Chapter 7

The muffled thud of the small courtyard's wooden door closing behind him completely shut out the lingering clamor from the front hall. The carefully orchestrated humiliation temporarily departed. Dead silence once again enshrouded the dilapidated courtyard, as thick as congealed ink. The cold wind poured through the hole in the roof, swirling, kicking up a few withered leaves, and letting out a low, whimpering groan. Qin Lie leaned his back against the bone-chillingly cold earthen wall, his body sliding slowly down the rough surface until he sat upon the ground. Every subtle movement pulled at the churning, agonizing pain within his body. Deep in his throat, a stubborn, rust-like metallic tang lingered. He opened his palm. Lying in the center was the palm-sized Bronze Shard. Its edges were sharp, bearing a coarse texture. The profound bronze undertone cast a cold, muted matte glow under the faint twilight remaining in the courtyard. Densely packed dark gold patterns were frozen upon it, resembling etchings of an ancient starry sky, silent and mysterious. On the surface of the shard, a few dark red blood droplets that had not yet dried were very slowly blurring and seeping along the edges of those abstruse patterns. That was the vital heart's blood he had coughed up when he forcefully drove the ancient mirror and his soul suffered trauma. At this moment, the shard was dim and lusterless, cold and silent. Like a genuine piece of abandoned scrap copper. "Hah..." Qin Lie twitched his cracked lips, letting out a hoarse gasp. It immediately triggered a heart-rending fit of coughing. Dark red bloody foam spilled from the corners of his lips once more, dripping down his chin and blooming into small dark spots on the dust-covered ground. The lingering pain of his soul being forcefully torn apart still repeatedly pierced and churned inside his skull like tens of thousands of red-hot steel needles. With every breath, his eardrums buzzed, carrying a heavy sense of pressure. The price was disastrous. But... It was worth it! He closed his eyes, leaning wearily against the cold wall. Deep within his consciousness, those twisted, ancient, cold, and abstruse shattered runes were as clear as brand-new red-hot burn marks. Reflection! Analyze! Trace Source! Reconstruct! They hovered silently, emitting a desolate aura that pierced through illusions and pointed straight to the origin. This was the key he had traded for with his soul's trauma! A key capable of prying open destiny and peering into the origin of martial arts! "Hah..." He let out a long, exceedingly slow breath of turbid air. The breath carried a thick, bloody stench, forming a brief mist of white in the cold air. He forcefully suppressed the sharp stinging pain deep in his soul and the extreme physical weakness. His gaze refocused on the Bronze Shard in his palm. Cold, heavy, silent. Yet Qin Lie knew its power was far more than simply releasing a wisp of warmth or providing a faint perception. Its true core was the heaven-defying power of "Reflection" and "Reconstruction"! The family-inheriting Boulders Formula! This thought struck like lightning in the dark night, violently cleaving open his chaotic consciousness. Fragments of his past life's memories surged up. The Zhenbei Estate's foundational inheritance cultivation technique. Lower-tier Yellow Grade. Crude, simple, and even somewhat clumsy. Its only advantage was being upright and steady, focusing on tempering muscles, bones, and skin, while nourishing the foundation of vital energy and blood. The circulation route was extremely basic, involving only the twelve coarsest and widest main meridians. It guided the stray Yuan Qi between heaven and earth into the body, circulated it along that simple path, and finally converged it into the dantian Qi Ocean to nourish and strengthen it. For ordinary Martial Artists, this was the cornerstone of enlightenment. But for him right now... His dantian was shattered like a glazed vessel smashed by a heavy hammer; deep within the spiderweb-like cracks, dark green corrosive toxins lurked. His meridians were broken inch by inch and twisted, resembling riverbeds ravaged by a storm, choked with purplish-black toxic sludge. By all logic, let alone running a cultivation technique, even drawing the slightest wisp of the gentlest heaven and earth Yuan Qi into his body would be seeking death! The Yuan Qi would merely race wildly along the fractured meridians like a herd of runaway wild horses, instantly tearing his already near-collapse remnant body completely apart! Yet... Beneath Qin Lie's lowered eyelids, that pair of eyes suddenly turned as sharp as a cold blade drawn from its scabbard! Deep within the frozen cold pool, a desperate, reckless flame burned fiercely! Logic? Living a second life, the key Qin Lie held in his hand was precisely the one to shatter logic! This ancient mirror shard could "reflection" the most minute injuries and surviving vitality within his body. It could "reconstruct" that crude Boulders Formula! Why couldn't it... forcefully carve a path of survival out of a martial arts dead end for this ruined body judged to be trash?! Even if every step of this path trod on the edge of a knife, leading perhaps to an even deeper hell! He would still charge through it! Without the slightest hesitation. Qin Lie closed his eyes once again. Enduring the rampant stinging pain in his skull and the heavy physical exhaustion, he gathered all his remaining mental power, twisting it like an invisible giant hand into a thread of toughness to the extreme. Cautiously yet unswervingly, he reached out toward the Bronze Shard in his palm. His target pointed straight at the complex dark-gold patterns in the core region, which had just been stained by his heart's blood! The instant his intent made contact— Hum! A very faint tremor, perceptible only to the soul, came from inside the shard. Cold! Profound! Carrying the indifferent will to pierce through all things! An invisible, cold power of perception, like a ripple stirred by a stone thrown into a dead silent deep pool, fed right back! It was no longer the warmth from before. It was the eye of "Reflection"! Qin Lie's mind chilled. He immediately guided this cold power of perception not toward his battered body, but straight into the depths of his own mind! His intent highly concentrated. In his past life's memories, that cultivation route diagram of the Boulders Formula—simple to the point of being crude—was clearly conjured up in his mind! The twelve withered main meridians, like rudimentary ditches dug into barren land, took shape within his