A Fallen Prodigy, and a God Who Steps into a Dream

Primeval Holy Land, Falling Geese Peak.

Compared with the main peak's towering purple aura and bustling crowds, Falling Geese Peak was desolate. It had once been home to the oldest lineage of the Primeval Holy Land, but after an upheaval centuries ago, it had fallen into ruin. Now it was little more than a barren hill where the sect dumped odds and ends and discarded spirit swords.

Before a dilapidated stone hut deep within Falling Geese Peak, a young man in coarse hemp clothes sat quietly on a slab of bluestone.

He held a rough whetstone and slowly sharpened an iron sword that had lost half its blade and was mottled with rust.

"Scrape... scrape..."

The dull, monotonous sound echoed through the empty valley.

His name was Lin Qiye.

Three years ago, that name had shone brighter than any other in the entire Canglan Realm.

He had reached Deification at fifteen and attained profound mastery of sword intent at seventeen. Hailed as the "Crown of Prodigies," he was considered the most promising candidate for Holy Lord the Primeval Holy Land had seen in a hundred thousand years. Even several old demon emperors of the Demon Domain had lamented, "If this boy lives, the demon race will never rise again."

Yet all that glory had vanished in the Demon-Sealing Calamity two years ago.

To protect his junior disciples and stop abyssal demonic energy from escaping, Lin Qiye had held off three great demons with only himself and his sword for three days and three nights.

The demonic energy was sealed in the end, but he paid a terrible price—

The demonic poison seared the sight from both his eyes. Demonic energy ravaged his meridians, and a great demon shattered his supreme Sword Heart in a desperate final strike.

A cripple without sight, intact meridians, or cultivation could hardly remain a Holy Son.

In recognition of his service to the sect, the Primeval Holy Land had not expelled him. It even sent medicine each month to help him recover. But that was all.

The cultivation world was cruel. Those who had nothing left to offer were eventually forgotten.

The disciples who had once flocked around him now considered it bad luck even to mention his name. The elders who had once placed such hopes in him sighed that heaven envied the gifted, then never set foot on Falling Geese Peak again.

"Scrape..."

Lin Qiye's expression remained calm.

A black cloth, faded from washing, covered his sightless eyes. Though he could not see, the hand holding the sword was perfectly steady. With every stroke, he seemed to measure the blade's warmth with his very life.

He did not hate the sect for its indifference, nor did he resent the unfairness of fate.

The only thing he could not accept...

His sword was broken. His path had reached its end.

Then the scraping abruptly stopped.

In Lin Qiye's perception, the howling mountain wind seemed to fall still in an instant. A faint, elusive fragrance drifted into the air.

"Falling Geese Peak has been deserted for years. Which senior disciple has lost their way?" Lin Qiye did not turn. He laid the Broken Sword across his knees and tilted his head to listen, a gentle, self-mocking smile on his face.

"The prodigy who sealed the demons two years ago, reduced to sharpening a broken piece of iron on this barren mountain. What a pity."

A warm, mellow voice came from beneath a dead tree before him.

Lin Qiye's expression shifted slightly.

Before the stranger spoke, he had sensed no living presence at all. His cultivation might be gone, but two years of blindness had honed his hearing and spiritual perception far beyond those of ordinary people.

"Senior, you are..." Lin Qiye's self-mocking smile faded, and his expression grew grave.

Beneath the dead tree stood Su Chen in an azure robe, his hands clasped behind his back as he quietly studied the former prodigy.

Su Chen had used the system to conceal his presence completely. Even if Ji Changkong came here in person, he would see only a mortal with no trace of spiritual energy.

"I'm only a sweeper at the Library Pavilion. Hardly anyone worthy of being called senior."

Su Chen stepped forward, glanced at the broken sword across Lin Qiye's knees, and said softly:

"If your eyes are blind, listen with your ears. If your Sword Heart is shattered, strike with your will. Your sword may be broken, but that defiance in your bones seems intact."

Lin Qiye shuddered violently.

Over the past two years, countless people had told him to "accept your loss," "move on," or even "enjoy the rest of your life."

But this mysterious man in azure had gone straight to the wound Lin Qiye was least willing to face—and least willing to abandon.

"Hearing is no substitute for sight, and striking with will is empty talk."

Lin Qiye shook his head ruefully and ran a finger over the cold, broken edge:

"My meridians are shattered. My Qi Sea has vanished. In this broken Canglan Realm, heaven has already taken back the life it gave me. What could I possibly strike with?"

"Heaven has taken back your life?"

Su Chen lowered his head slightly. A profound light, deep as an abyss, stirred within his gentle eyes:

"What if heaven itself is broken? What if the great path laid down by the Heavenly Dao has always been a dead end?"

Boom!

It was as though thunder had exploded inside Lin Qiye's mind.

He had felt the vision of the Heavenly Court Collapse that shook the entire Canglan Realm the night before. Though he could not see it, he would never forget that overwhelming Immortal Dao pressure or the sense that heaven and earth were grieving together.

"You... you know the truth behind last night's vision?!" Lin Qiye sprang to his feet. The movement sent the broken sword clattering from his knees to the ground.

