The rushing sound of water filled Li Xun's ears as he held his breath and slowly sank into the cool depths of the pool. When his head submerged completely, the murmurs of kids by the shore seemed to fracture, fading into the distance as if carried ten miles away by the currents.
The silent depths were an ideal place for contemplation. His body drifted downward until he reached the bottom, a dozen zhang below the surface. There, his fingers brushed against two iron buckets before he settled cross-legged beside them.
Here, light had nearly vanished, as if the universe had dissolved until only he remained. Only the rhythmic pulse of currents reminded him this space wasn't his alone.
From the moment he began to sit, Li Xun let his mind revisit the conversation he'd had with Shan Zhi. Every word, every glance, played again in his thoughts as he quietly searched for anything out of place.
But the memory passed in but a breath's time. A quiet smile curled across his lips, silent and bitter, like a dark hollow opening in his face, exhaling cold and shadow. It was the kind of honest smile a man saves for when there is no one else around.
This Shan Zhi… still naive, he mused. He likely won't change his nature for a few more years—still useful. Never mind the robe or the pills—if I can get him to vouch for me before the sect, that's the key. Time isn't on my side. These ten years will vanish in a blink. And if I fail…
A shudder wracked his body, and he clutched his chest with both hands.
Perhaps reacting to some unseen trigger, his heart suddenly convulsed before beginning to race wildly, its rhythm far beyond that of a normal person.
The blood, as if driven by this pressure, raged violently through his veins. A sudden rush of heat scorched him from within. He felt like he was being roasted alive.
The temperature kept rising, as though a fire had ignited—one burning from the deepest recesses of his body. Wherever the heat passed, muscles, bones, blood vessels, and meridians twisted and warped under this eerie force.
Agony seared him like red-hot needles stabbing into every nerve.
He curled up but couldn't make a sound—the pain had drained the last vestige of strength from his body, leaving him unable to even open his mouth.
The torment lasted ten breaths before vanishing like a nightmare. Only the lingering hypersensitivity of his skin, prickling under the water's flow, proved it hadn't been just some illusion.
In just these ten breaths' time, his internal energy had already become chaotic, and he had no idea how much water he had choked on. Fortunately, his cultivation had reached a certain foundation by now. Gritting through exhaustion and mental turmoil caused by the intense pain, and with great effort, wrestled his internal energy back under control, finally managing to return to a state of breath-holding.
Today lasted one breath longer.
Once recovered, Li Xun's hands and feet trembled as he cursed hatefully:
Blood Wanderer's Blood Nightmare is truly sinister and cruel! You old bastard, I, Li Xun, won't let this go. One day, I'll make you suffer this pain tenfold—no, a hundredfold!
He gnashed his teeth, spewing venomous oaths, but deep down, he knew they were just empty words. If he really faced Blood Wanderer, one of the Three Great Wanderers of the Tongxuan Realm, what could he do besides kowtowing and begging for mercy?
After enduring such torment, his thoughts were scattered. He simply closed his eyes, letting his inner energy circulate naturally to sustain his vitality as he drifted into a hazy half-sleep.
If any accomplished cultivator were present at this moment and witnessed the current scene, they would undoubtedly be astonished by the boy's cultivation. It is clearly evident that he had already reached the minor achievement stage of Qi Follows Will, Flowing Ceaselessly!
It was precisely because of this that he could maintain his inner breath as naturally as his outer breath even while asleep, far surpassing the progress of ordinary people.
Li Xun himself vaguely sensed how rare and valuable this state was. But even at such a young age, he was already cautious and calculating—unless absolutely necessary, he would never reveal his true capabilities.
In his sleep, his thoughts were scattered. Fragments of consciousness surged up one after another. In his confusion, he saw a vast sea of blood-red clouds rushing toward him, filled with eerie, shrill whispers. Just as they reached him, they suddenly morphed into a gigantic face
The face was covered in bristling, needle-like whiskers, its eyes swirling with bloody light, demonic and terrifying. It suddenly grinned and spoke in a booming voice:
"How was the taste of Blood Nightmare? And what of the Lingxi Art? Hand it over! If you don't deliver it within ten years, the Blood Nightmare will erase your consciousness, replace it, and shatter your soul, leaving you eternally damned!
"For these ten years, the Blood Nightmare will devour you daily, ensuring you never forget—your life is in my hands. I decide whether you live or die!
"Don't even think of begging for help. The Blood Nightmare is rooted in your heart, entwined with your soul. Apart from my Heart-Transforming Art, no one can undo it!
