Chapter 1: Desert Pursuit

The desert stretched endlessly.

Wind whipped up dust from the gravel, obscuring the blood-red sun, now reduced to a faint arc on the horizon.

A few stunted trees swayed their withered branches in the sandstorm.

Night fell, and the desert grew even more desolate and bleak.

Licking his cracked lips, Xia Daoming gazed at the abandoned village ahead, standing alone in the desert as he did, and decided to spend the night there, setting out again at dawn.

During the day, the desert’s greatest torment was the sun, blazing relentlessly overhead, scorching the body, and the boundless, endless expanse of exposed rock and sand.

It inevitably bred despair.

But it was relatively safe.

At night, the desert brought biting cold winds and countless unknown dangers.

Packs of wolves roamed seeking prey; venomous rattlesnakes, scorpions, and eight-legged sand spiders emerged silently from beneath the earth.

Most of the houses in this nameless desert village had collapsed, leaving only broken walls and rubble.

At the village center stood a dilapidated ancient well, but its water had long dried up.

No sign of life remained—only yellow sand, withered vegetation, and bones half-buried in the dunes.

The wind echoed through the empty, ruined village.

Desolate.

Silent.

“Bang!”

Xia Daoming gently pushed the rotting wooden door—it crashed down, kicking up thick clouds of dust.

Before him lay a skeleton slumped over a table.

On the ground lay another skeleton, seemingly that of a child.

Xia Daoming glanced once, then quickly retreated from the ruined house.

After searching the entire village and confirming no danger remained, Xia Daoming chose his lodging for the night.

A room with a partial roof and four crumbling walls.

Xia Daoming tidied the room, sprinkled insect- and snake-repelling powder around its interior, then went outside to scatter thorns, and stretched several strands of ice-silk thread, tying one end to his finger.

Once all this was done, Xia Daoming sat down and pulled a simple wooden box from his robe.

As soon as he opened it, a fragrant scent filled the air.

Inside lay a five-inch-long, one-inch-thick, dark-purple object shaped like a ginseng root, marked with dragon-scale patterns, and clearly bearing signs of being gnawed.

Xia Daoming pulled it out and bit into it like a radish, taking two large bites.

A milky-white sap oozed from the bitten flesh, releasing waves of fragrance.

Xia Daoming licked clean the sap from the bite marks, returned the object to the box, and tucked it safely against his body.

Then, Xia Daoming sat cross-legged and activated the “Dragon-Snake Scripture.”

After a long while, in the darkness, Xia Daoming slowly opened his eyes.

A simple interface appeared in his mind.

Xia Daoming—

Cultivation Base: Fourth-Rank Martial Master

Level One Meridian Strengthening Progress: Zero Percent.

“Finally broke through to Fourth-Rank Martial Master!”

A flash of delight lit Xia Daoming’s eyes.

A year ago, an accident caused Xia Daoming to reincarnate into this young body bearing his own name, becoming a Second-Rank Martial Master at the Black Stone City Dragon-Snake Martial Hall.

The human body has twelve regular meridians, connecting the internal organs.

A Martial Master’s rank corresponds to these twelve meridians, divided into twelve levels.

When qi flows through one meridian, one is a First-Rank Martial Master; when it flows through two, one is a Second-Rank Martial Master, and so on, up to the Twelfth Rank.

At that time, his mind gained not only the original owner’s memories but also a simple system interface.

The system’s function was as straightforward as its interface.

Strengthen the resilience and capacity of the meridians.

For each rank, if sufficient nourishing food was consumed, the system could continuously strengthen the meridians, up to Level Nine.

This meant that, theoretically, Xia Daoming’s qi at the same rank was nine times stronger than others’.

Amid his delight, Xia Daoming suddenly sensed danger.

He leapt to his feet, silent as a cat, slipping quietly behind the door.

Through the crack, Xia Daoming saw six men and a wolf-hound sprinting toward his room under the moonlight.

As they ran, they spread out, forming a loose arc that encircled the house.

The wolf-hound’s fur shimmered with faint crimson glimmers in the moonlight.

“The Blood Wolf Hound lives up to its name—I fled for twelve days, yet still couldn’t escape its tracking!” Xia Daoming’s eyes narrowed, a flash of killing intent flickering.

The Blood Wolf Hound not only tracked better than any wolf-dog but was also fiercely aggressive.

A full-grown Blood Wolf Hound’s combat power rivaled that of a Second-Rank Martial Master.

“Xia Daoming, come out! We know you’re inside!” The six men and the hound halted three to four zhang away. One of them, a one-eyed man with a pockmarked face, called out.

“Woof! Woof! Woof!” Before he finished speaking, the Blood Wolf Hound bared its jagged fangs and roared at the house.

“Since the Blood Wolf Guards and the Blood Wolf Hound are here, why doesn’t Master Wei show himself? Afraid I’ll assassinate you?” Xia Daoming called out.

The Blood Wolf Hall was one of the gangs in Black Stone City.

Its master, Wei Mao, was a Fourth-Rank Martial Master, with six Blood Wolf Guards under him—the top three were Third-Rank Martial Masters, the bottom three Second-Rank.

Black Stone City was a small town in the northern reaches of Mangzhou, Great Liang.

A month ago, Qiu Zhiheng, the head of the Dragon-Snake Martial Hall and Xia Daoming’s master, accidentally discovered a hundred-year Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng outside the city, on Black Dragon Mountain.

A hundred-year Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng was a potent tonic for martial artists, boosting cultivation and aiding breakthroughs.

But its potency was fierce. Though Qiu Zhiheng was a Fourth-Rank Martial Master, he was nearing sixty, his organs gradually decaying. He dared not consume much, only shaving off a sliver daily.

