"Thank you, Doctor Li," Wang Fang said softly, bowing his head with sincere gratitude as he stepped across the threshold of the medicine hall's inner chamber.
"It is nothing, Young Master," Doctor Li replied, his raspy voice dipping low as he offered a frail, grandfatherly smile from his seat.
Wang Fang turned around, adjusting his small robes, and set his gaze down the long, shaded hallway leading back toward his personal pavilion.
"Ah, Young Master," Doctor Li called out suddenly, causing the boy to pause in his tracks. The old man leaned forward slightly, his eyes turning incredibly solemn. "Please... be exceptionally careful about that thing I gave you. And do not hesitate to ask this old man whenever you find yourself in need of guidance."
Wang Fang smiled a little, a genuine warmth flickering in his dark eyes. "No problem," he replied reassuringly.
With a firm nod, Wang Fang turned back toward his destination. As he navigated the quiet wooden corridor, the atmosphere grew noticeably heavy and cold. Standing just a few meters ahead, leaning aggressively against a thick support pillar, was Doctor Li's head disciple—Li Chan.
The two locked eyes. Li Chan's gaze was sharp, menacing, and dripping with unadulterated venom. It was the look of a man who had officially marked an enemy for life. He glared down at the ten-year-old boy, his jaw clenched tightly in a silent, dangerous threat.
Wang Fang simply blinked, completely unfazed. He is still just being childish, Fang thought to himself, his mature soul looking at the young man's displaced anger with calm detachment.
Without a word, Fang casually broke eye contact midway as they crossed paths in the narrow hallway. He never looked back. Neither did Li Chan, who marched forward into his master's room with a furious, rigid posture.
Minutes later, Wang Fang stepped out of the secluded Medicine Hall and onto the sprawling, bustling main stone paths of the Crimson Clan estate. He walked at a steady, unhurried pace, passing straight through the physical hearts of the family's power. He passed the grand front gates of the main hall, the towering iron doors of the Gathering Hall, and the heavily guarded entrance of his mother's meeting chamber. He even walked past the open-air training pavilions that led straight up toward the steep, misty mountain tracks.
Eventually, his steps took him directly through the estate's central gardens—a beautifully manicured territory protected by the clan guardians. All around him, the view was breathtaking. Glowing spiritual flowers swayed gracefully in the breeze, and rare spiritual herbs radiated a faint, shimmering mist that smelled of sweet nectar.
But the beauty of the scenery was instantly ruined by the ugly murmurs of the clan servants tending to the plants. When they spotted his small figure walking alone, their bustling activity stopped. The servants huddled together, casting cold, patronizing glances over their shoulders.
"Ahh, there he is... the trash of the family," one maidservant whispered maliciously to the woman pulling weeds beside her.
"I still can't believe he made a bet on something he can't possibly win," another servant muttered, shaking his head in mock pity.
"Yes, exactly! Does he seriously think he can win a martial duel without a single drop of Qi?" a third guard chuckled quietly, adjusting his spear. "Tch, what a complete joke."
But Wang Fang's mind belonged to a seasoned adult. He didn't care about their shallow opinions, nor was he bothered in the slightest by the useless thoughts they threw upon him. To him, their barking was like wind passing through trees. He secretly smiled to himself, amused by their sheer ignorance, and kept walking until he finally approached the wooden gates of his own courtyard.
Suddenly, a frantic, breathless voice rang out loudly behind him.
"Young Master!"
"Huh?" Fang stopped, blinking in surprise.
He turned on his heel, and to his astonishment, he saw Xiao Lan sprint around the stone corner. Her hair was slightly messy and her chest heaved as she breathed heavily, clearly having run across the entire estate just to find him.
"Where... where have you been?" she panted, resting her hands on her knees to stabilize herself. "I have been looking everywhere for you!"
"Why?" Fang asked, tilting his head slightly.