"Even if all the True Ones of the world gathered, they couldn't save you! AH HA HA HA HA..."
Amidst the mad laughter, heaven and earth seemed to shake.
Li Xun let out a cry and jolted awake. The inner breath flow broke all of a sudden, and he choked hard on the water.
He hurriedly tried to regulate his breath and realized his body had recovered—and was in even better condition than before. He let out a sigh of relief, though he felt no joy at all.
He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he didn't dare linger underwater. Grabbing the two iron buckets, he swiftly swam up. Within just a couple of seconds, he broke through the surface.
The shore was strangely quiet. Looking around, he saw Ling Ji winking at him, and all the other boys had already left.
Beside Ling Ji stood a middle-aged Daoist priest in robes, his face as pale as jade, his posture elegant and dignified, exuding an air of transcendent pride. Stroking his beard, he gazed at Li Xun with an inscrutable expression.
Li Xun shuddered. The man's eyes shimmered with a piercing, mysterious light. Meeting that gaze felt like icy water pouring over his head, the chill rushing from his crown straight to his dantian, disrupting his inner energy and nearly making him lose control of his breath. Even choking underwater hadn't been as unbearable as facing those eyes.
The Daoist gave a soft hum, the light in his eyes faded, and he nodded slightly. "Your inner energy is stable, your foundation solid. It seems you've put in the effort."
Only then did Li Xun have the strength to get a proper look at the man. At first glance, he looked familiar. At the second glance, Li Xun's eyes widened in shock and he blurted out:
"Immortal Master Qingxu!"
This middle-aged Daoist was none other than True Person Qingxu — a peer of the sect leader, Qingming, and one of the most esteemed figures in the Tongxuan Realm. Within the sect, his status ranked just beneath that of Qingming himself.
Qingxu was known for being strict and aloof. To receive even a single word of praise from him was an unexpected honor. How could Li Xun dare show any disrespect? He quickly swam ashore, set down the iron buckets, and respectfully bowed.
"Greetings, Immortal Master. Disciple Li Xun pays his respects."
Immortal Qingxu gave an acknowledging hum and signaled for him to rise. After scrutinizing him for a moment, the immortal frowned slightly and murmured, "He looks quite like him..."
Li Xun and Ling Ji couldn't quite catch the words but dared not lift their heads without permission, so they remained bowed in silence.
Qingxu was silent for a while, then ordered Li Xun to raise his head. Nervously, Li Xun quietly took two deep breaths before slowly lifting his gaze. As their eyes met, a sudden chill ran through him.
Though Qingxu's face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as frost and snow. The very air around him seemed to ripple with a chilly aura that clung to Li Xun's skin and seeped into his bones.
With guilt in his heart, Li Xun couldn't help feeling uneasy no matter how calm he appeared on the outside. Instinctively, he averted his gaze, but from the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting, icy smirk tug at Qingxu's lips—gone in an instant.
Li Xun's heart sank. He hurriedly looked back, but Qingxu no longer looked at him. Instead, he turned to Lingji. "You have a pure heart," he said. "That's good. In a few months, you'll be doing your 'Opening the Mountain Trial'. Remember to strengthen your will and don't entertain thoughts of shortcuts or luck. Just take things step by step."
Ling ji mumbled a response, not knowing what to say. But Li Xun, standing nearby, felt a jolt in his heart. He felt like most of what Qingxu said was aimed at him—about strengthening the will, about not relying on shortcuts and luck—every word seemed to carry a hidden meaning. Could Qingxu have noticed something?
This thought made his heart race uncontrollably. No matter how he tried, he couldn't calm it down. Qingxu seemed to notice it all. He glanced at Li Xun, and that one glance made Li Xun feel numb all over.
At this point, even a fool could see that Qingxu was already suspicious of him. Being watched like this by such a high-ranking elder, Li Xun felt like dying. What troubled him more was that he still had no idea where he had given himself away.
He was still young, after all. Faced with a future so uncertain and a fate hanging in the balance, he nearly broke down in tears, holding on only through sheer stubbornness. Through his blurred vision, he noticed a subtle shift in Qingxu's expression—something softer, less cold than before.
Could there be another reason? Li Xun wondered.
In that fleeting moment, almost instinctively, Li Xun adjusted his facial expression—his lips drooped ever so slightly, and his cheeks subtly tensed—mimicking the stubborn and aggrieved expression of a child.