consciousness. Guiding Qi, circulating, returning to the origin. The route was straight and flat, the nodes sparse, and the Qi upright, steady, and entirely devoid of sharpness. Like a true stubborn stone, heavy and sluggish. The very moment this simple conjured diagram took shape in Qin Lie's consciousness! A sudden transformation occurred! The bronze ancient mirror shard in his palm... lit up without warning! Hum—!!! A tremor, stronger and clearer than any previous one, violently erupted from the core of the shard! It was no longer a faint hum. Instead, it sounded like a beast slumbering for eternity letting out a low, awakening roar! On the surface of the shard, those complex dark-gold patterns stained with his heart's blood suddenly burst forth with brilliant radiance! It was no longer a gold-molten flow! Rather, it was as if it had gained life! Countless dark-gold rays of light, as fine as strands of hair, burst forth from those abstruse and unpredictable patterns like spirits breaking free from shackles. They were not scattered and unorganized releases. Instead, in the void an inch above the shard, they crazily intertwined, swirled, and reassembled at a speed surpassing the limits of naked-eye capture! Qin Lie felt his mind go "boom"! That crude cultivation route diagram of the Boulders Formula he had conjured was violently "yanked" away from his consciousness by an irresistible, cold, and grandiose force! Like humble adobe thrown into a boiling cosmic furnace! Those twelve withered main meridian phantoms were instantly completely enveloped and swallowed by countless gushing dark-gold light streams! The mirror's radiance transformed at this moment into the most precise carving knife in heaven and earth! The most merciless eye of rules! The power of "Reflection" was fully deployed! Qin Lie's consciousness felt as though it had been forcefully elevated, "seeing" clearly into the interior of the cultivation diagram wrapped by the light streams with an attitude akin to a deity looking down upon ants! The crude lines were infinitely magnified and analyzed. Those minute, capillary-like hidden meridian branches completely ignored by the original technique were rendered in meticulous detail under the eye of reflection! The fragile nodes on the meridian walls, the sluggish vortexes during Yuan Qi circulation, the massive energy loss at route turns... all subtle flaws and every wasted corner of potential had nowhere to hide under the cold radiance of the ancient mirror! "Analyze" followed closely behind! The dark-gold light streams began to crazily outline, modify, add, and delete on the infinitely magnified cultivation diagram, like a spiritual brush in the hand of a supreme rune Grandmaster! Rip! A main meridian route that originally led straight to the shattered dantian was forcefully severed in the middle by the light streams like a sharp scalpel! The fracture point was cleverly twisted and turned, narrowly dodging the area of dark green toxic sludge at the dantian's core that represented destruction. At the same time, an extremely minute hidden meridian branch connected to the visceral region, which had originally been completely ignored, was abruptly lit up and forcefully widened! Hum! A crucial yet inefficient Yuan Qi circulation node was ruthlessly erased by the light streams! In its place, a more complex and exquisite light-and-shadow structure, resembling a miniature stellar vortex, was precisely embedded along the route, emitting the majestic aura of efficient intake and discharge! Boom! The core artistic conception of the entire cultivation diagram—that pure, heavy feeling of being a "boulder"—underwent a heaven-turning transformation under the cold and merciless analysis and reconstruction of the ancient mirror! A trace of unyielding, biting sharpness, like a dormant mountain wishing to pierce the vault of heaven, was forcefully injected! It remained heavy, yet no longer clumsy and sluggish! It carried an oppressed-to-the-extreme, violent sense of power yearning to tear apart all shackles! The power of "Reconstruction" erupted to the extreme! The dark-gold light streams waved and danced wantonly within that boiling void of light and shadow, like a mad creator! Brand-new, more complex and abstruse routes that better fit the rhythm of heaven and earth were constructed and connected out of thin air! Seventeen! A full seventeen brand-new hidden meridian routes, like the veins of stars, were forcefully outlined out of nothingness by the light streams! They cleverly interlaced and connected among the original twelve main meridians, injecting brand-new sinews filled with destruction and vitality into the withered skeleton! The complexity of the new cultivation diagram instantly skyrocketed tenfold and more! The densely packed routes, like a star map at the dawn of the universe, crazily swirled and reassembled within the dark-gold light streams, and finally... slammed into a definitive shape! All the radiance abruptly reeled inward! In the void, a brand-new cultivation route diagram—emitting an ancient, heavy aura yet concealing an unyielding sharpness—floated clearly above the ancient mirror shard like a brand imprinted by heaven and earth! It was no longer a simple outline of lines. Instead, it was a three-dimensional, dynamic, and glowing human meridian star map radiating faint yet real energy fluctuations! Countless tiny pale-gold light spots slowly flowed like stars along routes dazzlingly complex to behold. Every single flow faintly stirred the surrounding weak heaven and earth Yuan Qi, emitting a deep and heavy resonance! The crude stubborn stone had already been reconstructed into... an archaic divine mountain harboring the sharpness to cleave heaven and earth! Qin Lie snapped his eyes open! His pupils shrank to pinpricks due to extreme shock! He stared fixedly at the brand-new cultivation light-and-shadow diagram floating above the ancient mirror shard and slowly rotating! His heart violently slammed against his fragile chest cavity as if struck by the battle hammer of an archaic titan! A shudder originating from the deepest part of his soul swept through his entire body like an electric current! Optimization? No! This was not optimization at all! This was... shedding mortal bones and changing the mortal frame! Turning stone into gold! This was... defying Yin and Yang and recreating heaven and earth! The ability of this Bronze Shard was ten thousand times more terrifying than his wildest delusions! It actually... forcefully carved through the rock face and opened up an unprecedented, overbearing path of survival at the bottom of