Chapter 1: Deep Mountains, Ancient Tomb

North of Danzhou, Mount Zihui.

Lightning split the sky, pea-sized raindrops hammered the old tent, crackling.

Xie Jinhuan lay on his ground mat, head foggy, throat raw as if swallowed a blade, hoarse:

"Father… Father~~… Old Bastard?!"

"Where is he? Off to the magistrate's office?"

Xie Jinhuan called out to the servants and maids again—no response. Throat parched, he gritted his teeth, pushed himself up, and groped for the teapot.

But as his hand reached out, he froze.

Torrential rain poured down, shaking the tent fabric violently. A single candle hung at the tent entrance, illuminating several ground mats inside—and a corpse outside!

The corpse lay beside the dying fire, clothes torn, face caked in blood, an iron mace piercing his chest and pinning him to the ground.

The iron mace was pure silver, its rounded haft carved with beast motifs, inscribed with the words "Tiangang"—it was his weapon…

Shit, what the hell did I do?!

Xie Jinhuan jolted upright, glancing left and right—he realized he lay inside an unfamiliar tent, outside lay a dark, endless deep forest, he clutched a sword in hand, and his mansion, his bed, his sycophants—all gone.

What the hell place is this? Was I kidnapped?!

Xie Jinhuan was utterly bewildered; as his mind cleared, memories returned:

More than a decade ago, he was reborn, born in Jingcheng of the Daqian Empire, father a Warden of Wanan County, mother long dead, only son…

A true man reborn—how could he submit to others? At three, he vowed to outwork every local native!

At sixteen, having accomplished nothing, he followed his father's transfer to Lingnan, where he encountered a demon along the way.

Then nothing.

The last image in Xie Jinhuan's memory was fleeing through the forest, chased by a demon.

The next instant, he lay here, a corpse before him.

What happened?

Didn't escape the demon—restarted again?

This won't do—I barely made it to puberty, haven't even tasted the salt and pepper of a rich lady's life…

Xie Jinhuan sensed something wrong, quickly raised his sword like a mirror, peered at his reflection by candlelight:

Good—he hadn't changed much. He was still himself.

But he was clearly more mature, and much taller…

Had years passed?

Xie Jinhuan frowned, racked his brain—could recall nothing recent, not even whether his father lived or died. He turned his gaze to the corpse outside, to assess his situation.

Whoosh…

Torrential rain washed the blood from the corpse's face—the pale visage still bore traces of mortal terror, unfamiliar.

Blood seeped from beneath the corpse, slowly creeping toward a nearby cave entrance.

The entrance lay beneath a mound, resembling a "tomb"—but its interior had completely collapsed.

From the tent's furnishings, four people had camped here, at least three days. His clothes were clean—he must be an outsider.

Seeing this, Xie Jinhuan could roughly deduce what happened:

This group were tomb robbers, digging here. He arrived mid-operation, conflict erupted, tomb collapsed—three buried inside, the old Taoist escaped, and he stabbed him dead at the cave mouth…

"But why did I come here?"

Xie Jinhuan felt like a drunk with amnesia—could recall nothing recent. Examining the surroundings, he realized the power displayed here wasn't his own.

To gain an edge from birth, Xie Jinhuan had worked hard even while sucking his pacifier—not just martial arts, but also qin, go, calligraphy, painting, astronomy, geography, demeanor, speech, physique…

His goal was to become a complete man—but learning everything meant mastering nothing.

Because other pursuits consumed too much time, he'd only barely reached Martial Path Rank 8 by sixteen.

His sole achievement: since childhood, he'd paid attention to his appearance and speech—handsome, well-dressed, pleasant voice. Every Lady who met him remembered him vividly—he was charging headlong toward the path of Liao Ai…

But from the scene's traces, he'd killed the old Taoist with a casual strike, barely exerting himself—his power now exceeded his former self by at least a hundredfold!

Did I fall into Laozi's alchemical furnace?

Xie Jinhuan felt primordial energy within him, strong enough to kill a female dragon—his confusion deepened.

Unable to recall why, he rummaged through the tent, searching for clues.

What he found clarified his situation—but also revealed something terrifying!

Besides gear and tools, the tent held scattered texts and a disciple's tomb-robbing journal.

According to the journal, the current year was Jingning Eighth Year, autumn—he was nineteen and a half, three years since his father's transfer to Lingnan.

Their location was no longer the wild southern frontier, but Danzhou, only a hundred li from Jingzhao Prefecture.