The brilliance lay in how faint the expression was—barely two or three parts revealed. Not too much, not too little. Just right. And it seemed entirely genuine.
It was a remarkably delicate shift, and Lingji, standing nearby, couldn't grasp the subtle transformation. He only sensed that the atmosphere had somehow changed. Honest by nature, he nonetheless felt uneasy under the weight of it. He looked up and saw Qingxu's brows faintly furrowed.
Seeing Li Xun's expression, Qingxu suddenly felt that perhaps his own attitude just now had been inappropriate. There were so many people in the world who looked alike; he couldn't let his disdain for that person spill onto this boy. That single thought gave rise to a flicker of guilt.
But then another thought followed: this child might be a bit too clever. All it took was the slightest hint of aloofness on his part, and the boy picked up on it immediately. His earlier reading of the situation had been spot-on. Truly worthy of someone from an imperial lineage...
A tangle of thoughts churned in Qingxu's mind, and the face of someone he hadn't seen in a long time resurfaced. To his own surprise, a sense of agitation he hadn't felt in centuries began to stir. Looking at Li Xun again, he finally spoke:
"Li Xun."
"Disciple is here!"
Li Xun's reply was noticeably subdued, and Qingxu caught it easily. But he paid it no mind and continued, "I ask you this: On the path of cultivation, fortune, wisdom, and innate talent—none can be lacking. Do you understand?"
"Disciple understands," Li Xun replied carefully,
"Then tell me, which of the three comes first?"
"Fortune! Fortune is the gateway to the immortal path."
Qingxu nodded. "Correct. But since you're already here, it means fortune is present. Between the other two, which takes precedence?"
Li Xun opened his mouth to answer, then froze. He had been about to say "wisdom," but sensed that this Immortal Qingxu didn't much appreciate his intricate scheming. Saying it out loud might just make things worse. But to say "innate talent" instead would be dishonest—and there was no guarantee Qingxu wouldn't see through it.
For a moment, he was caught in a bind. And in that split second of hesitation, a realization struck him like a bolt—damn it!
The question had a straightforward answer: fortune first, wisdom second, talent third. In this context, "wisdom" referred not to cunning but to perception, perseverance, and other such qualities. Any junior disciple could recite this without a second thought.
If he had truly been simple and pure-hearted, the answer would've come out effortlessly. But because he overthought it, hesitated in the moment, and missed his chance, Qingxu likely saw through him completely. At this point, saying anything would only make things worse.
Frustrated with himself, Li Xun silently cursed his own poor judgment. He was stunned and panicked, left speechless on the spot.
Qingxu saw all this clearly. With a helpless shake of the head, he let out a long sigh:
"Blessings and misfortunes do not come uninvited—they are summoned by one's own actions."
Li Xun wanted to speak, but under the gaze of Qingxu, he felt utterly transparent. It was as if every thought in his heart had already been laid bare. In that instant, all his strength left him. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees, stammering:
"Disciple… disciple…"
Qingxu's voice turned cold: "Are you still clinging to luck? Still trying to claim you just couldn't think of the answer?"
"Disciple admits his mistake… I shouldn't have tried to scheme…"
Qingxu's expression softened a little, but then he caught a familiar look on Li Xun's face, and his heart tightened once more.
So alike… judging character by the face—these two share not only appearance but perhaps temperament as well. I mustn't raise another wolf cub…
His mind made up, his expression darkened again:
"So young, yet already playing mind games with your elders? That kind of thinking has already veered off the righteous path. Even if you cultivate the Dao, you'll only fall into the demonic way. What are you still doing here?"
As those words fell, it struck Li Xun like a thunderclap. His mind went blank, his body went limp, and he collapsed to the ground, sobbing: "Immortal Master, have mercy! Have mercy!"
Lingji, standing to the side, was completely bewildered. They had exchanged only a few odd-sounding words, yet somehow Junior Brother Xun was now crying like his world had ended.
What kind of twisted logic is this?
Qingxu's tone softened slightly:
"You came from wealth, and you'll return to wealth—isn't that far better than the lot of most? why must you behave like this?"
Li Xun didn't say a word—he just kept kowtowing like mad. In that moment, all schemes and cleverness were gone from his heart. Each bow was genuine and heavy. After just a few, the pebbles by the poolside had already split his forehead open, and blood began to pour down his face.
Ling Ji was completely stunned. Trembling all over, he dropped to his knees too, driven by pure loyalty, though his face still showed nothing but confusion.
