Chapter 1: Good and evil will have their due in the end

The mountain path was rugged, so he decisively abandoned his horse and followed the bloodstains on the road.

The prey was a limping rock sheep; it appeared briefly on the mountainside before vanishing into the dense jungle.

Sunlight could not penetrate the thick forest, and heavy shadows lay everywhere. It was noon, yet the myrtle berries were still hung with the previous night's dew. The ground was covered in a variety of leaves, with gnarled old roots beneath that could easily trip a person.

Tracking was very difficult in such an environment, but he still discovered a few drops of fresh blood on the leaves, as well as a small tuft of hair snagged on a tree trunk.

Yes, this was the direction.

Rock sheep indeed had the habit of climbing higher when encountering an enemy.

He climbed upward quickly, ignoring the fact that in the jungle shadows ten yards ahead, a pair of eyes was fixed intently upon him.

These eyes were filled with astonishing fury and hatred.

After climbing over a large rock on the ridge, he saw the rock sheep again, lowering its head to lick the wound on its leg. Just as he reached for the bow and arrows on his back, his peripheral vision caught a shadow sprinting toward him, moving as fast as light.

That is...?

Before the thought could fully form, the creature had already pounced on him.

It was actually a massive leopard, its size comparable to a fierce tiger. Its front paws were larger than his head, and its fur looked as if it had been bleached, faded to the color of gravel.

The giant leopard opened its mouth, a foul wind rushing into his face. He instinctively raised his arm to shield his vitals, only to hear a "crack"—his armored forearm was bitten straight through, and he couldn't tell if the bone had broken. With the creature's powerful impact, he couldn't even stand steady and tumbled straight down the ridge.

The leopard tangled with him, biting frantically. He couldn't help but scream, but that didn't stop his other hand from drawing a short blade from his waist, stabbing more than a dozen bloody holes into his opponent!

The weapon was sharp enough to slice through iron; not to mention the severe damage to the leopard's internal organs, even the two stabs to its chest sent blood spurting out, splashing all over his head and face.

All living creatures have an instinct for survival; even the fiercest beast should have abandoned its enemy and fled by now.

But this one before him simply did not!

It dragged him along as it charged desperately outward, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Looking into the leopard's blood-red eyes, he realized it had gone mad.

A sand leopard shouldn't even be here—where did this damn thing come from? It even roared a sentence in human speech at him:

"The God Bone shall never be yours!"

"Let go, let go now!" He was terrified out of his wits, stabbing the leopard's neck three more times, using every ounce of his strength to break free.

There was no way to survive down there!

Yet, no matter how severe the injuries, they could not stop the leopard's pace. The next second, both their bodies felt weightless.

Man and leopard, entangled, plummeted into the hundred-zhang abyss.

Even in death, the leopard was still causing trouble, biting down on his neck.

With a soft "pop," the protective pendant hanging around his neck burst into red light and shattered.

In that instant, the final frame frozen in his vision was four blood-stained fangs!

￥￥￥￥￥

"Ah—!"

He Lingchuan sat up with a shout, scaring the group of people around him silly.

The maid closest to him retreated three steps in shock, and a plain-looking man appeared from nowhere, standing by his side and looking around: "Young Master?"

Before him was an exquisite small hall, with two screens depicting strange mountains and beautiful waters. In the center was a stage; the people on stage were dressed in full costume, while the audience below was cracking melon seeds, drinking tea, and chatting. There were over two hundred people in total, all looking up here at once.

Right, he was in a private box on the second floor; the scent of sweet pear incense burned in the corner. On the silver tray to the side, water droplets still clung to the grapes and melon.

This was a theater called the Plucking Immortal Pavilion, not the edge of a hundred-zhang cliff. He Lingchuan regained his senses and instinctively pressed his neck: "I'm fine."

There had originally been four deep tooth marks here, only half an inch from his carotid artery, but they had already healed, with tender red flesh growing in. He had at least a dozen such new scars all over his body.

A necklace still hung around his neck.

He clearly remembered that the round jade pendant had shattered into eight pieces under the leopard's immense force. Somehow, after waking up, it was hanging perfectly fine around his neck again.

He didn't know when he had developed the habit, but he wanted to touch it whenever he was idle, as if this object had some unclear and mysterious connection to him.

There was another wealthy young master in the box, named Liu Baobao, who snapped his fingers at his attendant upon seeing this. The latter immediately moved to the railing and sang out to the floor below: "The Young Master is awake, continue!"