As he turned to the journal's latest entry, crooked handwriting came into view:

August 5: Master sought dragon veins and buried sites, discovered a grand tomb behind Mount Zihui. Master suspects it's where True Person Qixia entered her death-sleep—inside must be cultivation techniques and priceless treasures…

August 8: Today we broke ground, reached the tomb gate. A Daoist seal marked it—like a demon-sealing talisman. Master says it prevented Qixia from falling into demonic madness during her seclusion…

August 9: Dreamed. Met a red-clad female demon—big breasts, fat ass. I felt she liked me. Too bad Master slapped me awake—back to digging.

August 9 night: Tomb gate finally opened. Many female burial goods inside. In the center: the demon-sealing coffin. Above it, impaled, was the Zhenglun Sword—lost for a hundred years on Mount Zihui. Definitely a treasure. Must find a way to pull it out…

Record ends here.

"Demon-sealing coffin, red-clad female demon, Zhenglun Sword…"

Xie Jinhuan had known since childhood that the Daqian Empire teemed with demons and monsters. Seeing these terms now, his heart lurched—he glanced at the sword in his hand:

The sword was three chi three cun long, entirely ink-blue, inscribed with the words "Zhenglun"…

Wasn't that the sword from the demon-sealing coffin?

Xie Jinhuan realized with dread!

This sword appearing in his hand, barring unexpected circumstances, means this band of tomb-raiders who fear no death has already opened the Demon-Suppressing Coffin and released that red-robed female demon.

He ran here for no apparent reason, perhaps wanting to stop the tomb-raiders from courting death, but failed and was injured by the demon, causing him to forget his recent experiences.

The incident happened just now; if it truly was the female demon emerging from the coffin that created the current situation, then the demon might still be right in front...

At this thought, Xie Jinhuan's heart grew half cold, and he cautiously looked around.

At this very moment, an unknown disturbance came from outside the tent:

Scr~ Scr~

The sound seemed to be an unknown creature tearing at meat.

Xie Jinhuan's face changed abruptly, and he quickly held his sword pointing toward the tent entrance.

Crack—

At this very moment, Lei Guang flashing across the sky briefly illuminated the camp outside the tent.

Under the pouring rain, the bonfire had completely extinguished; the originally charred roasted rabbit was dragged aside, where a black shadow was bowing its head to peck at it.

The shadow's fur was as black as ink, just like Meiqiu, with only amber eyes reflecting a ghostly glow under the Lei Guang, like two points of ghost fire floating outside the tent.

Xie Jinhuan examined it carefully, feeling the shadow was very familiar, and tried calling out:

"Meiqiu?"

"Goo-ji?"

The black eagle pecking at the roasted rabbit froze in its movement upon hearing the sound.

Perhaps fearing being caught by its master for stealing food and getting scolded, it quietly put the roasted rabbit back in its original place, then squatted in the rain, pretending to look serious while standing guard.

Xie Jinhuan's soul was half scared out of his body; seeing this scene, he almost swore.

The black eagle named Meiqiu was a personal servant Xie Jinhuan bought for half a string of coins from the Bird and Flower Street in Jingcheng.

The merchant claimed it was a 'Black-Winged Great Peng', a divine beast bloodline, whose wingspan could reach a thousand zhang upon adulthood, feeding on dragons.

As a result, after Xie Jinhuan carefully tended to it, he successfully raised a 'Black-Winged Great Fatty', one chi tall and one chi around the waist, who loved eating 'Mushroom Stewed Flying Dragon' the most.

Fortunately, the unscrupulous merchant wasn't shameless enough to dye a pheasant to deceive people; Meiqiu was indeed quite spiritual, could understand human speech, and never lied unless it concerned eating.

Xie Jinhuan, at this moment, couldn't bother to tidy up his personal servant; he raised his sword, came to the front, and asked:

"Did you see the demon?"

"Gu?"

Meiqiu looked around in all directions, quite bewildered.

Seeing this appearance, Xie Jinhuan knew it hadn't seen anything.

But judging from the tomb-raiding notes, the red-robed female demon had most likely already emerged from the coffin!

His memory was fragmented, completely unable to grasp the current situation; he dared not stay long here, quickly pulled the Tian Gang Jian from the corpse's body, and held the Demon-Suppressing Treasure Sword as a protective charm:

"Let's go quickly; this place has spirits."

"Gu~"

Meiqiu was extremely obedient; seeing this, it picked up the roasted rabbit from beside the bonfire, flapped its wings, hopped along behind, and disappeared into the boundless rainy night.

And as the one person and one bird left, the camp fell silent, and the gloomy atmosphere of the mountains and fields gradually dissipated.

It seemed some formless thing also left the deep mountains and ancient tomb along with Xie Jinhuan...

(End of this chapter)