the martial arts abyss for this ruined body eroded by poison and condemned by a shattered dantian! Elation surged like volcanic magma suppressed for ten thousand years, instantly smashing through the dikes of reason! He no longer hesitated in the least! His intent, like the most devout fanatic, locked fiercely onto that floating brand-new cultivation diagram emanating a destructive aura where heaviness and sharpness intertwined! Forcefully memorizing it! Squeezing out the very last bit of soul power to brand it! Those star-track routes despairingly complex, those seventeen newly added hidden meridian acupoints like stellar nodes, that brand-new energy circulation method carrying the rhythm of crumbling mountains and splitting earth... every single detail was deeply engraved into the deepest part of his consciousness like red-hot black-iron brands! When the very last trace of light and shadow was firmly locked down by his soul, the floating light-and-shadow diagram suddenly dissolved, turning into specks of flowing starlight that merged into the ancient mirror. The radiance on the surface of the shard also completely dimmed accordingly, leaving only a faint warmth resembling dying embers. Yet Qin Lie felt as though his skull had been shoved into a furnace on the verge of explosion. Forcefully memorizing such a complex, abstruse cultivation method containing the supreme principles of heaven and earth placed a burden on him—having just suffered severe soul trauma—akin to carrying a mountain. The sharp pain nearly tore his consciousness apart. Yet he didn't care in the least! His gaze was as scorching as two burning meteors! He lowered his head to look at the shard in his palm that had once again returned to stillness and coldness. The pads of his fingers unconsciously rubbed the cold, rough dark-gold patterns, as if touching the very source of power. Then. He slowly closed his eyes. And took a deep breath. The cold air mixed with mud, blood, and the stench of decay poured into his lungs, bringing a trace of cruel sobriety. It was time! Following the cultivation route of the brand-new, thoroughly transformed Boulders Formula (perhaps it should be called the Zhenbei Divine Mountain Strength) branded deep within his soul, he began his very first attempt! Step one, guiding Qi! Banishing all distracting thoughts, his mind sank into a void of desolate ice plains. His intent, like the toughest spider silk, cautiously extended into the void surrounding his body. Sensing the stray, imperceptible Yuan Qi particles between heaven and earth. For someone who was once a Peak Martial Master, this should have been as natural as breathing. But right now, his meridians were broken inch by inch, his dantian shattered, and his body was like a sieve full of holes. The moment his intent dispersed, it was like a clay ox entering the sea, difficult to gather. It even stirred the stagnant toxins within his body, bringing wave after wave of bone-chilling, piercing cramps. "Hmph..." Qin Lie let out a muffled groan, beads of cold sweat instantly oozing from his temples, converging into streams that slid down his pale cheeks. Yet his eyes remained as cold as iron and as firm as a boulder. Once, twice, thrice... His intent was like a fisherman casting nets in a violent thunderstorm, trying over and over again amidst the chaotic currents of energy. Ten times... twenty times... fifty times... The stinging pain in his soul intensified, and his body trembled slightly from over-concentration. Just at the critical tipping point where he was about to be swallowed by exhaustion and excruciating pain— Finally! A wisp of heaven and earth Yuan Qi particles, so faint as to be almost imperceptible and carrying a cooling aura, was laboriously captured and drawn in by his inhumanly tenacious intent! Like catching the first wisp of... faint starlight in an endless dark abyss! Without the slightest hesitation! He immediately followed the starting route of the Zhenbei Divine Mountain Strength—that new route reconstructed by the ancient mirror, completely bypassing the shattered dantian, and bizarrely starting near his heart, right next to the dark purple "Purple Heart Bone-Corroding Poison" toxin source blemish! Cautiously, he guided this wisp of Yuan Qi particles—so faint it seemed it might extinguish at any second—into his body! The moment the Yuan Qi entered his body! "Ugh-ah—!!!" A suppressed-to-the-extreme death-rattle shriek, squeezed from the depths of a dying beast's throat, violently burst from Qin Lie's mouth! Pain! An excruciating pain beyond description by words! A hundredfold, a thousandfold more violent than any agony he had previously endured! The seemingly faint wisp of Yuan Qi particles, the moment it entered his fractured, twisted meridians covered in toxic blemishes, was like molten lava pouring into a glass pipe full of ice-crack patterns! Rip—! It felt as though tens of millions of red-hot steel needles were ruthlessly stabbing along that newly "carved" route into his fragile meridian walls! Stabbing into the flesh and bones along the way that had been repeatedly eroded by toxins and were already fragile beyond endurance! Ice and fire intertwined! Destruction and rebirth collided! The weak energy impact contained within the Yuan Qi particles themselves instantly clashed, annihilated, and devoured the dead qi of the "Purple Heart Bone-Corroding Poison" and the residual corrosive power of the "Soul-Dispersing Severed Vein Wine" accumulated within his body in the most intense and cruel manner! Although the new cultivation route was exquisite and avoided the core of the deadliest poison nest, the regions it passed through were similarly riddled with holes and were death zones repeatedly ravaged by poison! This wisp of Yuan Qi particles was like a single spark falling into a fuel depot! It detonated with a boom! The rampant energy currents crazily clashed and tore at each other within the narrow, fragile "channel"! Qin Lie's body convulsed violently like a ruined puppet gripped by an invisible giant hand. Countless twisted, centipede-like dark blue and black patterns instantly bulged on the surface of his skin—the concrete manifestation of energy running wild and out of control in his broken meridians! Cold sweat gushed out like a broken dam, instantly soaking his thin garments and rapidly turning freezing cold in the biting air. His teeth chattered audibly, his lower lip already chewed to shreds, and blood mixed with cold sweat and saliva dripped uncontrollably down his chin. The lingering pain of his soul being torn apart had not yet dissipated, and this torture