The cry of a fisherman echoed faintly across the riverbank —
"Someone's drowning!"
Without a second thought, Fang Han dove into the water. He swam hard against the current and dragged the body ashore, panting as he laid it on the sand. But the moment he looked closer, his heart sank.
"No breath left… it's a corpse."
The drowned man's body was grotesquely swollen, the skin pale and bloated from long exposure to the water. A long scar ran across his chest, its edges blackened and charred.
"Struck by lightning?" Fang Han muttered. He'd seen a few lightning victims in the countryside before — the smell, the burn marks, it all matched.
The corpse's clothing, however, was extraordinary — a dark gold robe that shimmered even in the moonlight. Water rolled right off the surface like droplets off a lotus leaf, leaving not a trace behind. When Fang Han touched it, the fabric was unbelievably smooth, soft, and light — unlike anything he'd ever seen in the Fang household.
"What do I do? Report it to the authorities?" he murmured. But then a thought crept in — this man's clothes… he must be someone important. If he reported it, and they investigated, he might get caught up in something far beyond his station.
"Too much trouble," he decided. "Better to bury him quietly. Let him rest in peace, and I'll pretend nothing happened. Fewer troubles, longer life."
Resolved, he began dragging the corpse toward a nearby dune to dig a grave.
Then — clang!
Something fell from the corpse's chest — a small box, metallic yet not quite gold, not quite iron. It was the size of a palm, heavy and solid like a paperweight. Alongside it slipped a rolled-up scroll.
Curious, Fang Han picked them up.
The scroll, once unrolled, revealed a strange painting — a pitch-black background, from which the vague outline of a coiled dragon emerged. Its eyes were closed, its presence faint but ominous. It didn't look like a normal painting at all; it looked like a window — a glimpse into another realm.
"This thing's been underwater and didn't rot. Must be a treasure," Fang Han whispered. Even though he couldn't read the calligraphy, he could tell this wasn't ordinary.
He turned his attention to the box. A tiny golden lock sealed it shut. Temptation flickered in his eyes. He picked up a rock and struck hard. Crack! The lock broke cleanly.
"Pure gold," Fang Han breathed. "Four, maybe five taels. That's forty or fifty silver coins… but it's from a dead man."
He hesitated for a moment — then scoffed. "Hah, what gentleman's morality? I'm just a servant. Different men, different rules. The books say: 'If you don't hold the office, don't worry about the duty.' Fine words. I'll take it."
He slipped the gold lock into his tunic, then opened the box.
Inside lay a single black-golden pill, no larger than a thumb. What made it extraordinary were the nine tiny holes on its surface, each gently exhaling a faint fragrance.
The scent alone cleared Fang Han's mind. His fatigue vanished. His body felt light, as if he could sprint for miles.
And as he looked closer, those nine holes seemed to breathe — faint streams of energy rising and falling from them, like the rhythm of life itself.
"This pill... it's no ordinary medicine. Better than any tonic the Fang family's young masters take," Fang Han muttered in awe.
He'd seen those nobles swallow all sorts of expensive elixirs — ginseng pills, spiritual tonics, essence restorers — but none radiated power like this one.
"I've heard rumors," he mused aloud, "of ancient elixirs that can cleanse the body, strengthen the spirit, and open the meridians — saving years of hard training. Could this be one of them? Just smelling it makes me feel reborn..."
He held the pill in his palm, torn between awe and greed. For a brief moment, he considered swallowing it — but common sense prevailed.
"Even divine medicine can kill if taken wrong," he muttered. He'd seen Fang family disciples measure their tonics carefully, never daring to take too much.
Fang Han placed the pill back into the box and bowed slightly toward the corpse.
"Sir, I found your body by chance. I'll bury you properly. These two items… consider them my payment for doing so. No debts between us."
He bent down to lift the body —
And it sat up.
"Ha! The Divine Power Realm truly lives up to its name!" the corpse rasped, eyes still closed, voice echoing with a strange depth. "Fang Qingxue… a prodigy indeed. To touch the divine at such an age… but the Divine Power Realm still perishes in a hundred years. Only the Path of Immortality leads beyond death…"
Fang Han froze.
