Within Weidao City, snow had been falling for several consecutive days, accumulating over a foot deep, blocking roads and leaving the streets deserted. The once-bustling ancient city, now besieged by the relentless snowfall, had grown much quieter and more desolate.
Despite the bitter cold and freezing conditions, the streets were not entirely devoid of people. Vendors and laborers, carrying firewood or selling vegetables, still braved the wind and snow to enter the city, hoping to earn some extra income for their households. The wealthy families within the city, seeing the harsh weather, were also more inclined to offer generous rewards. However, the city only saw traces of activity around noon. Once that time passed, whether in the morning or evening, not a single soul could be found on the streets.
Yet there was an exception. One early morning, a figure stumbled through the gates of Weidao City. This person was only in their teens, merely a child. Their steps were unsteady, clearly weakened from days without proper food or drink; their clothes were tattered, with mismatched shoes and pants, undoubtedly picked from discarded garments. In such a state, they were either fleeing famine or seeking refuge. As there was no widespread disaster at the time, it seemed certain that their family had met with misfortune, and they had come here to escape.
Upon entering the city, the youth hoped only to find a kind-hearted household, first to secure some food, then to sleep soundly. With the cold so severe, without shelter, closing one’s eyes might mean never waking again. Thus, this child had already gone a full night without rest.
Once inside the city, the youth saw every household with tightly shut doors and feared that knocking recklessly might bring trouble, leaving them somewhat disheartened. Fortunately, as if heaven took pity, the snow began to ease, likely to stop in a few days. Even so, the child dared not stop moving, wandering through the city until, after a while, a slight sweat broke out on their body. Yet, after a night of exhausting travel, coupled with hunger and cold, anyone would grow weary. Passing through another street, the youth saw a large estate with a grand plaque against a red background and a golden frame, inscribed with the two characters “Qian Manor.” Seeing no one around, the child curled up in a corner by the door, preparing to rest.
As luck would have it, shortly after the youth sat down, they heard movement from the door.
Before long, a person emerged from within. This man appeared to be in his fifties or sixties, with a kindly face, yet his voice boomed like a great bell, “Young Master, are you leaving now?”
Hearing this, the youth thought this person must be a servant of Qian Manor.
Then another person stepped out from inside, “I’ll go now. It’s still before dawn, troubling you like this makes me feel rather embarrassed.”
This voice still carried a childlike tone, clearly belonging to a young boy. The youth thought, this child was no ordinary person. First, he addressed the elderly servant as “Grandfather”—one speaking naturally, the other accepting comfortably—showing the child’s respectful treatment of others and the affection he earned from the servants. Second, daring to venture out alone in such weather indicated both courage and capability. It was a pity the youth was feigning sleep and couldn’t see what this child looked like.
While the youth was lost in these thoughts, the conversation continued.
“Young Master, you truly humble this old servant by saying that. Besides, your mother already gave instructions yesterday—how could I not comply?”
“Mother is always so thoughtful.” The young master seemed to hold his mother in great esteem, even chuckling unconsciously as he spoke.
“Young Master, the snow on the road is quite deep, and it may be difficult to walk. Perhaps let Ziyu accompany you?” Ziyu was the old servant’s grandson, around the same age as the young master.
“That won’t be necessary. Let Ziyu sleep a little longer. You should also return and rest early.” With that, he turned to leave. Before the young master could step down from the entrance stairs, he noticed someone by the door.
“Huh? Who is this?”
The boy by the door, hungry and weary, couldn’t be bothered to get up and simply continued feigning sleep, curious to see how the master and servant would treat him.
The old servant, seeing the person’s filthy appearance, feared he might be carrying disease or misfortune, and thought to give him some silver to send him on his way. Unexpectedly, the young master walked over, checked his breathing, felt his temperature, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“He’s warm. Steward Grandpa, lend a hand and help carry him inside.”
It turned out this old servant was actually the steward of Qian Manor, surnamed Zhao, named Boqian, a longtime servant of the Qian household. This stranger’s origins were unclear, and he shouldn’t have been casually brought into Qian Manor, but Zhao saw that he didn’t seem wicked and, coupled with not wanting to dampen the young master’s kindness, brought him back to his own room.
