Jiangzhou, Xu Commandery — Baima City.
This was a prosperous city cut through by a great river. Countless merchant ships traveled its waters, while smaller canals and streams ran beneath its streets, crisscrossing the city and dividing it with stone bridges. Poets painted and recited verses on those bridges, scholars strolled beneath the willows, and beautiful women leaned from carved window railings, their smiles and gestures captivating every passerby below.
Even though the world outside was drowning in chaos, Baima City remained as lively as ever—untouched by war, vibrant like a painting of a flourishing age.
But when dusk fell, that same splendor seemed to dim, tinted with melancholy.
In the northern district stood a grand estate. On its plaque were carved three large characters—
Ling Tian Mansion.
The mansion was vast, occupying nearly one-fourth of Baima City. Within its high walls lay numerous martial training grounds, large and small. Warriors filled them, sweating and shouting as they practiced—disciplined like a private army.
At one of these grounds, a man dressed in black stood with his hands behind his back, watching the young men and women train before him. He nodded slightly, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
"Protector Xiao's Body-Tempering Technique is truly remarkable," he thought. "Using the vital energy of heaven and earth to refine the body—give it twenty years… no, ten at most—and these young ones will be able to roam the martial world freely."
This man's name was Tian Jiang, Chief Instructor of Ling Tian Sect. Under him were one hundred instructors responsible for training the sect's youth.
Just then, a man with a saber at his waist hurried over. He came to Tian Jiang's side and reported, "Tomorrow, we expect more than ten new disciples. They're from the He Yue Gang."
Tian Jiang frowned. "He Yue Gang? Never heard of them. Why is the Sect Master accepting every stray dog and cat?"
The saber-wielding man chuckled. "We've only just taken over the Jiangzhou martial world. Our manpower's thin. We need to recruit whoever we can. And the He Yue Gang isn't weak—they've got about two to three hundred members. Their leader was once quite famous in the martial world, a genuine first-rate fighter."
Tian Jiang scoffed. "A so-called first-rate fighter? Only someone who's stepped into the Realm of Entry deserves that title."
"Do you know how difficult entering the Realm is?" the other man retorted. "Even in Ling Tian Sect, there aren't many. Stop complaining. Once we unify the entire martial world, the Sect Master will sort out who stays and who goes. Don't forget—we're going to face Qingxiao Sect soon. You know how terrifying they are."
He lowered his voice. "There'll be casualties no matter what. Better for outsiders to die than our own."
Tian Jiang's brows furrowed. He couldn't stand that kind of thinking—it was cowardly, unworthy of a sect that called itself the greatest under heaven. Still, with Qingxiao Sect looming, even Ling Tian Sect wasn't yet the true number one. He had to endure it.
Though he was Chief Instructor, his authority was limited to Ling Tian Mansion. When it came to major decisions, he had no say.
The saber-wielder noticed Tian Jiang's displeasure and changed the subject. "By the way, the news about the Jiang clan's extermination has spread. The entire martial world's shaken. Everyone's waiting to see how Qingxiao Sect reacts. With Li Qingqiu's domineering nature, I'd bet he's already sent people down the mountain. Even though the Mansion's got Protectors guarding it, you should stay alert—don't let a Qingxiao disciple sneak in and slit your throat."
Tian Jiang sneered. "People in the martial world praise Li Qingqiu as if he can single-handedly fight an army. I don't buy it. If you ask me, Zhao Zhi's incompetence and corruption made it easy for Li Qingqiu to kill him."
The sabered man shrugged, not bothering to argue. There was no point debating such things.
After chatting for a bit more, he turned and left.
Ling Tian Sect was expanding rapidly, and everyone was busy. There was too much to do, too many territories to claim.
To them, they weren't conquerors—they were visionaries. They believed they were bringing order to chaos, uniting the martial world under one rule to create peace. That belief kept their morale high and their ambition burning.
As the sky darkened, Tian Jiang clapped his hands, drawing the young disciples' attention.
"That's enough for today. Tomorrow at the hour of Chen, no one is to be late!"
His voice boomed across the training ground, his tone harsh from irritation.
But something was off. The young disciples didn't cheer or disperse as they usually did. Instead, they stood frozen—staring behind him.
No—not at him.
A chill shot through Tian Jiang. He turned around instinctively, and his pupils contracted.
Silhouettes stood along the high outer wall of the mansion, one after another. More and more appeared by the second—all clad in matching blue robes.
Something was wrong.
Just as he opened his mouth to shout, a sharp whistling sound tore through the air. He instinctively sidestepped.
Puchi—!
A flying sword streaked past, slicing open Tian Jiang's throat before embedding itself deep into the stone floor. Blood spattered across its gleaming blade.
The young disciples of Ling Tian Sect froze for a heartbeat—then, as Tian Jiang's body fell heavily to the ground, the air filled with terrified screams. They scattered in panic.
The sword that had pierced the floor trembled violently, then shot back into the air—landing neatly in Jiang Zhaoxia's hand.
Standing on the wall, the figures were none other than Qingxiao Sect disciples, led by Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning.
More and more Ling Tian warriors spotted them. Alarm drums sounded, echoing through the mansion, their thunderous rhythm spreading panic and urgency as the entire Ling Tian Mansion went into high alert.
Xu Ning turned to Jiang Zhaoxia and asked coldly, "How do we kill?"
Jiang Zhaoxia's family had been slaughtered. Xu Ning knew his hatred ran deep, so she left the decision to him.