Xiao Lan swallowed hard, finally catching her breath as she looked at him with wide, urgent eyes. "Because the Clan Leader just returned, and he specifically asked me to summon you to his study immediately!"
Later inside the private study.
Wang Fang stepped inside the quiet, shadow-drenched study chamber, the heavy scent of old parchment and rich incense hitting his nose. His father, Wang Yun, stood with his back turned, staring silently out the tall window at the jagged mountain peaks.
"Close the door, Fang," Wang Yun commanded softly, his deep voice carrying a strange, heavy weight.
Fang slid the wooden door shut. As he turned back, his father finally rotated around, his sharp eyes locking onto the boy's face.
What is going on? Wang Fang thought to himself, his stomach tightening. Why is Father being this serious? Is he angry that I haven't started training yet? Ahh, if I were in his position, I would be furious too, since I promised to defeat the Fourth Elder's son.
"Father, I am sor—"
Wang Fang was cut short.
"Don't get me wrong, son," Wang Yun said calmly. He reached into his heavy robes and tossed a small, finely stitched bag across the room.
Fang caught it cleanly out of the air. Huh?
"I thought of giving you your monthly allowance myself this time, instead of handing it over to your maid," Wang Yun explained, a faint, rare softness flickering in his eyes.
Wang Fang let out a heavy breath. Huff! For a moment, I really thought I was going to get scolded. He peeked inside the pouch, and a small smile touched his lips. I got spirit stones!
"Thank you, Father," Wang Fang said, cupping his fists respectfully. "Can I go now?"
"Yes," Wang Yun replied.
Wang Fang turned on his heel to head toward the door.
"Hmm, wait..." Wang Yun called out, his tone suddenly shifting.
Wang Fang stopped in his tracks, freezing. Ah... did he just change his mind to scold me?
Before he could process the thought, Wang Yun stepped forward. He raised his right hand, condensing a strand of incredibly pure, warm spiritual energy. With a gentle tap on his son's chest, Wang Yun used his Qi to plant a silent, dormant seed of defensive energy straight into Wang Fang's foundation.
Fang let out a small gasp as the profound warmth settled deep within his torso.
"Be careful with whatever it is you want to do," Wang Yun told him, looking straight into his eyes with absolute sincerity. "I might not know your plans, but I will trust you, son."
Hearing those words, a profound wave of emotion washed over Wang Fang. I don't remember my exact identity or my life from the past, he thought, his chest tightening with fierce loyalty. But I have a new life now. I have a father and a mother who love me unconditionally. I must never betray their trust.
Wang Fang stood tall, the childlike weakness vanishing from his face as his adult resolve took over. He spoke out clearly, "Father, like I said year's ago, I will become strong. Very strong! So strong that no one will ever dare insult me, nor my family, ever again."
Steeling his heart, he raised his hand and took a grand, solemn oath right there in the quiet room: "I, your son, Wang Fang, make an oath today that in the future, the heavens and whatever lies above them will tremble before me!"
Wang Yun stared at the boy in stunned silence for a second before bursting into a hearty, booming laugh. "What a silly, ambitious one! Alright, now you can go."
The Weight of the Secret
The moment the doors slid shut and Wang Fang stepped out into the corridor, the laughter instantly vanished from Wang Yun's face, replaced by a deep, trembling anxiety.
He whispered into the empty room, "That brutal physical training technique... it is far too dangerous."
Just minutes before Fang had arrived, Doctor Li had connected to Wang Yun via a communication Transmission Jade. The fragile thread of the formation had buzzed to life on his desk.
"Clan Leader," Doctor Li's raspy, weakened voice had called out.
"Yes, Doctor Li," Wang Yun had replied instantly.
"The Young Master... he has chosen to use the forbidden body cultivation method to repair his vessel."
In that exact instant, Wang Yun had been utterly shocked, his breath catching in his throat. "What?! How could you give him that? You know exactly how dangerous that technique is! It is an absolute, life-threatening torture!" Wang Yun hadn't given the old doctor any room to argue.
