The Northern Plains was not merely a location; it was a biological thresher. A crucible of ice, iron, and blood designed to separate the strong from the dead. Here, the weak were not pitied; they were simply calories—fodder for the wolf packs that roamed the endless white wastes.
Outside, the wind screamed like a dying beast, clawing at the thick felt walls of the central yurt. Inside, the air was heavy, suffocatingly warm, thick with the cloying scent of burning dry dung and expensive sandalwood incense.
I, Ju Yang, stood before the polished bronze mirror, my hands gripping the cold edges of the washbasin.
The face reflected in the metal was fifteen years old. It was a face of terrifying symmetry—an aquiline nose, high, sharp cheekbones, and lips that naturally curled into a sneer of aristocracy. The eyes were the most striking feature; the irises held a faint, swirling golden hue, the undeniable genetic marker of the Huang Jin bloodline. It was a face born to command, a face that would one day be carved into mountains.
But the mind behind the eyes was ancient. And it was cold.
Subject: Ju Yang. Biological Age: 15. Status: Reincarnated. Current State: Stable, but fundamentally flawed.
In my previous life, on a blue planet far from this savage land, I was a man of science. A surgeon of unparalleled skill. But I was never a "healer." I grew bored of saving lives early in my career; repairing the clumsy mistakes of mortals was tedious. I became obsessed with extending life. I dissected the living and the dead, peeling back layers of fascia and muscle, searching for the biological mechanism of eternity. I wanted to know why cells underwent apoptosis. I wanted to know how to stop the clock. I was cold, rational, and unashamedly hedonistic.
And then, I died. A failure of my own biology.
But consciousness persisted.
Now, I was a character in a story I once read. Giant Sun Immortal Venerable. The man destined to conquer the Northern Plains, establish a hereditary monarchy, and leave behind a bloodline so vast it would choke the world.
I looked down at my hands. They were pale, uncalloused, the hands of a Young Master who had never skinned a wolf or pitched a tent. They were trembling slightly.
Not from fear. But from the imbalance within.
Diagnosis: Congenital Yang Blockage.
It was a cruel physiological joke. My aptitude was too high. The sheer density of the Yang essence accumulating in my body had created a pressurized system. It had sealed my Yang gates shut. My lower body was dormant, a dead zone.
To the world, I was a genius, a pristine vessel of noble blood. To myself, I was a cripple. A man who desired to taste every beauty in the world, to indulge in the hedonism of an Emperor, yet lacked the biological capacity to do so. The plumbing was intact, but the pressure valve was welded shut.
I need a treatment, I thought, my internal voice clinical, detached, analyzing my own body as if it were a cadaver on a slab. The blockage is energetic, not vascular. I need a catalyst to shatter the dam. A massive influx of Yin to create a vacuum, or a volatile Yang surge to blow the gates open.
"Young Master!"
A servant's voice cut through the tent flap, shrill and anxious. "The Clan Leader awaits! The Awakening Ceremony is about to begin! The sun has reached its zenith!"
I closed my eyes for a second, constructing the mask. I smoothed away the cold, analytical expression of the surgeon and replaced it with the arrogant, carefree smile of a pampered youth.
I donned my heavy wolf-fur robe, the pelt of a Thousand Beast King that cost more than a mortal village.
"I am coming," I said, my voice steady. "Let us see what Fate has prepared for me."
The pathway of the Wolf
The Awakening Square was located in the heart of the Ju Tribe camp. It was less a square and more of a military formation.
The Ju Tribe was a super-force of the Enslavement Path. We did not build walls of stone; we built walls of flesh. As I walked through the camp, flanked by four Rank 2 guards, I passed the perimeter.
Thousands of Steel-Back Wolves lay in the snow, their fur matted with ice, their yellow eyes watching every movement. They were the tribe's foundation. The smell was overpowering—wet fur, raw meat, and the metallic tang of dried blood. To a normal person, it would be nauseating. To me, it smelled like resources. Biomass waiting to be utilized.
In the center of the square, the Spirit Spring bubbled. It wasn't water; it was liquid primeval essence, forced up from the earth's veins by the tribe's formation.
My father, Ju Xiong, sat on the high seat. He was a mountain of a man, a Rank 4 Peak Stage Enslavement Path master. He wore armor made from the teeth ofevery great wolf he killed. He didn't look like a father; he looked like a bear wearing human skin.
"My son!" Ju Xiong roared, his voice amplified by a Sound Path Gu. The vibration caused the snow on the nearby yurts to slide off. "Today, you awaken! Show them the blood of our ancestors! Show them that the Ju Tribe breeds dragons, not dogs!"
The crowd of thousands—Elders, Gu Masters, and mortals—cheered. Their breath formed a massive cloud of steam in the freezing air.
I stepped up to the edge of the Spirit Spring.
Analyzing in my mind as always Procedure: Aperture Awakening. Risk: Minimal. Variable: Aptitude.
I stepped into the water.
The cold was instantaneous and shocking. It bit through my boots, gnawing at my bones. This was the pressure of the spirit spiring trying to crush a mortal body.
I took steps. The water reached my ankles.
Grade D. The level of servants and cannon fodder.
I didn't stop. I regulated my breathing, matching the rhythm of my heart to the pulses of energy in the water. My previous life's knowledge of anatomy allowed me to relax my muscles, reducing the resistance.
I passed the next checkpoint.
Grade C. The level of the common soldier.
I kept walking. The pressure grew heavier, like an iron band tightening around my chest. Most youths would be trembling now, their willpower fraying. But willpower is just a chemical reaction in the brain. I ignored it.