of his flesh being torn apart inch by inch and repeatedly scoured by violent energy instantly dragged him into the abyss of conscious collapse! No! He must never give up! A terrifying blood-red light erupted in Qin Lie's eyes! Like an archaic beast driven to the edge of a cliff with nowhere left to retreat! He clutched the Bronze Shard, which still radiated a final trace of lingering warmth, in a death grip. As if drawing cold willpower and... the final strength to keep him going from it! Enduring the inhuman agony that could instantly drive an ordinary person mad, his intent acted like a helmsman steering through monstrous waves, firmly controlling that wisp of violently explosive Yuan Qi particles! Following the despairingly complex star-track route of the Zhenbei Divine Mountain Strength, bit by bit, with extreme difficulty, he pushed it forward! Every tug of his intent felt like scraping his own bone marrow with a red-hot, blunt blade! Yet with every advance, that violently explosive wisp of Yuan Qi particles was forcibly "tamed" by a fraction amidst this purgatorial process of painful "pioneering"! It was assimilated and compressed by a certain heavy, condensed, unyielding sharpness and destructive rhythm contained within the new route! At the same time, wherever the Yuan Qi particles passed, though bringing destructive and extreme pain, it also acted like the most overbearing furnace fire, savagely burning, scouring, and annihilating a portion of the dark purple "Purple Heart Bone-Corroding Poison" toxins clinging to the meridian walls! Though the amount of toxin annihilated each time was minuscule, like a drop in the ocean, that bone-deep, maggot-of-the-bone, bone-chilling dead qi was indeed... weakened by a fraction! Pain and purification! Destruction and rebirth! On this path of desperation, full of thorns and blazing flames forcefully carved open by the ancient mirror, it played out in the most cruel and direct manner! Qin Lie was like stubborn iron thrown into the furnace of heaven and earth. His body was the fuel, his soul the fire. Every single minute and second, he endured torment and refinement that surpassed the limits of life. Time lost its scale. There was only endless pain and the faint yet unswervingly resolute advance of his intent. How much time passed, he did not know. It felt like trudging through purgatory for a millennium. That wisp of violent Yuan Qi particles finally... driven by his supreme willpower along the complex star-tracks woven by the seventeen hidden meridians of the Zhenbei Divine Mountain Strength, was laboriously... pushed through a complete... minor heavenly cycle! The moment this wisp of preliminary "tamed" pale-gold Qi current—its volume shrunk by nearly two-thirds yet condensed and heavy tenfold and more, carrying a trace of faint yet genuine mountain-like heaviness and sharpness—finally sank according to the cultivation route... not into the shattered dantian! Instead, it sank into a location near his heart, right next to the dark purple toxin source blemish... a temporary "Qi aperture" specially carved out by the ancient mirror's reconstructed route, located deep within his visceral flesh! Hum! The very instant this pale-gold, condensed and heavy-as-mercury Qi current sank into that tiny Qi aperture! Qin Lie's entire body shook violently! As if struck by a faint thunderbolt originating from the netherworld! An indescribable, faint yet genuine... sense of power! Like the first gush of... turbid spring water carrying the scent of muddy earth welling up from the deepest depths of a completely parched and cracked desert! It instantly permeated from that tiny Qi aperture outward! Though it was as faint as a candle flame in a gale, liable to extinguish at any moment. It flowed with unmistakable clarity through his four limbs and hundred bones, which were near-exhaustion and repeatedly eroded by toxins! This power was heavy! Condensed! Carrying a foundation as stable as a boulder, yet implicitly containing the biting sharpness of a mountain wishing to pierce the vault of heaven and suppress the underworld! It was completely different from any True Essence he had cultivated in his past life! It was not stored in the dantian Qi Ocean. Instead, like the most tenacious seed, it planted itself deeply within the depths of his visceral flesh! Taking the fatal toxic blemish as its neighbor and this ruined body as its soil, it drew strength from pain and destruction, stubbornly... sprouting its very first wisp of... new vitality! Success! Qin Lie snapped his eyes wide open! Deep within his pupils, the endless pain was replaced by a dazzling brilliance of frantic, hard-won survival! Even though his body remained as weak and hollowed out as ever. Even though his soul still stung like a cracked piece of porcelain. Even though that wisp of pale-gold Qi current was so faint a single breath could blow it away. Yet... Power! Power belonging to Qin Lie himself! Within this ruined body judged to be "trash," eroded by poison, and condemned to death by a shattered dantian, upon the ruins of a martial arts dead end, he had personally—with supreme willpower and the power of the ancient mirror—reignited the very first... faint spark! He lowered his head to gaze at the piece of Bronze Shard in his palm that had completely returned to cold stillness, retaining only a final trace of faint warmth. The rough, cold edges pressed against his palm, bringing an exceptionally real tactile sensation. The corners of his mouth slowly and with extreme difficulty twitched upward. Pulling at his cracked, blood-stained lips, they outlined an expression—cold, weary to the extreme, yet containing infinite madness and unyielding hope. A broken mirror reveals true cultivation! The path through the desperate dead end... has opened! The cold moonlight had quietly climbed onto the dilapidated window lattice at some unknown point. The pale light, like thin frost, fell coldly on Qin Lie's face, which was covered in cold sweat, blood stains, and grime. He still leaned against the bone-chilling earthen wall. His body trembled uncontrollably due to the extreme consumption and the aftershocks of the agonizing pain. Every subtle twitch pulled at the newly opened meridian routes, bringing lingering, tearing pain. Yet deep within those lowered eyes. Beneath the frozen cold pool. A faint yet unyielding pale-gold light, like divine gold buried deep within the netherworld's subterranean fires, after being forged in the furnace of pain and destruction, quietly... revealed its very first trace of... immortal sharpness. He slowly raised his lowered head.