"Clan Leader, forgive me, please," Doctor Li had wheezed into the jade, his voice full of a strange, unshakeable conviction. "But I don't know why... I feel like he can actually do it. I feel like he can completely surpass all of our expectations. One day..." Doctor Li had paused, the memory of them laughing together like a grandfather and grandson flashing through his mind. "One day, he will break free from these shackles and gain absolute access to his monstrous talent. Please... believe in him."
Wang Yun's eyes had been trembling with fear for his son's life. He had wanted to argue, to command them to stop, but he forced himself to calm down. "Okay. I will trust your words, since you have always been a trustworthy man."
Back to the present, Wang Yun looked back out the window, a proud but bittersweet smile touching his lips. "Sometimes, I feel like you are far wiser than your age, Fang," he whispered into the shadows.
Later that evening, the blazing sun finally rolled down below the mountain horizon. The sky began shaping back into its dark, cosmic state, and up came the three magnificent, glowing moons of this world, bathing the estate in a brilliant silver hue.
Inside his personal chamber, Wang Fang stood up from his bed. The time for waiting was officially over. It looks like it's time, he thought, his eyes sharp.
He dropped to his knees, reached deep under his wooden bed frame, and carefully pulled out a hidden, dusty small box. The box measured roughly the size of a small baby bag, compact enough to be carried easily in one hand, yet large enough to hold several precious treasures. It was perfectly rectangular, about 40 centimeters long, 25 centimeters wide, and 20 centimeters high.
With a racing heart, he unlatched the metallic lid. Reaching in with his right hand, he slowly brought out a heavy, ancient book measuring 35 centimeters long, 20 centimeters wide, and 10 centimeters high.
The ancient tome felt astonishingly heavy in Wang Fang's small hands, far heavier than its physical size should have allowed. The worn leather cover was cracked with age, its faded surface etched with countless deep scratches as though it had survived the brutal passage of centuries. The corners had become rounded from time, and the yellowed pages protruding from the edges looked so brittle that a careless touch might reduce them to dust.
Wang Fang gently placed the book upon the floor before him. His heartbeat quickened.
"So this... is the technique Doctor Li entrusted to me."
He slowly reached toward the weathered cover, his fingers hesitating for the briefest moment before lifting it open.
Creeeak...
The dry pages groaned softly, as though they had not been disturbed for countless years. The instant the first page unfolded—
Puff!
A thick cloud of ancient dust burst into the air like a miniature sandstorm.
"Cough! Cough! Cough!"
Wang Fang immediately covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve, his eyes squeezing shut as the dust invaded his lungs. "Cough... this book is older than I thought..."
He waved both hands repeatedly through the air to clear his view. The dust gradually scattered throughout the room before finally settling onto the wooden floor. Only after several long breaths did Wang Fang lower his sleeve, his gaze slowly falling upon the text.
The parchment was dark yellow, almost bronze with age. Tiny cracks spread across its surface like dried riverbeds, yet the ink remained strangely intact, every stroke as deep and black as if it had been written only yesterday. There was no sign of fading, no blurring, and no decay despite the countless years that had passed.
At the very top of the page, four ancient characters stood proudly, each written with bold, domineering brushstrokes that seemed to radiate an invisible, physical pressure. The mere sight of those words caused Wang Fang's heart to tremble ever so slightly.
Beneath the title, there was no cultivation scripture, no complex list of meridians, nor any explanation of circulating Qi. Instead, a single stark warning greeted whoever opened the book:
"If you seek comfort, close this book.
If you seek shortcuts, burn this book.
If you fear pain... you were never worthy of opening it."
The room became deathly silent. Wang Fang unconsciously swallowed hard.
"...Interesting."
A faint, daring smile slowly spread across his face. Rather than discouraging him, the harsh warning ignited a roaring fire deep within his heart. Without another word, he turned the page, ready to discover what kind of terrifying path awaited him.