I passed the grade B chekpoint.
Grade B. The level of most Elders.
The crowd went silent. My father stood up, his hands gripping the arms of his throne so hard the wood splintered.
I took more steps. The pressure was immense, threatening to crush my lungs.
But I felt a wall ahead. The source.
Fate wants a Venerable, I thought, pushing forward with a surge of arrogance. So give me the crown.
I took the final step, standing directly over the spring's eye.
BOOM!
A soundless explosion rang inside my body. It felt like a supernova expanding in my lower abdomen. My aperture opened.
I looked inside with my internal vision.
The walls were crystal clear, radiating a blinding white light. The Primeval Sea was tumultuous, crashing against the walls, filling the space almost entirely.
99% A-Grade Aptitude.
The silence in the square stretched for a heartbeat, then shattered.
"Ninety-nine percent!" The presiding Elder shrieked, falling to his knees in the snow. "Heavens! A child of the Heavens!"
"The Wolf Emperor reborn!"
"The Ju Tribe will rule the Plains!"
My father leaped from the dais, landing with a thud that shook the ground. He grabbed me, hugging me so hard my ribs groaned. Tears streamed down his weathered face, freezing in his beard.
"I knew it! I knew it!" Ju Xiong sobbed, losing all dignity. "My son is a hero!"
I patted his massive back, smiling the smile of a dutiful son. Yes, yes. Celebrate the weapon you think you own. You have no idea what you are holding.
"Now," the Elder announced, wiping his eyes. "The Young Master must choose his Vital Gu."
This was the critical juncture. The first incision in the path of my life.
Servants brought forward a long table covered in red velvet. On it lay the treasures of the Ju Tribe.
The Rank 1 Wolf Enslavement Gu. A pulsing gray beetle that allowed control over ten beasts. The safe choice. The orthodox choice.
The Rank 1 Iron Bone Gu. A defensive treasure.
The Rank 1 Wolf soul Gu. A transformation path foundation.
The Elders looked at me with expectant eyes. They expected me to take the Wolf Enslavement Gu. It was the legacy of our tribe.
But I walked past them.
My eyes—the eyes of a researcher looking for the anomaly—drifted to the far end of the table. To the "Discard Pile."
There, sitting on a plain wooden tray, was a motionless, ugly brown beetle. It looked like a piece of dried mud or petrified dung.
I knew its history. I had raided my father's secret medical journals months ago.
My grandfather, Ju Bao, was a Mad Refiner. In his dying years, terrified of death, he tried to create a non consumable Life Extension Gu. He was insane. He threw a Rank 1 Lifespan Gu (15 Years) into the refinement fire. He added a Rank 1 Light Increase Gu. And then, in a fit of senile delusion about "grounding the heavenly energy," he added Thousand-Year-Old Desolate Hound Feces.
The experiment failed. The Lifespan Gu was consumed. The result was this beetle.
It did nothing. It attacked nothing. It defended nothing. It just sat there, emitting a faint, foul odor. The tribe kept it only out of respect for the ancestor.
But as I looked at it, a sharp, electric sensation pierced my gut.
It wasn't a system notification. It wasn't a voice from the heavens.
It was Intuition.
It was the same feeling I used to get when I looked at a patient and knew the tumor was operable before the scan confirmed it. A biological certainty.
Hypothesis: This Gu digested Time (Lifespan) and Information (Light). It uses the medium of "Filth" (Feces) to ground abstract concepts. It doesn't eat shit to survive; it consumes probability.
My gut twisted. Pick it. It is the Scalpel you need to dissect Fate.
I reached out.
"I choose this one."
The silence returned, heavier than before.
"The... The Dog Shit Gu?!" The Elder choked, his face turning purple. "Young Master, are you feverish? It eats excrement! It is a stain on your glory! It is useless trash!"
"Ju Yang!" My father roared, stepping forward. "Do not be a fool! You have 99% aptitude! Do not throw your future away on a joke!"
I held the ugly beetle up to the sunlight.
"It eats waste and turns it into gold," I declared, my voice ringing clear and sharp across the square. "Wolves are common. Anyone can herd a beast. But this... my intuition tells me this is the path to the Heavens."
"Intuition?!" My father sputtered. "You are choosing a Vital Gu based on a feeling?"
"I am a genius, Father," I said, channeling every ounce of arrogance I could muster. "Genius does not follow the beaten path. Genius blazes a new one."
I didn't wait for his permissioni thank them and return to my yurt.
Refinement.
My 99% primeval essence flooded the Gu. It offered no resistance. It was hungry.in less than an hour it buzzed
Buzz.
The Gu entered my aperture. It hovered over my vast primeval sea, vibrating contentedly.
Immediately, the world shifted.
I didn't see numbers. I didn't see auras.
I felt tugs.
A gentle pull to the left—the wind is about to shift, move your robe.
A sharp poke in the gut—don't step there, the ice is thin.
It was a sixth sense. A navigational system for reality.
I named it internally: Dog Shit Luck Gu.
I turned to the mirror i knew my path was decided by Fate and it was helping me pave the way.
They thought their Young Master had gone mad.
I smiled into the collar of my robe.
Let them think I am mad. Madmen are unpredictable. And unpredictability is the only thing that can hide me from the gaze of Heaven.
Now, I had the Luck. But I still had the Blockage.
I returned to my yurt, my body burning with unused energy, my mind already dissecting the next problem.
Tonight, I must be perfect again.