Qingxu watched Li Xun's actions without the slightest change in expression. Though he did feel some pity for such a gifted child, a thousand years of cultivation had taught him to never act on fleeting emotions. In fact, Li Xun's reaction only further confirmed his decision.
He sighed, "If the scheming mind is not eliminated, it becomes a seed of inner demons. Even with the guidance of moral teachings, one may not be able to stay on the right path. You are indeed a rare talent, but alas…"
Though his tone sounded gentle and regretful, there was a finality in it that brooked no argument.
By now, Li Xun's mind was utterly blank. He just kept bowing, without pause, without softening his force. Even when his skin tore open and the bone beneath showed, he didn't stop.
Qingxu watched for a moment, then shook his head slightly. With a wave of his sleeve, a subtle burst of force blocked Li Xun's self-destructive motion. Li Xun's body gave out, and he collapsed where he knelt.
Seeing him slump to the ground, Qingxu turned to leave. But after a few steps, he suddenly spoke again: "You still have a heart for the Great Dao. I don't wish to force you. I'll grant you one more year. Use it to temper your body and still your thoughts. Even if you return to the mortal realm, you can still serve the people on the court and bring benefit to all under heaven. Make good use of it."
As Li Xun stared at him in despair, Qingxu's figure faded away like a bubble popping in the air—silent, illusory, and gone without a trace.
How he wished that everything that had just happened was also nothing more than a dream...
It had only been three months since he entered the mountains, and due to a sudden, unexpected encounter, Li Xun had already lost his chance to pursue the immortal path.
And from here on, his life would be mercilessly devoured by Blood Nightmare.
Lingji's eyes widened as he watched Li Xun collapse, drained of all strength, his body still trembling. Large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking the dirt beside the pool.
The sight gave Lingji a fright. He rushed forward to help him up, only to find Li Xun's face pale as a corpse, and his eyes full of lifeless gray—it was the look of utter despair.
"Brother Xun! What's wrong with you? Don't scare me like this! What happened just now? Why did Immortal Qingxu drive you out? What was all that about?"
But Li Xun no longer had the heart to respond. With a sudden jerk of his arm, he shoved Lingji aside. He staggered to his feet, took two steps, and then, as the world spun around him, his vision went black and he collapsed again.
Faintly, he could hear Lingji's panicked cries in his ear.
A bitter taste welled up from deep within his chest, surged to his throat. He let out a long sigh—and passed out completely.
******
Night had fallen. After the long day's turmoil, Lingji had already drifted into an exhausted sleep. Li Xun, however, slowly regained consciousness.
After sleeping off the worst of it, his mind remained clouded. He lay there with his eyes open, dazed for a long time before the memories of what had happened returned to him.
Maybe because he'd already been wrecked once before, Li Xun didn't feel the same raging storm of emotions he had earlier. But that heavy, suffocating gloom kept building up inside him, slow and steady, until the despair felt like waves crashing down, one after another—each worse than the last. He could barely breathe under the weight of it all.
He lay on his back, his mind a murky haze. But as time passed, the chaos in his thoughts slowly cleared, leaving only the sharpest—and most terrifying—images behind.
Just four months ago, he was still the most doted-on young master in Prince Fu's household. Aside from the petty schemes during his daily studies at the palace and his father's strict lessons back home, his life had been smooth, untouched by hardship.
Then, like a god of slaughter descending from the heavens, a man had seized him and, without explanation, demanded he become his disciple.
"Why should I bow to you as my master?" the eight-year-old Li Xun asked. He carried himself with a composure far beyond his years. Though fear coiled in his chest at the sight of the menacing red-robed giant, his face remained cool, his tone steady—unlike any ordinary child.
The red-robed giant—none other than Blood Wanderer, one of the Three Great Wanderers—threw back his head and laughed. "Since when does taking a disciple need reasons?"
Li Xun's voice was icy. "The Fu Manor may not be grand, but it's guarded by a thousand soldiers. No one waltzes in uninvited, much less forces discipleship on its heirs. If you're so capable, brute, why not apply as a guard? You'd have chances to teach me martial arts properly—instead of skulking like a common thief!"
Blood Wanderer roared with laughter. "Who said I'd teach you martial arts? If not for your... usefulness, boy, your insolence alone would earn this manor a river of blood—with you drowning in it for three days before death took you!"
"How dare you!" Li Xun paled, outrage warring with terror. "This is treason!"
"Fool!"
The Blood Wanderer slapped the overconfident Li Xun to the ground. With another motion, he pulled at the air, and blood-red light flowed between his fingers like living serpents, twisting in midair with a stench that made one's stomach churn.
