letting a single detail slip by.
To make a place for himself in this unfamiliar world, information was vital. And now, the only one who could provide it was the local, Jiang Wang—through the remnants of his soul. Fortunately, Jiang Chen's soul ability excelled at just this. Getting the dead to speak was no miracle to him.
A short while later, the ghostly light faded from his eyes, and Jiang Chen stopped. By now, the fragments had come together, forming a relatively complete story in his mind.
The story was simple enough: a cultivator, so consumed by the pursuit of immortality that he'd gone nearly mad, had tried to change his desperate circumstances by forcibly using a forbidden secret art. The result was disaster, and he'd died without achieving anything. That was all.
"This is Qinghe County, in the Nanjing Kingdom. Based on some of the cultivation knowledge Jiang Wang left behind, I guess I can be called an otherworldly demon."
As his thoughts took shape, Jiang Chen fell into contemplation.
Cultivation in this world included the Spirit Sensing, Qi Refining, and Dao Foundation realms, among others. Spirit Sensing was the first step on the path of cultivation.
Cultivators in this realm calmed their minds and focused their thoughts, sensing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. They continuously drew it in to wash over their bodies and transform their constitutions, allowing their mortal flesh to gradually absorb spiritual resonance and grow more attuned to spiritual energy.
Once their cultivation was complete and spiritual resonance permeated their entire bodies, cultivators would transform from mortals into spirit-born beings.
Of course, this realm was mainly about laying a foundation. Cultivators had yet to produce True Qi or manifest magical power, so they couldn't use any true transcendent techniques. Instead, they relied on their bodies, which gradually grew stronger. In outward appearance, there was little to distinguish them from ordinary martial artists. Jiang Wang, the previous owner of Jiang Chen's current body, had become stuck at this very step.
He had begun cultivating at fourteen, using the Qi Induction Technique to draw in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and wash his body. After six years of painstaking effort, he had finally completed the process in his four limbs, but he'd stalled at his torso, unable to make any further progress. Two more years had gone by in vain.
That was exactly why he'd taken the desperate risk of setting up the Soul Summoning Guide ritual. He'd tried to capture some wandering souls of heaven and earth, strengthening the foundation of his own soul so he could forcibly draw spiritual energy with its power and break through this bottleneck.
After all, his head would be even harder to cleanse than his torso. If he kept dragging things out, he might truly never reach Qi Refining in his lifetime.
"Is cultivation in this world really so difficult?"
Recalling Jiang Wang's life, Jiang Chen frowned slightly in the ghastly pale candlelight.
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