Under the dim light of the horizon, the first rays of dawn broke through the sky. Mo Zhenyu lay still for a moment, his mind numb, his body aching. His father's lifeless form pressed against him, the spear still buried deep in his stomach. If not for his father, he would have died instantly.
With a grunt of effort, he rolled the corpse aside, gasping as pain shot through his abdomen. His fingers trembled as he pressed against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. The events of the night replayed in his mind—his mother's betrayal, his father's final words, and the revelation that shattered everything he had ever believed.
She had another family. A real husband. A real daughter. And for ten years, she had orchestrated this elaborate deception—all for the Celestial Artifact.
Mo Zhenyu let out a bitter laugh. Poor Mo Renyu… you were nothing but a pawn. His father had lived and died believing in a love that never existed, and yet… he had died with a smile, content that he had protected his son.
"Fool," Mo Zhenyu muttered, his gaze shifting to the horizon.
He was alone now.
Did he want revenge? Absolutely.
Would he live for revenge? No.
Hao Lan was nothing to him—no mother, no family, just another enemy. But he knew her well enough to be certain of one thing: if she ever discovered he was alive, she would come back to finish what she started. It was kill or be killed. And he owed it to his father to see it through.
What she didn't realize was that Mo Renyu had outplayed her.
Twice.
First, by using the Celestial Artifact to counteract the poison during her first attempt to kill him in the womb.
Second, by tricking her with a layered array painting, a worthless imitation of the true artifact. She would spend years trying to decipher its secrets, only to find nothing.
Because the truth was far crueler than she could imagine.
She had carried the real Celestial Artifact inside her for nine months. She had tried to destroy it, to carve it out of existence, never realizing that Mo Zhenyu was the artifact.
A sharp pulse of energy surged through his body, and he instinctively sent a sliver of astral force into his left eye. The response was immediate—his sealed iris split open, revealing a swirling, violet glow. The power coiled within him, dormant yet undeniable. This was what she had sought, what she had betrayed and killed for. And now, it belonged to him alone.
His father had known all along.
Why had he stayed? Why had he endured it, knowing the kind of woman she was? Had he been waiting for this moment, for Zhenyu to awaken? Or did he hope Hao Lan would come to love him eventually.
Mo Zhenyu exhaled sharply and shoved those thoughts aside. It didn't matter anymore.
He had five years before she realized the deception. Five years to become strong enough to kill her.
There was no time to waste.
He dragged his battered body back to their house, rummaging through their supplies until he found bandages and herbs to stop the bleeding. The pain was agonizing, but he gritted his teeth and wrapped the wound as best as he could.
Then, step by step, he made his way back to the cliff.
He had one final task to complete. With his bare hands, he began to dig his father's grave.
After burying his father, Mo Zhenyu stood at the edge of the cliff, the salty breeze stinging his wounds. He took one last look at the battlefield—at the lifeless bodies strewn across the land. They were nothing but remnants of a game he had never agreed to play.
He gathered what dry wood he could find, stacking the corpses into a pyre. With a flick of his fingers, a surge of astral energy ignited the pile, sending flames roaring into the sky. The fire crackled and burned, consuming the past, reducing it to ash.
Only when the last embers had faded did he turn away, making his way back to his father's office.
Inside, dust motes floated in the morning light, undisturbed by the chaos that had unfolded outside. He exhaled and channeled astral energy into his left eye. This time, he pushed harder, drawing deeper from the well of power within him. The world around him blurred, his vision twisting—until everything collapsed into darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was somewhere else.
The space stretched infinitely, an endless expanse that resembled both a workshop and a grand library. Towering bookshelves lined the invisible walls, overflowing with ancient scrolls and manuscripts. Floating talisman runes shimmered in the air—water, fire, air, earth, and lightning—each pulsing with primordial energy.
A sudden voice broke the silence.
"Boo!"
An old man materialized behind him, grinning mischievously, hoping to startle him.
Mo Zhenyu didn't flinch. His gaze remained steady as he turned to face the stranger.
"Who are you?" he asked coldly.
The old man sighed in disappointment. "This one's no fun…" He straightened his robes and folded his hands behind his back. "I am a sliver of consciousness from the previous owner of this artifact. I have waited thousands of years for the Heavenly Eye to find a new bearer."
He lifted his chin slightly, his presence radiating an ancient wisdom. "I am Celestian Hozan, a talisman master."
Mo Zhenyu hesitated for only a second before replying. "Mo Zhenyu. I am a… painter." The words came out hurriedly, unsteady.
The old man chuckled. "That won't matter for long." His expression turned solemn. "I don't have much time left now that you are here, so listen carefully."
He pointed at Mo Zhenyu's eye. "This is the Heavenly Eye, a celestial artifact—unique in this world. Every person who has possessed it has soared to higher realms." His voice deepened. "Its primary function is to strengthen your destined artifact and grant you the power of insight. You will come to understand its abilities in time."
Mo Zhenyu remained silent, absorbing every word.
"So far, three others have fused with the Heavenly Eye. Each left behind a small inheritance for the next successor." Hozan's gaze sharpened. "Since I was the last bearer, I leave you my inheritance—the Five Primordial Talismans. Master them, and you will be invincible."
His hand gestured toward the space beyond them. "On the second floor, you will find a spear technique. I never fully grasped its depths, but you may." His expression turned wistful. "On the third floor, there is a Dao library filled with forgotten knowledge. Study it well. This treasure is powerful, but if you lack strength, do not reveal it to the world."
Then, the old man's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Tell me—what is your guiding constellation? To obtain the Heavenly Eye, it must not be weak."
Mo Zhenyu exhaled and released his constellation. A magnificent Chromatic Owl emerged, its feathers shimmering in a spectrum of shifting colors, its eyes gleaming with untold wisdom.
Hozan froze. His mouth opened slightly, as if to speak, but no words came. Then, after a long pause, he smiled.
"…Good." His voice was softer now. "Very good."
His form began to flicker, fading into mist. "I wish you luck, young man."
With that, Celestian Hozan vanished, his consciousness dissolving into nothing.
A cold light surged through Mo Zhenyu's body, sending shivers down his spine. The energy pulsed, weaving through his nerves, mending what was broken. His left eye throbbed as the Heavenly Eye fully merged with him.
Mo Zhenyu clenched his fists.