Once inside, the boy could no longer pretend to sleep, so he sighed bitterly and woke up.
“Who are you, where are you from, and how old are you?” Zhao Boqian asked. At this moment, the young master was not in the room, likely having already gone out.
“My surname is Chang, given name Weiqi. From Tonggu. Fourteen years old.”
“Why have you come to Weidao City?” Zhao Boqian marveled that someone so young could travel so far. But as the steward, he had to ask clearly and carefully, so his tone wasn’t particularly polite.
“Because my family met with misfortune, and I had nowhere to go, I drifted here.”
“What kind of misfortune?”
“I…” The boy recalled the past, tears already filling his eyes, but he didn’t know where to begin. Just as he was struggling, a child entered through the doorway. He was around ten years old, with handsome features, dressed in a blue robe, not much more luxurious than what the steward wore, but it fit well and was clean.
“You’re awake. Here, have something to eat first.” He held a porcelain bowl in his arms, containing a few sweet potatoes.
“Young Master,” the steward bowed.
Chang Weiqi recognized this voice—it was the young master who had saved him. So he hadn’t left after all, but had gone to find food for him. Chang Weiqi acknowledged and sat at the table, eating the sweet potatoes.
Watching him eat, the young master chuckled to himself, “Steward Grandpa, when Auntie Wang wakes up and finds sweet potatoes missing, she’ll think we have mice in the house.” Seeing the young master joke with him, Chang Weiqi felt even warmer inside, as if this child were his own younger brother.
“Brother, what’s your name?”
Hearing this address of “brother,” Chang Weiqi nearly burst into tears. He held back with difficulty and managed to utter the three words: Chang Weiqi.
“Do you know how to read?”
Chang Weiqi nodded, unsure what he was getting at.
“Great!” The child danced around, a bit too excited. “Brother, my family still needs a study attendant. Would you be willing?”
The child’s tone and demeanor seemed almost like a plea.
Before Chang Weiqi could answer, Zhao Boqian said, “Young Master, hiring someone for the household requires the approval of the master and mistress.”
“That’s so troublesome,” the little master said, somewhat dejected. “But Mother loves me the most; she’ll agree.” This last part was unclear whether he was talking to himself or to Chang Weiqi.
“Grandpa Zhao, please help find some clothes that fit him.”
“Yes.”
“Brother, I have to go out later. Come with me.”
Though exhausted, Chang Weiqi agreed. “By the way, I still don’t know your name.”
The child beamed and replied, “My surname is Qian, given name Lingyan. I am Qian Lingyan.”
When Chang Weiqi had changed his clothes and went out with Qian Lingyan, the sky had not yet brightened, but the snow had stopped.
After changing his clothes and washing up briefly, Chang Weiqi accompanied Qian Lingyan on his journey.
After walking for a while, Chang Weiqi could no longer contain his curiosity and asked, “Where are you going so early?”
“The New Year is approaching, and I’m going to visit my martial arts instructor. The other teachers all live in the city, and I’ve already visited them. Only this Teacher Qu lives outside the city, so I’m going early.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to go at noon, when it’s warmer?”
“My mother says that a teacher is like a father. I must treat him with the respect due to an elder. So, I have to go early to pay my respects. Have you ever seen anyone pay respects at noon?”
“You always mention your mother. Does she dote on you?”
“Of course.” Qian Lingyan pouted, looking quite proud. “What about your mother? Is she the same?”
“My mother… she’s dead.”
“How could that be?” Qian Lingyan frowned, and for some reason, suddenly burst into tears.
Qian Lingyan’s crying left Chang Weiqi at a loss. He himself hadn’t cried, yet Qian Lingyan was the first to shed tears. But he was moved, thinking that Qian Lingyan was pure-hearted and couldn’t help crying upon hearing of his mother’s death.
