At the rear mountain of the Ye Family, atop a cliff.
The mountain wind cut like blades, sweeping across the boy’s bare upper body, leaving faint pale streaks on his skin.
Ye Fan stood at the edge of the cliff in an extremely strange posture, arms spread wide, every inch of his muscles tensed to the limit.
“Hah… hah…”
He panted heavily, feeling as if his lungs were about to explode.
This body-refining technique, called Bone Tempering Art, was simply not meant for humans.
Starting from early dawn every day until sunset, without fail.
If not for the stubborn will burning in his chest, he would have given up hundreds of times already.
“Old man, it’s New Year’s Eve today. Let’s stop here, alright?” Ye Fan muttered in his mind, “My father is still waiting for me to have the reunion dinner. And my brother should be back from training today too. I have to let him see that his little brother… is no longer a useless waste!”
By the end, his tone carried an uncontrollable hint of excitement and pride.
Three years ago, he had fallen from a heaven’s favored genius into a cripple, suffering endless scorn.
On top of that, he had his engagement publicly broken off.
At his lowest point, chased by wild dogs on the back mountain and tumbling down a slope in panic, his blood had accidentally activated the seemingly ordinary black iron ring on his finger—changing his fate.
Within the ring lived a remnant soul of an old monster who called himself the Medicine Saint.
“New Year’s Eve?” a hoarse, lazy voice echoed in his mind, tinged with mockery, “What does a mortal festival have to do with cultivators like us? You brat, your laziness is acting up again. You just want to sneak back and gnaw on your family’s spirit beast meat, don’t you?”
Ye Fan flushed red and retorted stubbornly, “Nonsense! This is… this is filial piety! Yes, filial piety! Among all virtues, filial piety comes first. Even cultivation requires balance between work and rest!”
“Hmph, twisted logic.” The voice in the ring snorted but did not press further, “Fine. Your half month of bitter training equals a year for others. Your foundation is stable now. It’s time for you to return and give those arrogant clansmen of yours a little surprise.”
“Hehe, as expected, you’re the reasonable one.”
Overjoyed, Ye Fan relaxed his body, feeling as though his bones were about to fall apart.
He quickly put on his worn, washed-out clothes, dusted himself off, and eagerly ran toward the direction of home.
He had even prepared his opening line in his mind.
“Brother, look! My talent has returned!”
However, just as he ran out of the mountain pass and his vision suddenly opened up, the smile on his face froze.
The blue sky… had been replaced by a shadow.
It was a giant hand.
Ye Fan’s first reaction was not fear, but shock—followed by an instinctive longing and obsession.
“This… what kind of power is this!” he murmured, his eyes shining, “With a flip of the hand, clouds gather; with a turn, rain falls. A true man should be like this! One day, I will possess such power too—one palm… huh?”
“No… something’s wrong!”
Ye Fan went mad, sprinting toward his home with everything he had.
He had to go back. He had to save them!
“Stop! You idiot!”
For the first time, the Medicine Saint’s voice was so stern.
“Get out of my way!” Ye Fan’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression crazed, “I’m going back to save my father! Save my brother!”
“Go back and die?” The Medicine Saint’s voice turned icy, “Look clearly at what that is! That is the method of a Divine Transformation Realm powerhouse! Not just you—even if your 9th stage Golden Core Realm father advanced two more levels, he would still be no more than an ant before that palm!”
“Divine Transformation?”
Ye Fan staggered for a moment, but he did not stop. He roared, “I don’t care about any Divine Transformation! That’s my home! Even if I die, I will die with them!”
Suddenly, a terrifying pressure descended from the sky.
“Oh?”
“I can give you a chance to die with them.”
Lu Qingxuan stood with his hands behind his back, speaking with a hint of mockery.
Feeling the overwhelming pressure of a Divine Transformation Realm, Ye Fan’s entire body trembled violently, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
“Run! You fool, run!”
Inside the ring, the Medicine Saint shouted anxiously, “Don’t listen to him! He wants to kill you! Use your fastest speed, burn your blood essence, and run toward the cliff! Hurry!”
Ye Fan wanted to move, but his body refused to obey. He was completely frozen in place.
[Ding! Detected child of destiny: Ye Fan. Current luck level: Gold.]
[Warning: The target is favored by the Heavenly Dao. Protected by destiny. Conventional methods cannot completely eliminate him. Forcibly killing him may trigger interference from the Heavenly Dao.]
[Suggested plan: Seize his fortuitous opportunities, shatter his dao heart, isolate him until his destiny declines and he is abandoned by the Heavenly Dao. Only then can he be killed with a single strike.]
Lu Qingxuan let out a disdainful chuckle.
Child of destiny? Protected by fate?
Those cliché plots from the novels he had read in his previous life flashed through his mind.
Villains always lost because they talked too much, because of arrogance, because they insisted on toying with the protagonist—only to give him the chance to turn the tables, rise against all odds, and ultimately step on their corpses to reach the peak.
How foolish.
“Heavenly Dao?” Lu Qingxuan sneered inwardly, “Cultivation is the path of defying the heavens. If everything were done in accordance with the heavens, what would be the point of cultivating?”
He refused to believe it.
Seizing opportunities? Breaking his dao heart? Too troublesome.
Strike while he’s weak. Take his life.
Eliminate all threats in the cradle.
Though it was merely an ordinary strike, in Ye Fan’s eyes, it seemed to drain all light and sound from the world. Everything turned black and white, leaving only that palm growing larger and larger.
“No…”
Ye Fan stared at Lu Qingxuan in shock.
He’s attacking already?
Shouldn’t he first throw out some harsh words? Mock me? Say I’m nothing but an ant?
Shouldn’t he give me time to shout, “Thirty years on the east bank, thirty years on the west bank—don’t bully the poor youth”?
Shouldn’t he give me a chance to escape using the Medicine Saint’s secret technique, so I could swear to repay this a hundredfold in the future?
This villain… why isn’t he following the script?!
Just as the world-destroying palm was about to strike Ye Fan’s head—
Buzz—
A brilliant green light suddenly appeared out of nowhere, forming a solid shield in front of him in an instant.
Boom!
The palm collided with the shield, producing a deep, muffled explosion.
The violent shockwaves swept outward, scraping another meter off the surrounding ground.
At the center of the dust, a tall, sturdy figure stood in front of Ye Fan, robes fluttering, aura steady.
It was a middle-aged man with a resolute face and sharp, eagle-like eyes, now staring solemnly at Lu Qingxuan.
Lu Qingxuan’s brows furrowed ever so slightly.
Seriously?
His divine sense had swept this area countless times. Not even an ant could escape his perception.
Where did this man come from?
Lu Qingxuan’s gaze fell on the jade token hanging at the man’s waist.
The token was pure white, engraved with an ancient character—”Liu.”
Central Region, Liu Family.
Lu Qingxuan understood instantly.
This must be the guardian left behind by Ye Fan’s childhood sweetheart, Liu Mengyao.
Although Liu Mengyao had returned to the Central Region, she had left her guardian here to secretly protect Ye Fan, ensuring he would not encounter any mishap.
……
[Luck Levels: White, Green, Blue, Purple, Red, Orange, Gold, Multicolored]