Beneath the tangled strands of hair matted with blood and filth, those eyes gazed coldly out the window toward the pale, desolate winter moon.

A flick of his intent.

The Bronze Shard resting in his palm—retaining just a trace of warmth—seemed to sense its master's will.

With a motion so faint it was almost imperceptible...

It quivered.

A wisp of clear, lofty moonlight, impossible to detect with the naked eye, as if answering some call from primeval times, quietly converged into a thread.

Without a sound...

It sank directly into the abstruse, dark golden patterns etched upon the surface of the fragment. *** The night grew deeper.

A cold wind swept across the tiny courtyard, letting out a sharp, sobbing whistle that only heightened the desolate air.

Suddenly, the dilapidated wooden door emitted a microscopic, hesitant creak.

The sound was as thin as a mosquito's hum, but in the dead silence of the courtyard, it stood out with striking clarity.

Qin Lie leaned against the chilling earthen wall, his body still twitching slightly from the lingering pain, yet his eyelids snapped open a fraction.

A flash of cold light, sharp as a blade, instantly locked onto the source of the noise.

No murderous intent.

Only a sense of cautious, almost terrified prying.

The door was pushed open just enough for a single person to slip through sideways.

A hunchbacked, gaunt figure darted in swiftly, like a startled rat.

Then, with practiced stealth, he quickly pulled the broken wooden door shut behind him.

His movements carried the ingrained proficiency of someone who had walked on eggshells for years.

In the bleak moonlight, the intruder's outline was barely sketched out.

It was an old man.

His posture was severely hunched, as though the heavy burdens of life had broken his spine.

He wore a coarse, gray servant's tunic, washed to a pale hue and covered in layers of patches.

His withered hands were tucked tightly inside his sleeves, as if shielding something precious.

His hair was thin and gray, tied into a meager topknot at the back of his head and secured with a polished wooden hairpin.

His face was a web of deep gullies, etched with the weathering of time and endless sorrow.

Yet, a pair of turbid old eyes swept across the courtyard, gleaming with a vigilance entirely unsuited to his frail appearance, along with... a deeply buried worry.

When those dim eyes, aided by the moonlight, fell upon the figure huddled in the corner against the earthen wall—covered in blood and filth, breathing his last—

The old man's hunched frame suffered a violent shudder!

His clouded eyes widened instantly, filled with incredulous horror and... undisguised heartbreak.

"You... Young Lord?!"

A muffled, tear-choked, hoarse cry squeezed out from the old man's chapped lips.

He stumbled forward, practically hurling himself toward Qin Lie.

His twig-thin hands, covered in calluses and cracks, trembled as they reached out toward Qin Lie's blood-stained cheek, only to yank themselves back at the very last second as if scalded.

It was as if he feared that his mere touch would inflict even more pain on the bruised and battered young man before him.

"Good heavens... How... how could they be so cruel! How could they treat you like this?!" The old man's voice broke, and turbid tears instantly welled up, winding down the deep gullies of his face.

"This old servant... this old servant is late! I am late!"

With a dull thud, he dropped directly to his knees on the cold, filthy ground, bowing repeatedly before Qin Lie.

His forehead struck the hard floor with muffled thumps.

Qin Lie leaned against the wall, breathing heavily; every intake of air tugged at the stabbing pain of his newly opened meridians.

His icy gaze swept over the weeping old servant inch by inch, sharp as a scalpel.

Uncle Fu.

An old servant left behind by Qin Lie's birth mother—that gentle-natured yet ill-fated concubine of the Zhenbei Estate who had passed away long ago.

And within this massive, sprawling estate, one of the very few who might still hold a shred of lingering affection for him, the "good-for-nothing Young Lord."

Fragments of memories from his past life surged forward.

The estate overturned, his father killed in battle, his own life cast adrift... In the end, this loyal old servant had seemingly vanished without a trace during that cataclysmic upheaval, leaving behind not even a corpse.

Was it loyalty?

Or... ulterior motives?

In an estate where danger lurked at every turn, trust was often more fatal than the most potent poison.

Qin Lie's throat rolled as he suppressed the surging taste of blood and swallowed it down.

He needed confirmation.

He would use this Ancient Mirror, which had just granted him a shred of power, to cast a reflection!

He sank his consciousness inward.

Steeling himself against the sharp, lingering pain deep within his soul.

A wisp of will, faint to the point of imperceptibility, wound like the most covert spider's web around the warm Bronze Shard in his palm.

His target locked onto the old servant weeping on the ground!

"Reflection!"

Hum!

A tremor, so faint that only Qin Lie's soul could perceive it, echoed from within the fragment.

A cold, aloof perceptual force, resembling a freezing gale from the highest heavens, instantly fed back!

It pierced right through the old servant's hunched body, piercing through the facade of his weeping and wailing!

Qin Lie's "vision" shifted.

Uncle Fu was kneeling there.

Yet beneath the chilling "reflection" of the Ancient Mirror, the outline of his body blurred slightly.

In its place were several distinct, razor-sharp beams of "light"!

One was a dim, flickering grayish-white light like a candle in the wind, representing his decaying vitality and waning blood qi, akin to firewood about to burn out.

Another was a thick, unyielding dark red light resembling coagulated old blood, entangled around his heart and liver—the chronic, festering ailments left behind by a lifetime of bitter toil and bottled-up worry.

And the strongest, purest light of all!

It was a blazing, almost recklessly burning... bright yellow light!

This light originated from his heart!

Pure! Blazing! Without a single impurity!

It was filled with endless grief, self-reproach, worry, and... a loyalty close to that of a martyr!

This beam of bright yellow light pointed steadfastly, like a branded seal, in a single direction—toward Qin Lie!

Not a shred of gloom.

Not an ounce of falsehood.

Only pure, life-consuming... utter devotion!

Even as Qin Lie's perceptual scan swept across it, that bright yellow light flickered slightly, as though sensing something, growing even more blazing... and even more sorrowful?

Qin Lie's heart gave a fierce jolt!

The icy vigilance deep within his soul melted away in that instant, like snow beneath a blazing sun.

It was real!

This old servant's loyalty... was real!