In truth, Qian Lingyan did sympathize with Chang Weiqi, but not enough to cry. However, for some reason, Qian Lingyan thought of himself—what if he didn’t have a mother? The deeper he thought, the more bitter and painful it felt, as if he had truly become a motherless child, and once he started crying, he couldn’t stop.
“Aren’t you supposed to go pay respects to your teacher? How can you go like this?” Chang Weiqi coaxed and persuaded until Qian Lingyan finally stopped crying.
“Brother, can you tell me about your family? I want to hear it.” Although Qian Lingyan was a child, he knew that if he wanted to help Chang Weiqi, he had to understand his past. The Qian family would never take in someone with an unknown background.
Qian Lingyan knew that if his family questioned Chang Weiqi, it would be like interrogating a criminal. But he was different—he was a listener, a friend, or even family. He was listening to Chang Weiqi’s story, not interrogating him.
“My family lives in Tonggu. The Chang family is quite a prominent clan in the area. By the way, our family is like yours—we’re also a family of Demon-Slayers.”
“So, you’ve heard of our Qian family?” Qian Lingyan was still proud of his family’s reputation.
“Who doesn’t know the seven great families of the Weidao Alliance? Actually, our family is also affiliated with the Weidao Alliance.”
Since they were affiliated with the Weidao Alliance, they couldn’t be weak, Qian Lingyan thought. So how had Chang Weiqi ended up like this? Although he had questions, Qian Lingyan didn’t interrupt and let Chang Weiqi continue.
Several months ago, it was late autumn. The weather was quite cool but not as bitterly cold as it was now.
The Chang family of Tonggu was a respected clan in the area, with many skilled members. Whenever a household was plagued by demons, they would always turn to the Chang family for help. The Chang family never refused a request and charged fair fees, so their reputation spread far and wide, with many people traveling from afar seeking their aid.
The Chang family lived in peace with the world, enjoying a carefree and content life.
One day, a burly man arrived at the Chang residence. Standing six feet tall with dark skin and a physique as sturdy as an ox, he barged into the estate without waiting for the gatekeeper to announce him. At that moment, the clan members were practicing martial arts in the courtyard. Seeing this intruder, they immediately assumed defensive positions. Without orders from the head of the family, no one acted rashly—a testament to the discipline and training of the Chang clan, far from being a disorganized mob.
Upon witnessing this display, the burly man dared not act recklessly either. He cupped his hands in a salute and said, “I request an audience with the head of the family.” Though his gesture appeared respectful, his tone lacked deference.
“Chang Ci of Tonggu is here. May I ask who you are and what business brings you here?” Chang Ci, having heard the commotion in the courtyard, hurried over. Despite the urgency, his demeanor remained composed and dignified.
“I am the Mountain-Shaking Bear, known as Gui Siye. I heard your family has some worthless trinket called the ‘Chan Water Pearl.’ Figured it can’t be worth much, so I thought I’d borrow it for a few days to play with.” As he spoke, a surge of demonic Qi filled the air, striking fear into everyone present.
“As you yourself said, it’s just a worthless trinket. If you desire it, could it be that you’re in the business of collecting scrap?” Chang Ci maintained his composure, though inwardly he grew wary. This Gui Siye was clearly no ordinary foe.
Seeing he couldn’t gain any advantage through words, Gui Siye grew angry. “Since the Chang family is unwilling to part with a piece of scrap, it seems I’ll have to tear this place apart and search for it myself.” Before he finished speaking, he launched his attack.
This Gui Siye, daring to storm the Chang residence alone, truly possessed extraordinary skills. The Chang clan cultivated Ice-type Qi, but their true strength lay in swordsmanship, excelling at using minimal force to deflect immense power.
Gui Siye cultivated Strength-type Qi, which should have made the outcome unpredictable. However, the disparity in their abilities was vast. Even if four ounces could deflect a thousand pounds, this “Fourth Master” wielded the force of ten thousand. Thus, Gui Siye could overpower skill with brute strength, and coupled with his bizarre techniques, the Chang clan’s skilled fighters were like paper and clay sculptures before him. In no time, more than half of those in the courtyard were dead or wounded.