Jiang Zhaoxia's eyes gleamed coldly. "Kill only Ling Tian Sect members. Those forced to join them can live—but they'd better speak quickly. If they hesitate, they die all the same."
He raised his sword. "From this day on, let every martial artist under heaven fear to join Ling Tian Sect!"
With that, he leapt from the wall like a soaring goose, charging into the mansion.
Xu Ning was momentarily surprised. Facing the slaughter of his clan, Jiang Zhaoxia's killing intent was calmer than she expected.
In the past, even without such hatred, he never showed mercy during missions.
But she didn't dwell on it. She followed after him, her sword flashing as she descended.
The purge of Ling Tian Mansion had begun. And this was only the first—
there were many more across the nine provinces yet to be burned to the ground.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves, scattering across the forest floor. A young man was striking a tree again and again, his fists slamming into the bark until the skin on his knuckles was torn and bloody. Yet he did not stop.
That man was Jiang Nian, the younger brother of Jiang Zhaoxia. At twenty-three, he shared some resemblance with his elder brother, though his figure was thinner and less imposing.
With every punch he threw, faces of his enemies flashed through his mind—those mocking grins from the men of Ling Tian Sect. The hatred boiling inside him was enough to make his heart explode.
But more than that, he remembered his brother's earlier scolding words. The bitterness from that moment burned just as fiercely as his grief.
The weight of vengeance consumed him. He wanted power—he needed it.
Before the massacre of his clan, he had despised martial training. He believed studying and serving as an official was the righteous path. But when the killers came, where was the government then? Where were those officials he had once admired?
Now, he trusted only his own fists.
"You can't grow stronger like this. You're just destroying yourself."
A calm voice came from the side. Jiang Nian turned his head and saw a boy—no older than ten—walking toward him.
Despite his youth, the boy carried an air of maturity that did not belong to someone his age.
Jiang Nian frowned and barked, "Who are you? What do you know?"
"I'm Yuan Li," the boy said evenly, stopping ten steps away. "Like you, my family was wiped out. Only my brother and I survived."
Jiang Nian froze.
He clenched his fists tighter and said coldly, "So what? You're here to tell me to let go of hatred? To be like you? You're just a child—what do you know of vengeance? You didn't see what I saw! You didn't watch your mother's chest pierced through by a sword, or your father's arm hacked off while he screamed on the ground! You don't know that pain!"
His voice cracked, trembling between fury and tears.
Yuan Li looked at him quietly. "You're right. I don't know that pain. But I do know your brother has already gone down the mountain. He's fighting your enemies right now. And you—standing here, punching a tree—what do you think that'll change? Do you really believe hitting a tree ten thousand times will let you take revenge?"
Jiang Nian's body stiffened. He sucked in a deep breath, then ground his teeth. "Then what should I do? I just joined the sect. How could I possibly learn powerful martial arts so quickly?"
"You should first complete your duties as a Registered Disciple," Yuan Li said seriously. "Start by working and calming your heart. Once you find inner peace, you'll naturally begin to learn martial arts. But remember—Qingxiao Sect's true strength isn't its martial arts. It's its cultivation methods—the way of immortality."
"Cultivation?"
Jiang Nian's eyes widened. He had heard whispers that Qingxiao Sect practiced immortality, but he had always dismissed it as fantasy.
Yuan Li continued, "Given your connection to Uncle Jiang, you'll definitely have the chance to learn immortal cultivation in the future. But if you keep holding onto this rage, what use will it be? Even if you master the ways of cultivation, what then? You'll rush into battle for revenge, die pointlessly, and waste the resources the sect invested in you. You're not just wasting your own potential—you're taking away what could've gone to another disciple."
Wasting resources?
It was the first time Jiang Nian had ever heard such a concept. Rather than anger, he felt genuine curiosity.
"On Qingxiao Mountain, there are countless orphans," Yuan Li said. "Many carry hatred as deep as yours. My master once told me something—'Vengeance is just, but it cannot be the only reason for a person to live.'"
Those words struck Jiang Nian's heart like lightning.
He had heard that Qingxiao Sect often took in orphans. In the years under Zhao Zhi's rule, those children's tragedies were no less cruel than his own.
Yuan Li continued, "Trust your brother. He's strong—strong enough to avenge your clan. You don't have to let hatred consume you. Instead, you should focus on catching up to him. One day, you can rebuild the Jiang clan. When that day comes, your parents and your ancestors will be proud."
Rebuild the Jiang clan…
Jiang Nian's eyes widened. A cool breeze brushed past his face, and something inside him seemed to open up—a moment of sudden clarity.
Yuan Li turned to leave. He had only stopped to offer advice in passing, but since Jiang Nian's story mirrored his own, he couldn't help but care.
Jiang Nian called out, "What about you, then? You're still so young, yet you speak as if you've lived a lifetime. What's your goal?"
Yuan Li paused mid-step but didn't turn around. His voice was firm, every word laced with determination.
"I will cultivate immortality. I will protect Qingxiao Sect. I will become my master's greatest pride."
He looked toward the distant mountains and added,
"And I will become Number One Under Heaven."
As his words faded into the forest, Yuan Li resumed walking, his small figure soon swallowed by the light between the trees.
Jiang Nian stood silently, watching his back disappear. He couldn't explain why—but from that boy's tone, he had heard something raw and powerful… a deep unwillingness, and an unshakable resolve.