It was the very last shred of... faint warmth belonging to his birth mother within this freezing estate.

He forcibly cut off the "reflection."

The stabbing pain in his soul instantly flared up.

Qin Lie let out a muffled groan as a trickle of fresh blood once again spilled from the corner of his mouth.

"Uncle... Uncle Fu..."

He forced the words out, his voice hoarse and dry like rubbing sandpaper.

"Get up... and speak..."

Those few short words seemed to exhaust the tiny fraction of strength he had just recovered.

Uncle Fu was still bowing when he heard that frail voice, his entire body stiffening abruptly.

He lifted his head, his tear-streaked, aged face a mix of pleasant surprise and deeper heartache.

"Young Lord! You... you can speak?! This old servant... this old servant will get up right now! Right now!"

He scrambled to prop himself up, his movements somewhat clumsy in his excitement.

His withered hand rubbed frantically against the worn, coarse fabric of his tunic, as if trying to wipe away some nonexistent filth.

Only then did he reach into his bosom with utmost care, holding a near-pious caution, and pull something out.

It was a small bundle wrapped layer upon layer in faded, grayish old oiled paper.

The edges of the oiled paper were frayed and worn, exuding an air of pathetic poverty.

Uncle Fu's withered fingers trembled as they peeled back the layers of paper that still carried his body heat.

His movements were exceedingly cautious, as though he were wrapping and unwrapping a peerless treasure.

Finally.

The oiled paper fell away.

Revealing what lay inside.

A hard flatbread, half the size of a palm, pitch-black, with rough edges, exuding a faint smell of scorching and... a vague hint of mold.

Alongside it was a tiny, inferior ceramic medicine bottle.

The bottle's surface was crude, lacking even a proper label; the words "Bruise Medicine" were scrawled crookedly across it in cheap ink.

"Young Lord..."

Uncle Fu's voice carried a heavy nasal tone and a cautious, ingratiating plea as he held both items in his hands like a drowning man clutching a straw, offering them to Qin Lie.

"This old servant... this old servant is useless, I couldn't get anything good... just... just this little bit of food, and... and this bottle of wound medicine. It's... a few days ago, when this old servant scraped his leg, I begged Old Woman Zhang in the kitchen for ages before she secretly spared a tiny bit for me... Please... please make do with a little..."

His clouded, old eyes looked at Qin Lie with hopeful expectation, mixed with deep self-reproach and shame.

As though failing to produce anything better was a grave sin on his part.

That hard flatbread was pitch-black and coarse, emitting a suspicious odor.

That inferior bruise medicine even had a stain of aged medicinal powder caked around the mouth of the bottle.

Thrown by the roadside, these two items probably wouldn't attract a second glance from even the most starving stray dog.

Yet at this moment.

In Qin Lie's eyes.

Beneath the pure, blazing light of bright yellow loyalty that the Ancient Mirror had just reflected—pointing straight to his heart.

These two wretched, mold-scented items...

Seemed to carry a... burning warmth.

He remained silent.

He did not reach out to take them immediately.

His icy gaze remained fixed like solid weight upon Uncle Fu's weather-beaten, sorrow-lined aged face.

"Uncle Fu..."

Qin Lie spoke again, his voice still hoarse, yet carrying an undeniable, piercing force.

"How is... the estate... right now?"

He did not look at the flatbread or the medicine bottle.

He cut straight to the core.

This old servant was his only and most reliable window to understand the true state of the estate at this moment.

Uncle Fu's hands, holding the flatbread and medicine bottle, gave a slight tremor.

The sorrow and ingratiating expression on his face instantly froze, replaced by a deeper worry and... fear.

He subconsciously glanced left and right, even though this tiny courtyard was so dilapidated that not even a rat would bother visiting.

Only then did he lower his voice, speaking rapidly with a weeping undertone:

"Young Lord, the estate... the estate is in complete chaos right now!"

"The Prince! The Prince, he..."

At the mention of the Zhenbei Estate's Qin Zhantian, Uncle Fu's voice choked up even more severely.

"The Prince's old wounds... suddenly acted up a few days ago! He coughed up so much blood! His face turned as white as paper!"

"The palace... people from the palace arrived immediately! They claimed His Majesty the Emperor was terribly worried and specially dispatched imperial physicians to treat him, and... and even sent the imperial Dragon Cavalry to 'escort' him!"

Uncle Fu's withered fingers clutched the bottle of inferior wound medicine so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Those people... they called it an escort, but... but they were fierce as demons! They surrounded 'Tingtao Courtyard,' where the Prince lived, tighter than an iron barrel! Even... even the old servants left behind by the Princess Consort were driven out!"

"The Prince... the Prince was hoisted onto a carriage by force and sent to the 'Quiet Mind Villa' in the northern suburbs to 'recuperate'! This old servant... this old servant peeked through the crack of the side gate, and the Prince, he... he couldn't even speak, just... just carried away like that!"

Uncle Fu's voice was filled with a sense of helplessness and profound grief.

Qin Lie leaned against the chilling wall, listening to Uncle Fu's tearful complaints without the slightest expression on his face.

Only deep within his lowered eyes, the bone-chilling cold light condensed wildly like a polar storm!

The Emperor!

Emperor Xia Hong!

What a fine "worried"!

What a fine "recuperate"!

This was clearly taking advantage of his illness to claim his life! It was pulling the firewood from beneath the cauldron! They were placing his father, Qin Zhantian—the towering pillar of the Zhenbei Estate—under virtual house arrest and complete control!

It had been the same in his past life!

His father was taken away to "recuperate," from then on news grew scarce, and by the time tragic word arrived from the Northern Frontier, they had never managed to meet again!

In this lifetime, such a venomous scheme had arrived so swiftly! So ruthlessly!

"And... and the properties!"

Uncle Fu wiped away an old tear, his voice filled with indignation.