The operas popular in the Yuan Nation were short and fast-paced, seeking novelty and originality, often diving straight into the theme without long, drawn-out singing, so young people liked them very much, treating them like stories. Today, the Plucking Immortal Pavilion had prepared two new plays with famous actors headlining, but who knew that not long after the performance started, the Young Master He upstairs had fallen asleep. The following was an intense martial arts scene, and Liu Baobao, fearing it would disturb his beautiful dream, had called for a halt midway.

This wait lasted for over an hour, and the audience below was slightly grumbling, but fortunately, the guest of honor had woken up at this moment.

The sound of strings and bamboo instruments rose from below, and a clear male voice sang: "Let us speak of the Golden Bull, the guardian beast released by the Xiluo Nation, invincible—"

He Lingchuan frowned.

This play again?

He had fallen asleep listening to this very play just now, and now it was back?

Liu Baobao saw the expression in his eyes and immediately smiled: "Brother Chuan doesn't like it?"

He Lingchuan said slowly: "It's too tepid."

In fact, this was a special session opened by Liu Baobao; he was the one paying, and even the actors had been hand-picked by him over two months ago. The Plucking Immortal Pavilion had spent a fortune to invite this entire troupe from the interior to the godforsaken Heishuicheng.

But the big boss of the whole house was this sleepy-eyed person, and he added: "Next time, change to another theater, and don't call it 'Plucking Immortal Pavilion'. Are immortals peaches that you can just pluck at will?"

Liu Baobao laughed: "This place was originally called 'Plucking Star Pavilion', but later the proprietor thought the word 'Immortal' was better for business. That's just how it is—you name things after what you lack."

He Lingchuan half-squinted: "Oh, Heishuicheng lacks immortals?"

"Not at all, not at all, Heishuicheng has Lord He, that is enough!" Liu Baobao said hurriedly, "Immortals and such things are legendary, ethereal objects that can only be written in storybooks. Who could lack them?"

He quickly changed the subject: "Then shall we switch to Lord He's 'Fixing the Sword Mountain'?"

"Fine." With his own father's name being brought up, could He Lingchuan say no?

He leaned back, lying on the soft couch with his eyes half-closed. The middle-aged man waved away the surrounding attendants before asking in a low voice: "Those nightmares again?"

"Pfft." He sneered in denial, "No!"

"How is that possible!" He Lingchuan emphasized his tone, allowing no room for argument, "Uncle Hao, watch the play."

It was an unnecessary remark, but it fit his personality. The middle-aged man, Uncle Hao, did not argue and stood silently to the side.

The famous actors were highly skilled, and the audience below cheered repeatedly. He Lingchuan watched for a while, his gaze shifting to the curling light smoke on the incense burner, and he couldn't help but drift off again.

In fact, he was not He Lingchuan.

The real He Lingchuan was probably already gone.

He was just a nobody from another world, an inexplicable replacement.

His daily life was in a mediocre unit, doing a mediocre job, earning a mediocre salary. As a young man full of vigor, he often felt dissatisfied, but no matter how impassioned or critical he was in private, he immediately had to be peaceful and harmonious in front of others.

The beatings of society always turn people into the screws it wants.

It happened to be an economic downturn, and the unit had been withholding wages for three months, but he couldn't heroically say, "I'm not doing this, you guys go to hell," and then walk away.

How did he get here?

It's hard to say. He only remembered wandering around the entrance of a restaurant that day, and finally, out of kindness, going to patronize the small stall at the street corner. After all, in the middle of winter, business was hard for those exposed to the wind and cold.

"Boss, give me a pancake, add more green onions, add more sauce... no eggs or meat... yes, none at all."

As soon as he finished speaking, he saw a car crashing toward a little girl on the side of the road; the driver panicked, and the car's speed increased.

The tragedy was right before his eyes, and without thinking, he did the bravest thing of his life:

He lunged forward and scooped up the girl...

Did he think he was hit by the car? No, not at all.

He was unharmed, returned the child to the couple who rushed up, scolded the kid for two sentences, telling her to "remember to watch the road more" in the future, and then turned around.

Before he could walk two steps, a flower pot fell from the sky, hitting him precisely on the head.

And so, he was sent here.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a bed in pain, the room was antique, the people around him were showing surprise, and a handsome middle-aged man had tears in his eyes, his tone excited: "Lingchuan, you're finally awake!"

He touched his head and discovered he had become He Lingchuan, the eldest son of He Chunhua, the Prefect of Qiansong County, Jinzhou, Yuan Nation. ===== CHAPTER 2 =====