Chapter 1: Good and Evil Eventually Meet Their Leopard

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 flashed briefly halfway up the mountain before disappearing into the dense jungle.

Sunlight could not penetrate the thick forest, which was filled with heavy shadows everywhere. Though it was noon, the lantana berries were still covered in last night’s dew, and the ground was carpeted with all sorts of leaves, with tangled old roots beneath that could easily trip a person.

Tracking was very difficult in this environment, but he still discovered a few drops of fresh blood on the leaves and a small tuft of fur snagged on a tree trunk.

Yes, this was the right direction.

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

He climbed upward quickly, ignoring the fact that in the jungle shadows three yards ahead, a pair of eyes was staring fixedly at 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 to take the bow and arrows from his back, his peripheral vision caught a shadow sprinting toward him, moving as fast as light.

That is...?

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

It was actually a massive leopard, its size comparable to a fierce tiger, its front paws larger than his head, and its fur so faded it looked like gravel.

The giant leopard opened its mouth, a foul stench 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 didn't know if the bone was broken. With the force of that violent collision, he couldn't even stand steady and went rolling 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 and stabbing a dozen bloody holes into his opponent!

The weapon was sharp enough to slice through iron like mud; not to mention the heavy damage to the leopard’s internal organs, even the two stabs to its chest sent blood spraying, splashing all over his head and face.

All living things have an instinct for survival; even the most ferocious 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.

He looked into the leopard’s blood-red eyes and realized it had gone mad.

A sand leopard had no business appearing here; where did this damn thing come from! It even roared a sentence in human language at him:

"The Divine Bone shall never be yours!"

"Let go, let go, damn it!" He was scared 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 heavy the injuries, they could not stop the leopard’s pace. The next second, their bodies felt weightless.

Man and leopard, locked in a struggle, fell into a hundred-zhang deep abyss.

Even in its final moments, the leopard was still causing trouble, biting down on his neck.

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

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

￥￥￥￥￥

"Ah—!"

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

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

Before him was an exquisite small hall with two screens painted with strange mountains and beautiful waters; in the center was a stage where the performers were in full costume, while the audience below was cracking melon seeds, drinking tea, and chatting—there were over two hundred of them, all looking up here at once.

Right, he was in a second-floor private box, where a faint, sweet pear-blossom incense burned in the corner; in the silver tray nearby, 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 collected his thoughts and instinctively touched 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 grown over. 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 circular jade protective pendant had snapped and shattered into eight pieces under the leopard’s immense strength. Somehow, after waking up, it was hanging perfectly fine around his neck again.

He didn't know when he had developed the habit of touching it whenever he had nothing to do, as if this object had some indescribable 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 called out to the floor below: "The Young Master is awake, continue!"

The operas popular in the Yuan Kingdom were short and fast-paced, seeking novelty and innovation, often diving straight into the theme without long, drawn-out singing, so young people liked them as well, 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 part was an intense martial arts scene, and Liu Baobao, fearing it would disturb his sweet dream, had called for a pause.

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

The sound of strings and bamboo instruments rose from below, and a clear, cold male voice sang: "It is said that the Golden Bull, the guardian beast released by the Western Luo Kingdom, was invincible—"

He Lingchuan frowned.

This play again?

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

Liu Baobao observed his expression and immediately smiled: "Brother Chuan doesn't like it?"

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

In fact, this was a special session added by Liu Baobao; he was the one paying, and even the actors were 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 this godforsaken Heishuicheng.

But the big boss of the whole house was this sleepy-eyed man, who added: "Next time, change to a different 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 it—you call it what you lack."

He Lingchuan squinted: "Oh, does Heishuicheng lack immortals?"

"Not at all, not at all, Heishuicheng has Lord He, that is enough!" Liu Baobao said quickly, "Immortals or whatever, those are ethereal things of legend that can only be written in storybooks. Who could possibly lack them?"

He quickly changed the subject: "Then shall we switch to Lord He’s 'Stabilizing the Blade Mountain'?"

"Fine." Since his own father’s name had been 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 scoffed in denial, "No!"

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

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

The famous actor’s skill was remarkable, and the audience below cheered one after another. He Lingchuan watched for a while, his gaze shifting to the curling smoke from the incense burner, and he couldn't help but drift off again.

In truth, 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 had been working a mediocre job at a mediocre unit, earning a mediocre salary. As a hot-blooded youth, he often felt dissatisfied, but no matter how impassioned or critical he was in private, once in front of others, he immediately had to act as if the years were peaceful and harmony was paramount.

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

It just so happened that with the economic downturn, his unit had been delaying wages for three months, but he couldn't boldly say, "I'm not doing this anymore, you guys can go to hell," and then walk away.

How did he get here?

It was hard to say. He only remembered wandering around the entrance of a restaurant that day, finally deciding to be kind and support the business of a small street-corner stall. After all, in the dead of winter, it wasn't easy for anyone braving the wind and cold to make a living.

"Boss, give me a pancake, extra scallions, extra sauce... no egg or meat... yes, none of that."

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 sped up.

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

He lunged forward in a dash and scooped up the girl...

Thought he got hit by the car? No, not at all.

He was completely unharmed, returned the child to the couple who rushed over, even lectured the kid a bit, telling her to "remember to watch the road" in the future, and then turned around.

Before he could take 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 in 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 emotional: "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 Commandery, Jinzhou, Yuan Kingdom.