Seeing that his people were no match for this foe and that continuing the fight would only increase casualties, Chang Ci ordered his men to retreat and stepped into the fray himself.
Gui Siye taunted, “Boy, hand over the Chan Water Pearl, and I’ll spare the lives of your entire family.”
Having observed the bear spirit’s techniques, Chang Ci noted that despite their strangeness, they relied mainly on brute force. Confident he wouldn’t lose, Chang Ci offered no reply. Instead, he struck with a backhanded sword move, “Flowers in the Mist.” Using Ice Qi to condense moisture and obscure Gui Siye’s vision, he swiftly thrust his sword forward.
Caught off guard, Gui Siye could only dodge sideways. As he evaded the strike, Chang Ci’s sword swept horizontally toward him. Gui Siye retreated a step, raising both arms to block his chest. Just as the blade was about to sever his arms, a surge of spiritual energy erupted from them, deflecting the sword.
This move by Gui Siye was truly ingenious. Though his carelessness had initially given Chang Ci the upper hand, he now managed a desperate counterattack, turning the tables. With a bit of luck, he might even seize the advantage.
Unfazed by the deflected sword, Chang Ci executed “Returning Kindness with Kindness.” This move was the essence of the Chang family’s swordsmanship—absorbing the opponent’s force into the blade and releasing it upon counterattack. The stronger the opponent’s force, the more powerful the retaliation.
All this happened in an instant. Before Ghost Four could savor his triumph, the sword blade arrived once more, its momentum even fiercer than before, causing him genuine panic. Yet Ghost Four was no ordinary opponent. With his arms still raised, he channeled Qi to protect them, and as the sword struck, he used the impact to retreat. Unexpectedly, the sword’s force was so violent that it knocked Ghost Four to the ground. He slid over ten meters before stopping. Taking advantage of the slide, Ghost Four performed a backward flip, kneeling on one knee with his right hand supporting him, and quickly rose. He knew that if he stood up too slowly, he would lose any chance to counterattack.
Ghost Four was already wounded, but fortunately, he had retreated far enough and risen quickly enough—the outcome was still uncertain. Just as Ghost Four intended to stand, an ice sword flew toward his face. He hastily responded, forming a Qi shield before him, but due to his haste, he was once again sent flying. This time he retreated even farther; if not for a wall blocking him, it was unclear where he might have ended up.
“Cold Qi Materialization! I underestimated you.” Immediately, the demonic aura intensified. Ghost Four’s height increased by several feet, his body swelling explosively. His coarse clothes burst open, sprouting fur as he transformed into a bear-like beast.
Now protected by demonic aura, Ghost Four fought Chang Ci several more rounds, with neither gaining clear advantage.
Chang Ci thought, this opponent relies solely on brute force. “Returning Kindness with Kindness” was precisely his weakness; by skillfully employing it, he could remain unbeatable. Indeed, as he executed this, Ghost Four retreated step by step. Each slash from Chang Ci was met with a demonic aura counterattack from Ghost Four, and the fiercer the counterattack, the stronger the next assault became.
Chang Ci did not wish to prolong the battle. Seeing Ghost Four expose a flaw, he leaped into the air and delivered a full-force slash. Ghost Four could neither evade nor block it in time. To block it would allow Chang Ci to harness the rebound, making his attacks increasingly fierce—defeat would be inevitable sooner or later. Yet not blocking it would mean being cleaved in two instantly.
Chang Ci felt victory assured. As his sword descended, he saw Ghost Four grin maliciously. This strike, unlike before, was not rebounded by demonic aura but instead sank like a stone into the sea, with no force returning. It turned out Ghost Four possessed a technique called “Earth-Drawing Technique,” which drew power from the earth, granting limitless strength. This time, he reversed the technique, drawing force into the ground, so Chang Ci’s slash felt as if it struck empty air.
“Blame your father for giving you the wrong name. Today, you shall bid farewell to this world.” Ghost Four unleashed a full-power punch. Chang Ci, still airborne, had no way to avoid it. Struck by this blow, his internal organs shattered, likely beyond any hope of healing.