"Second Uncle... and his mother, Lady Liu, taking advantage of the Prince's absence, are simply... simply acting lawlessly!"

"The blacksmith shop in the West City, the grain store on South Street, the two manors outside the city... these... these were all properties the Princess Consort brought over as part of her dowry back then! Now... now they've all used various pretexts to forcibly 'take them under temporary management' from the accounts department!"

"Zhao Gui! That black-hearted dog of a Zhao Gui!"

At the mention of Estate Steward Zhao Gui, Uncle Fu gnashed his teeth in hatred.

"He's nothing more than a vicious dog for the Second Branch! The old hands in those shops and manors, if any of them dared utter a single word of dissent, were either dispatched to do the most grueling and exhausting labor, or given a pretext and driven straight out! The ones brought in to replace them... are all loyal confidants of the Second Branch, and... and people planted by the Chancellor's Estate!"

Uncle Fu's withered chest heaved violently, clearly provoked to great anger.

"They... they're trying to hollow out the foundation of the estate bit by bit, Young Lord!"

Hearing this, Qin Lie felt a bone-chilling coldness settle in his heart.

NIBBLING away like silkworms.

Boiling a frog in warm water.

Second Branch Qin Xiao and his mother, along with Chancellor Li Yuanfu standing behind them—their actions were indeed fast! And vicious!

"What about... the estate guards?" Qin Lie breathed heavily, asking the most crucial question.

Military force!

In this world where martial arts reigned supreme, and within this treacherous estate, without military force, everything was empty talk!

The estate's garrisoned strength was one of his most vital reliances for turning the tables in the future!

At the mention of the guards, the grief and anger on Uncle Fu's face grew even thicker, mixed with a sliver of deep helplessness.

"The guards... sigh..."

He let out a heavy sigh.

"People's hearts... have scattered, Young Lord!"

"It was fine when the Prince was here. But with the Prince's departure, and this mess kicked up by the Second Branch..."

"Those capable, spirited old guards were either given pretexts by the Second Branch to be transferred to guard the storehouses and stables—places without oil or profit yet exhausting—or... or their hearts grew cold, and they resigned and left of their own accord."

"As for the ones left behind... sigh, either they're old slackers just idling about waiting for their pay, or... they've been bought off by that dog Zhao Gui, turning into eyes, ears, and thugs for the Second Branch!"

Uncle Fu's voice was full of impotence.

"Nowadays, the ones patrolling the estate at night are all unfamiliar faces with shifty eyes, though they act mighty deferential toward the Second Branch... This old servant... this old servant feels terrified just looking at them!"

Uncle Fu stood hunched over, holding the moldy flatbread and inferior medicine bottle, his clouded old eyes brimming with tears as he gazed pleadingly at Qin Lie huddled in the corner.

The pale moonlight illuminated his deeply furrowed face, adding an even greater layer of desolation.

"Young Lord... please... eat something... and this medicine..."

His voice trembled with a weeping tone, "You're hurt so badly... if you don't eat something... how will you ever endure..."

Qin Lie breathed heavily.

With every intake of breath, his newly opened meridians sent waves of tearing pain, like countless small, red-hot knives scraping inside his body.

The stinging pain of his soul lingered like a maggot on rotting flesh.

The news brought by Uncle Fu was like freezing meltwater poured over the tiny spark of hope that had just ignited in his chest.

The state of the estate was even worse than he had imagined.

His father was under house arrest, his life and death unknown.

Properties were being nibbled away by the joint efforts of the Second Branch and the Chancellor's Estate, shaking his very foundations.

The garrison strength was divided and dispirited, either bought off or squeezed out, their loyalty deeply questionable.

As the nominal Young Lord, he was currently nothing more than a piece of meat on a chopping block; even this dilapidated courtyard would likely be torn to shreds by those lurking wolves at any moment.

Internal trouble and external aggression, surrounded on all sides!

A desperate situation within a desperate situation!

Yet.

Right beneath this suffocating, desperate pressure.

Beneath Qin Lie's lowered eyelids, within the depths of his icy pupils, that trace of pale golden light—like divine iron beaten by a heavy hammer—not only failed to extinguish, but grew... even more condensed! Even sharper!

Pressure?

A desperate situation?

The blood debts of his past life were a thousand times crueler than this!

He, Qin Lie, was an evil ghost who had crawled right back out of hell!

What did this bit of pressure, this desperate situation, amount to?!

Perfect!

He would use this pressure, this desperate situation, to temper his newly forged edge! To refine that... wisp of indomitable blood qi fire that had just been ignited!

Slowly, he lifted his head.

His face remained stained with blood and filth, pale as paper.

Yet his eyes, looking at Uncle Fu, were no longer a dead, frozen void.

Instead, they resembled the bottom of a glacial pool into which a red-hot branding iron had been plunged.

The chill remained, but it was now laced with... a scorching will capable of incinerating everything!

"Uncle Fu..." Qin Lie's voice was hoarse and dry, yet carried a peculiar piercing power. Every single word felt as though it exhausted his last ounce of strength as it slammed against the cold ground.

"Put the things... down."

Uncle Fu froze, his hands holding the flatbread and medicine bottle hanging suspended in mid-air.

"Yo... Young Lord?"

Qin Lie did not explain.

He laboriously raised a hand caked in blood and dirt.

He pointed toward a dusty broken clay jar half-concealed by debris in the corner.

"Put them... there."

Uncle Fu followed the direction of Qin Lie's finger, his clouded old eyes full of confusion.

Yet he asked no further questions.

For this Young Lord whom he had watched grow up, yet who had now fallen to such a miserable plight, Uncle Fu held nothing in his heart save for endless heartache and loyalty.

He hurriedly assented, carefully placing the pitch-black flatbread wrapped in oiled paper and the bottle of inferior "bruise medicine" gently inside the broken clay jar, treating them as if they were precious heirlooms.