He did not seem to notice. His cloth-covered face fixed on Su Chen, and his breathing grew ragged.

Su Chen did not answer.

"Lin Qiye, let me ask you one question."

Su Chen's voice turned ethereal and distant, like a divine decree descending from the highest heavens:

"If you had a chance to wield a power above the laws of this broken Heavenly Dao and use it to follow the justice and the way of the sword you believe in—but the price was bearing a weight of karma lost for a hundred and twenty thousand years and making an enemy of the great terror that destroyed the supreme Heavenly Court..."

"Would you dare accept it?"

Lin Qiye stood frozen.

The wind rose again, whipping his rough hemp clothes.

He could not see Su Chen's face, but he could feel the unimaginable weight and grandeur behind those words.

This was no idle mortal jest. It was more like a pact spanning endless ages, one bound up in the life and death of gods and demons!

After a moment of dead silence.

Lin Qiye slowly bent down, felt around, and picked up the broken sword.

He held it across his chest. There were no tears in his sightless eyes, but an almost obsessive calm and resolve settled over his young face:

"Two years ago, I, Lin Qiye, dared to block an abyss of demonic energy with my own flesh and blood. Why would I be afraid today?"

"If I can hold a sword again, making an enemy of a 'great terror' is nothing..."

Lin Qiye drove the Broken Sword into the bluestone beside him, each word ringing clear:

“Even if my broken body must become a stepping stone for the Heavenly Court's return, what have I to fear?!”

"Good."

Beneath the dead tree, Su Chen laughed.

"Remember what you said today."

"Tonight, I will grant you an opportunity in your dreams."

With that, he fell silent.

In the darkness before Lin Qiye's eyes, a blinding flash of purple light suddenly appeared. By the time he tried to sense his surroundings again, the faint fragrance had vanished without a trace.

On the empty Falling Geese Peak, only a dead tree, a Broken Sword, and a wounded young man standing motionless remained.

As though everything that had just happened were no more than an absurd waking dream.

That night.

A bright moon hung overhead, bathing the world in pale light.

Lin Qiye sat cross-legged on his crumbling stone bed as the demonic poison in his body began to ache again. With his meridians shattered, the remnants of demonic energy tormented him each night like ten thousand ants gnawing at his bones.

But tonight, for some reason, the pain gradually faded.

A powerful weariness washed over him. After two years of constant tension and vigilance, Lin Qiye fell into a deep sleep.

"Splash... splash..."

It was the sound of flowing water.

Lin Qiye found himself standing above a vast golden river.

He instinctively raised his head and froze.

He could see.

After two full years of blindness, his sight had returned!

No, this was no ordinary mortal sight. Not only could he see the golden river before him, but he could also see boundless ruins stretching above it.

A broad ancient road of white jade ran through them. Broken immortal weapons lay scattered everywhere, and on the fallen jade steps were two great characters he had never seen before, yet understood the instant he saw them—“Southern Heaven”!

"Is this... the Southern Heavenly Gate from last night's vision?!"

Lin Qiye cried out in shock.

Before he could recover, a low, ferocious beast's growl rose from the golden mist ahead.

"Roar—!"

The cry was sharp and fierce, like thunder falling from the highest heavens. Lin Qiye's soul trembled.

The mist parted.

A terrifying divine hound as large as a mountain emerged slowly, treading the golden waves. Dark, netherworld light radiated from its body, and its eyes shone like rubies.

Beside the hound, a tall, heroic figure stood quietly in the void.

He wore a three-peaked flying-phoenix cap and a pale yellow robe, with gold-threaded boots over dragon-patterned socks and a jade belt adorned with floral designs and eight treasures.

Most striking was the massive divine weapon held at an angle in his hand.

Twelve feet long and forged entirely from divine purple-gold iron, it had two edges and a pointed tip. An unmatched will to challenge heaven radiated from it!

The man simply stood there.

Yet to Lin Qiye, he seemed to be the center of all the heavens and countless worlds. Every law of the Great Dao, every mystery of heaven and earth, seemed no more than a speck of dust beneath his feet.

"Who are you...?"

Lin Qiye's voice trembled with the instinctive reverence a mortal felt before a supreme god.

The towering god slowly turned.

His face was strikingly handsome, and a proud smile that scorned the heavens touched his lips.

The next moment.

The god raised a hand and pointed to his forehead.

Boom!

A radiant golden line split open across his forehead without warning!

A terrifying golden divine eye opened. It radiated absolute Laws, could see into the depths of the Netherworld, and pierced every illusion across the heavens and countless worlds!

Within that golden eye, worlds perished and chaos began anew.

His vast divine voice seemed to cross a thousand ages before exploding like heavenly thunder in the depths of Lin Qiye's soul:

“I am the King of Manifest Grace, Sagely Power, Benevolence, and Protection of the Great Song, the Erlang Manifesting Sage True Lord of the Ancient Heavenly Court—Yang Jian!”

“Mortal Lin Qiye, will you inherit my Heavenly Eye and carry on my battle spirit?!”