Li Xun turned deathly pale. Just as he opened his mouth to scream for help, the Blood Wanderer struck his chest with a palm, forcing the blood light into his body.
In the next instant, an excruciating pain like his heart was being gnawed from the inside tore through him. It drained the last ounce of strength from his small frame. Though the agony lasted no more than two breaths, it was enough to make the eight-year-old child soil himself, tears and snot pouring down uncontrollably.
When it was over, the Blood Wanderer chuckled and asked, "How does my Blood Nightmare taste?"
The pain had passed, but Li Xun couldn't muster even the tiniest bit of strength. He just lay there, weeping in soft sobs. The sound annoyed the Blood Wanderer, who kicked him hard in the stomach and barked, "Shut your mouth and listen to your master speak…"
And just like that, the esteemed young heir of the Prince Fu's estate became the disciple of the Blood Wanderer of the Tongxuan Realm. But the Blood Wanderer taught him no cultivation at all—each day, all he did was force Li Xun to endure the agony of the blood nightmare.
Several days later, the Blood Wanderer disguised himself as a wandering Daoist and easily fooled Prince Fu. He even schemed to lure disciples from the Mingxin Sword Sect. Everything was orchestrated to perfection, and Li Xun, despite his unwillingness and fear, was dragged along to Lianxia Mountain.
Only after mingling with the other mountain disciples and overhearing occasional talk about the secrets of the Tongxuan Realm did he come to understand just what kind of monster he had fallen into the hands of.
In the Tongxuan Realm, there were cultivators who did not come from sects. Instead, they pursue the path of immortality on their own, or they have defected from their sects and are no longer under any authority. These people form a group known as rogue cultivators.
Among the rogue cultivators, a few figures stood above the rest—feared and respected across the realm. The infamous Three Great Wanderers were such people.
And the Blood Wanderer was one of the three. He was a murderous demon whose hands were soaked in sin. His Blood Demon Heart Transformation Art had reached perfection. Even among the top cultivators of the Tongxuan Realm, he was a force to be reckoned with.
His fearsome reputation chilled the bones of all who heard his name.
Ever since Li Xun realized who he'd been caught by, all hopes of resistance withered. Instead, he began planning how to acquire the Lingxi Art—a secret technique that might be his only way out.
At first, he didn't know how difficult it would be to obtain the Lingxi Art. Fearful of revealing his motives, he dared not ask around, and could only focus on refining his Qi quietly, hoping that one day, some immortal master might take notice of him.
Yet fate had other plans. On the very first day he arrived at the mountain, his servant ended up being accepted directly into the sect's inner circle—while he was assigned to draw water and meditate alongside the lowest-ranked disciples. And so three months passed.
To this day, he had heard no trace of the Lingxi Art. And now, due to a single unexpected event, Immortal Qingxu had declared his cultivation path forever severed. Even with his iron will, the weight of it was almost unbearable.
Is there really no way left? Li Xun thought bitterly. His nose stung, and to his surprise, tears began to fall.
It was the most sorrowful cry of his life. Even the wailing from earlier that day hadn't hurt this much.
As the eldest grandson of Prince Fu, he was destined to inherit the title one day. Thus, under his father's strict — nearly ruthless — methods of upbringing, Li Xun had become deeply calculating at a young age. He kept his emotions hidden and mastered the art of disguise.
When attending court as a companion reader, he would always present a cheerful and innocent face. But upon returning home, he was required to write a detailed journal reflecting on his time in the palace — recording observations, analyzing what he saw, and offering critiques and strategies — all of which would be reviewed and approved by his father.
In such an environment, though only eight years old, he had already come to understand the dirtiest philosophies of survival. His mental maturity far outstripped his appearance. If things continued this way, Li Xun would surely surpass his predecessors and enjoy a life of glory.
But all of that had been shattered the day the Blood Wanderer appeared…
It wasn't until Li Xun set foot on that immortal mountain that he truly understood—he was still just an eight-year-old kid. And in this world, it wasn't just cunning and calculations that decided.
There were beings like Blood Wanderer, completely beyond anything he could plan for. And then there was Master Qingxu, whose piercing gaze seemed to pierce through every hidden corner of his heart.
Before such people, what Li Xun could do but move along under their control, like a puppet on strings, step by step, until the day death came for him.
"Is that all that's left—just waiting to die?" he whispered through quiet sobs. "But… I don't want to die!"