"A corpse... talking?"
"Zombies don't talk… and it's broad daylight!" His mind reeled.
The body turned its head slowly. A pair of sharp eyes glimmered beneath half-burnt lashes.
"Did you save me?" the man asked.
"So you're alive," Fang Han managed to say, steadying his voice.
The man's tone was cold. "You're calm. Most servants would've run to report me — for a thousand taels of silver, no less." His gaze was testing, dangerous.
Fang Han met his stare. "More trouble than it's worth. I prefer quiet profit. I found two treasures, but since you're alive, they're yours again."
He offered the box and scroll back with both hands, head lowered respectfully.
The man studied him — and chuckled. "'Quiet profit is the true path'... well said. I, Bai Haichen, have learned that lesson well. Tell me, whose servant are you?"
"From the Fang household, in Longyuan Province," Fang Han replied carefully.
"Ah… a Fang servant." Bai Haichen's expression darkened, then softened. His sharp eyes glanced at the footprints Fang Han had left on the ground.
"You've been practicing the Fang family's Strength Training method. Stolen, I presume? A slave daring to learn martial arts… bold. Restless. I like that."
Fang Han's heart skipped a beat. The man's gaze felt like it could strip him bare.
"Restless men make history," Bai Haichen said, his voice low and rough. "A Fang servant… and Fang Qingxue of the Divine Power Realm..." He sneered. His burned face twisted into a ghastly grin.
"You want to rise above your station, but you have no money, no backing. Training the body requires endless resources — herbs, tonics, elixirs. But you found me, boy. That's your luck. I can give you a chance to rise above everyone else… if you do a few things for me."
Fang Han's guard went up. "What kind of things?"
Bai Haichen pointed at the box. "That pill — the Nine Apertures Golden Elixir — can reshape your body, rebuild your strength, and lay a foundation no mortal could match. I'll teach you advanced martial techniques myself. With that, you'll rise faster than anyone in your generation. Whether you reach the Divine Power Realm depends on your fate."
"The Divine Power Realm!" Fang Han's eyes widened. "You can help me reach that?"
Bai Haichen smirked. "So you know of it? Seems you've learned quite a bit for a servant."
"I've only heard talk," Fang Han said quickly. "That the body has ten transformations — the tenth being Divine Mutation. When the flesh reaches its peak, the mind awakens, generating true power, and that power forms divine arts."
Bai Haichen's gaze sharpened. "Exactly. The brain — the seat of all mysteries. Every martial path begins and ends there."
Then his tone grew cold. "What I want is simple. Swear loyalty to me. Become my disciple. When you've grown strong, join the Feather Gate through the Fang family — and steal for me the Feather Ascension Scripture. Then… kill Fang Qingxue."
"Fang Qingxue?" Fang Han blurted, stunned. That was the Fang family's eldest daughter — a prodigy who trained under the Feather Gate's immortal masters.
He hesitated, then said recklessly, "But even joining the Feather Gate isn't true greatness. True power lies in ruling kingdoms, commanding armies — becoming emperor!"
Bai Haichen laughed — a harsh, mocking sound. "Your vision is still caged by mortal dust. True power isn't the throne of an empire — it's the throne of heaven itself. Those who reach the Immortal Realm rule over sects, command disciples, and shake the world. The so-called Emperor of the Great Li Dynasty? He's just a plaything to the immortals. If the Innate Devil Emperor or any of the Ten Great Sects willed it, they could destroy this dynasty a hundred times over."
Fang Han stood speechless. His world shattered.
He'd always thought the Great Li Dynasty was the world. Now he realized it was barely a speck.
Bai Haichen's voice dropped to a whisper. "There are countless kingdoms beyond this one — vast as oceans. The heavens stretch on forever. The world is as big as your ambition allows. I wanted to reach the Immortal Realm, but I failed. You might yet succeed. But you'll need the Fang family to get into the Feather Gate. So… kneel, boy. Time is short. Accept me as your master."