Even so, his decaying organs began to show signs of recovery. Had he consumed the entire ginseng, he might have reversed his decline and, at sixty, broken through to Fifth-Rank Martial Master.

But Qiu Zhiheng’s joy turned to tragedy—his secret was inadvertently revealed to Wei Mao, master of the Blood Wolf Hall.

Twelve days ago, on a dark, windy night, Wei Mao, accompanied by his brother Wei Chan and son Wei Mo, along with many skilled fighters, launched a night raid on the Dragon-Snake Martial Hall.

Qiu Zhiheng, old and out of practice, was swiftly overwhelmed by three peers and numerous fighters. He was killed by Wei Chan, who seized the Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng.

But Wei Chan was gravely wounded in Qiu Zhiheng’s final counterattack.

Xia Daoming seized the chance to assassinate the wounded Wei Chan and escaped Black Stone City with the ginseng.

Wei Mao had almost claimed the prize—only to see a Second-Rank Martial Master suddenly appear, kill his brother, and steal the ginseng.

Enraged, Wei Mao nearly lost his mind. He left his son Wei Mo to hold the Blood Wolf Hall in Black Stone City and set out with his six Blood Wolf Guards and the Blood Wolf Hound to hunt Xia Daoming down.

Had Xia Daoming been an ordinary Second-Rank Martial Master, he would have been caught and killed long ago.

But he was a reincarnator with a system. Though still a Second-Rank Martial Master, his meridians had been strengthened to Level Six—he could fight seven or eight Second-Rank Martial Masters alone.

Normally, a Third-Rank Martial Master could handle only three Second-Rank ones.

Moreover, due to the system, his ability to absorb and convert the ginseng’s potency far exceeded Qiu Zhiheng’s.

And as his meridians strengthened, so did his capacity to absorb and convert the potency.

As he fled, Xia Daoming seized every opportunity to consume the Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng.

In just twelve days, he was not only untouched but, fueled by the ginseng’s power, completed nine Level Nine meridian strengthenings at Second Rank, then broke through to Third Rank, and repeatedly strengthened his meridians during brief respites.

Tonight, he seized another chance—completing the nine Level Nine strengthenings at Third Rank and breaking through to Fourth-Rank Martial Master.

Though newly arrived at Fourth Rank, with nine Level Nine strengthenings from Third Rank, his qi strength now exceeded that of a typical Third-Rank Martial Master by more than tenfold.

A normal Fourth-Rank Martial Master’s qi was only about three times that of a Third-Rank one.

Matching Wei Mao in rank but vastly surpassing him in total qi, Xia Daoming chose not to flee anymore—he would stay.

“You dared assassinate my brother and steal my prize—you truly have guts,” said a tall, thin man in crimson martial attire, with high cheekbones, sharp eyes, a hooked nose, a few wisps of goatee, and over fifty years of age. He stepped from behind a broken wall.

The man was Wei Mao, master of the Blood Wolf Hall!

“Wei Mao, you heartless scum! Master Qiu treated you as a friend, yet you slaughtered the Dragon-Snake Martial Hall for a single Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng!”

Seeing Wei Mao emerge from the shadows, Xia Daoming’s eyes blazed with killing intent—but he did not open the door, speaking from within.

“Boy, what if I did slaughter the Dragon-Snake Martial Hall? In this chaotic world, it’s the strong who devour the weak. Blame Qiu Zhiheng for lacking the strength to wield the Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng,” Wei Mao sneered.

“Do you think you’re strong enough to wield it?” Xia Daoming mocked.

“What do you mean by that?” Wei Mao’s expression darkened.

“I hold the Dragon-Scale Purple Blood Ginseng in my hand right now. If I choose to shatter it rather than let you have it… what then?” Xia Daoming smiled coldly.

“You dare!”

Before Xia Daoming finished speaking, Wei Mao’s face turned ashen. He stomped the ground, leapt over his six guards, and with a thunderous “Crash!” smashed through the already rotten wooden door.

Wood splinters flew, dust filled the room.

“Old man, you’ve fallen for it!”

Amid the swirling dust, Xia Daoming was airborne, his right leg whipping like an iron whip in a Dragon-Snake tail strike, aimed straight at Wei Mao’s head.

Wei Mao had expected to see Xia Daoming desperately swallowing or destroying the ginseng—instead, he faced a devastating kick. Shocked, he barely raised his arm to block!

“Bang!”

A powerful force slammed into Wei Mao’s arm, hurling him into the nearby earthen wall.

The wall trembled; the crumbling roof rained down rotting timber and dust upon him.

Wei Mao had no time to care about any of this—he stared in horror at the fist that had already appeared against his chest.

The fist curled five fingers inward halfway, palm hollowed, knuckles tightly pressed, the distal phalanges and back of the fist angled like a snake’s head.

“Boom!”

The snake-head fist slammed hard into Wei Mao’s chest.

Wei Mao’s chest instantly caved inward.

The wall behind him, struck by immense force, exploded with a “crash,” leaving a large hole as earth and stone flew in all directions.

Another punch followed instantly, striking hard.

Wei Mao flew out through the wall hole like a kite with its string cut.

When he hit the ground, he seemed to hear the sound of his own heart rupturing.

“How is this possible!” As he tumbled through the air, Wei Mao’s eyes bulged, fixed desperately on Xia Daoming, blood continuously gushing from his mouth.

He simply could not believe that a second-rank martial arts instructor, who had been like a stray dog just twelve days ago, had suddenly become this terrifyingly powerful!

“Master!”

Outside the room, six Blood Wolf Guards were about to rush in—when they saw Wei Mao crash through the wall and fall to the ground, their eyes widened in shock, cold dread crawling up their spines.

At that moment, a dark shadow—like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows—suddenly shot out from the swirling dust inside the room.