Having done all this, he looked anxiously back at Qin Lie.

Qin Lie leaned against the wall, taking several heavy, ragged breaths before speaking once more.

His voice dropped even lower, carrying an unquestionable, stony hardness.

"Uncle Fu... listen to me."

Uncle Fu immediately straightened his hunched back a fraction, fixing his dim old eyes intently on Qin Lie and nodding heavily.

"This old servant... this old servant is listening! Give your orders, Young Lord!"

"First..."

Qin Lie gasped, speaking one word at a time, "Today... the fact that you came here... bury it in your stomach! To anyone... including... anyone you consider reliable... you are not allowed... to mention a word!"

Uncle Fu's entire body went rigid. The muscles on his withered face twitched as he nodded heavily.

"This old servant... this old servant understands! I won't say a word, even if I die!"

"Second..." Qin Lie's gaze was like an icy awl piercing Uncle Fu's face, "My injuries... my condition... are not allowed... to be leaked... to anyone, not even half a word!"

"Yes! Yes! This old servant remembers! Not a single word!"

Uncle Fu's voice carried a terrified firmness.

"Third..."

Qin Lie's breathing grew more urgent, his chest heaving violently as if every single word required immense exertion.

After pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he continued, his voice carrying a bone-chilling frost:

"Help me... keep an eye on Zhao Gui!"

"Who he sees... what he says... where he goes... especially... who he contacts outside the estate!"

A flash of cold light crossed Qin Lie's eyes.

"Especially... people from the Chancellor's Estate... and the Second Prince's side!"

"Remember as much as you can... remember everything!"

Uncle Fu's withered body gave a fierce start.

Zhao Gui!

That vicious slave who now held towering power in the estate and was kicking them while they were down!

And he wanted him to keep an eye on the Chancellor's Estate and the Second Prince?!

This... the danger involved in this...

A trace of fear flickered across Uncle Fu's clouded old eyes.

Yet when he saw Qin Lie's icy, exhausted eyes burning with an unyielding flame of fire—

That trace of fear was instantly replaced by a fiercer, near-tragic loyalty!

His withered hand clenched tightly against the hem of his tunic, his knuckles turning white.

"Young Lord... rest assured!"

Uncle Fu's voice carried a desperate, reckless resolve, lowered to a bare whisper.

"Although... this old servant is useless, even... even if I have to risk this old life of mine! I will definitely... definitely keep a tight watch on that dog for you!"

Seeing the ball of pure, blazing bright yellow loyalty once more burning fiercely in Uncle Fu's eyes, Qin Lie slowly, with the slightest movement, nodded.

"Go..."

He closed his eyes, his voice dropping low as if he had exhausted his very last shred of strength.

"Be careful... don't let... anyone see you..."

Watching Qin Lie in his ultimate state of frailty, Uncle Fu felt fresh tears well up.

He bowed deeply, striking his forehead against the floor with a dull thud.

"Young Lord... please... take good care of yourself! This old servant... this old servant will find a way to come see you in a couple of days!"

With that, he dared not linger a moment longer. Like when he had arrived, he kept his body hunched, slipping toward the door with swift, silent agility.

He carefully pulled open a crack, peering vigilantly outside for a moment.

Making sure no one was there, he darted out swiftly like a rat blending into the shadows.

The dilapidated wooden door gently clicked shut once more.

A muffled clack rang out.

The courtyard plunged back into dead silence.

Save for the sobbing of the cold wind sweeping through the gaps.

Qin Lie remained leaning against the chilling earthen wall.

His eyes tightly shut.

His chest heaving violently, every breath sounding like a broken bellows.

Cold sweat had long since soaked his thin garments, freezing in the chill wind and bringing a biting cold.

The stinging pain of his soul intertwined with the physical agony, clinging to him like bone-gnawing maggots.

He knew not how much time had passed.

His tightly closed eyes snapped open!

Deep within his pupils, the exhaustion and weakness were completely swept away!

In their place stood a supreme calmness resembling millennia-old glacial ice, and beneath that ice... a blazing fire of vengeance capable of incinerating the entire world!

Laboriously, inch by inch, he dragged his body.

Disregarding the tearing pain coursing through his body.

He crawled over to the broken clay jar.

Reaching out a hand caked in blood, filth, and mud, he snatched up the bottle of inferior "bruise medicine" from inside.

The crude ceramic bottle felt cold and rough.

He pulled out the poorly fitted wooden cork.

A pungent odor mixing cheap herbs and a faint moldy stench wafted over him.

Qin Lie didn't even frown.

He raised his head without hesitation.

Aiming the mouth of the bottle at his lips.

He flipped his wrist!

Splash!

The grayish-brown, inferior medicinal powder mixed with unknown particles inside the bottle was dumped straight down his throat in one go!

The powder hit his tongue, tasting intensely bitter with an indescribable earthy and moldy flavor.

It instantly irritated his throat, making it itch so badly he almost wanted to vomit.

Yet he clamped his teeth down hard, forcibly swallowing those coarse grains of powder!

Like swallowing crushed gravel!

Immediately following this, he grabbed the pitch-black, rock-hard flatbread wrapped in oiled paper.

It was still flecked with dust from the clay jar.

Without even looking at it, he opened his mouth and bit down hard with all his might!

Crunch!

The hardened crust practically bruised his teeth.

A heavy burnt taste and faint moldy odor spread across his mouth.

The flavor was stomach-turning.

Yet Qin Lie chewed as though he were tasting the most exquisite delicacy in the world.

His gaze was ice-cold and utterly focused.

One bite.

Then another.

Using every ounce of his remaining strength, he tore into it.

Chewing.

Swallowing.

Forcing those mold-tainted, bitter morsels down—alongside boundless hatred and chilling, resolute will—he...

Swallowed them ruthlessly!