The northern region of the Nine-Star Continent was dominated by a vast stretch of dense, ancient forest—home to countless spirit beasts. The surrounding mountains remained lush and green throughout the year, and nestled in a quiet valley beyond them lay the stronghold of the Li Clan.
The Li Clan had a history stretching back nearly a hundred years. Though it began as a small and insignificant group, over the last two decades it had risen rapidly in prominence, becoming one of the most powerful clans in Green Cloud City.
The city itself was ruled by three major families—the Li, Yun, and Zhang Clans. While the Yun and Zhang had long held influence, the Li Clan's swift rise had pushed them into the shadows. With their wealth and growing reputation, the Li family now had their hands in many of the city's most lucrative trades.
Yet within the Li Clan's sprawling estate, there was one part that stood in isolation—a quiet valley, curiously silent, as if life had forgotten it.
And there, on the edge of the valley, stood a lone figure.
A young boy, motionless, his long black hair fluttering gently in the mountain breeze. His white robe danced with the wind, and the morning light fell across his face, illuminating sharp, ethereal features. His expression was calm, distant—his gaze lost in the far-off horizon.
Even the drifting leaves seemed to part around him, as if nature itself dared not disturb him. From a distance, it was like a scene from an immortal's painting—tranquil, otherworldly.
His name was Li Yang.
Though still young, his presence exuded a rare, silent maturity. He lifted his eyes to the darkening sky and frowned slightly.
"It's going to rain again. Hopefully not too heavily…"
He let out a quiet sigh and turned to return to his solitary residence in the center of the valley, when a sneering voice broke the silence behind him.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, Li Yang. Just because the clan ignores you doesn't mean you get to freeload forever."
Li Yang didn't turn. He simply frowned.
Another boy approached—about the same age, wearing an ornate black robe. His face was average, his demeanor arrogant, and his narrowed, calculating eyes gave him a slimy air. This was Li Zheng, one of the inner disciples of the clan, and a frequent thorn in Li Yang's side.
Li Yang said nothing, choosing instead to continue walking away.
That only enraged Li Zheng further.
"Hmph! Keep acting cold and proud. Just wait till I become the next Clan Head. I'll tear down that pathetic little shack of yours—and kick you out of the Li Clan like the stray dog you are!"
Li Yang stopped.
Smirking, Li Zheng taunted, "What? Gonna fight me now, cripple? You, who can't even circulate your spiritual energy?"
But something changed.
The boy turned slowly.
Li Yang's pitch-black eyes met Li Zheng's—and in that instant, the air itself turned to ice. The serene, detached aura was gone. What replaced it was suffocating. Cold. Merciless.
Li Zheng's breath caught in his throat. His limbs froze. Those eyes—sharp and still like frozen lakes—looked at him not with hatred, but complete disregard, like one might regard an insect about to be crushed beneath a boot.
He stumbled back two steps, suddenly breathless.
And then, just as quickly, the pressure vanished.
The breeze returned. The valley was silent again.
Li Yang narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice soft, but sharper than any blade.
"Li Zheng… don't provoke me again.""Or I'll make you vanish—so completely, it'll be as if you never existed."