The Great Land of Jiuzhou has, since ancient times, been home to legends of various gods, immortals, demons, and monsters. In the primordial era, humans cleared land and sowed seeds, constantly harassed by demons and monsters, and harmed by fierce beasts, utterly incapable of protecting themselves.
Later, with great resolve and wisdom, humans gradually came to understand the transformations of Yin and Yang, the sequence of the ten energies, and the rules of heaven and earth. They created the methods of Tu Zhen, strengthening their vital energy, extending their lifespan, and even acquiring various divine abilities such as flying into the sky and burrowing into the earth. Hundreds of millions of years passed in this manner, as the various laws and transformations were passed down from generation to generation, and Tu Zhen sects continuously emerged. Having undergone the ruthless trials and baptism of time, those that have survived to this day are, without exception, the giants of the Xian Dao and the titans of the Mo Men, possessing formidable power.
The world of Tu Zhen is not something mortals can enter; most humans still suffer the various pains of birth, aging, sickness, and death. Yet, among billions of people, only a select few possess Xian Yuan, gaining a slight chance to cultivate.
Yangjia Town of the Dahang Imperial Dynasty is one such example, a small town located in the border region that, every ten years, has an opportunity to enter the Tu Zhen world.
The Dahang Imperial Dynasty has hundreds of millions of people, making it a great nation within Jiuzhou. Its territory spans tens of thousands of li, a vast national expanse encompassing countless mountains and rivers, and innumerable living beings and subjects. The people of this nation have always revered martial arts, and their customs are robust and fierce; everyone cultivates their blood qi. Even ordinary commoners can ride strong horses and draw tough bows.
A small town located on the southwestern border of the Dahang Nation, named Yangjia Town, has three to four thousand inhabitants. Yangjia Town is situated in a remote and secluded area. The townspeople organized themselves into merchant caravans, and for years, they have continuously transported local goods to other places for trade, earning substantial profits.
Everyone in Yangjia Town shares the surname Yang, and they are divided into nine branches. The older branches have over a thousand clansmen, while the newly established ones have several hundred. The people of Yangjia Town were willing to settle in this distant, wild, and desolate land solely because an ancestor of the Yang family once shared a deep, karmic connection with a true disciple of the Immortal Dao giant, Taiyi Men.
That true disciple of Taiyi Men made a promise that every ten years, the sect would send disciples to Yangjia to take three descendants of the Yang family as outer disciples of Taiyi Men. If, during the selection, a descendant lacked the destiny for immortal cultivation, Taiyi Men would still bestow spirit pills and precious jewels upon them before sending them home. If a selected individual possessed superior aptitude, they could advance further, gaining the opportunity to become an inner disciple.
This once-in-a-decade immortal destiny caused the Yang family to cling to this wild and desolate land, gradually prospering and multiplying, their population flourishing. Today, this tradition has been passed down to the nineteenth generation, and the population has grown to several thousand.
The people of Yangjia were both merchants and farmers, gradually forming a village-town. The few slots for outer disciples were extremely precious, so the Yang family carefully selected candidates. Traditionally, the various branches would take turns discussing and nominating candidates, with the final decision resting with the clan head.
***
To the northwest of Yangjia Town stood a dilapidated earthen house. On three sides outside the door, it was surrounded by a bamboo fence, and inside, a flock of chickens and ducks were noisily squawking. At this moment, a fourteen or fifteen-year-old youth, clutching a pile of clothes, ran out from the earthen room.
The youth had clear brows and bright eyes, but his physique appeared extremely frail.
This young man wanted to take some dirty clothes to the riverside to wash, and he was walking very quickly. Then, a woman emerged from the mud house. She looked about forty years old and seemed somewhat sickly. She ran towards the young man, calling out, “Ling’er, I can wash those clothes…”
“Mom, you’re not feeling well, Ling’er can wash them…”
The young man didn’t turn his head, merely called out, then dashed away.
The young man’s name was Yang Ling. When Yang Ling was young, his father died in an accident, leaving behind a widow and an orphan.
Yang Ling ran all the way to the small riverbank outside the town, exhausted and panting heavily.
The small river was called Qingliu River. The residents of Yangjia Town used it for drinking water, and it was also a playground for the children of Yangjia Town. Qingliu River was less than two *zhang* wide, and at its deepest point, the water only reached one’s back.
The riverbank was all fine sand, pure white and soft, and crabs and river mussels often appeared there, making it the best place for children to play. Yang Ling walked to the riverbank, where six young men from the town were already playing.
“Look, the wild brat is here! Haha…” One of the young men playing saw Yang Ling and immediately let out a strange howl, causing everyone else to look over.
The six young men quickly ran over and surrounded Yang Ling, pointing and laughing gleefully.
An expression of extreme disgust appeared on Yang Ling’s face, and he said coldly, “Get out of my way!”
Among them, a young man named Yang De flushed with anger, pointing a finger at Yang Ling’s nose: “Bastard, how dare you speak to this young master like that!” His eyes flashed with a fierce light.
Yang De was a year younger than Yang Ling and not tall. Simply because his father was in charge of the clan’s merchant caravan, his family had abundant wealth, and in the town, apart from the clan leader, his family was the richest. Wealth often bred a sense of superiority, and Yang De naturally exuded a certain arrogance; young men his age dared not offend him.
“You’re the bastard!” Yang Ling leaped up and grabbed Yang De’s collar, his fists clenched tight, his eyes spitting fire.
Yang De’s eyes turned cold, and he said contemptuously, “Little mongrel, you have a death wish!” He grabbed Yang Ling’s right arm with both hands and lifted it. Yang Ling felt a surge of power from the arm, and his wrist throbbed with pain. He felt as if the world was spinning, and Yang De flung him to the ground.
With a disdainful expression, Yang De lifted his foot and stomped on Yang Ling’s chest, then spat a mouthful of saliva on his face, and said cruelly, “Dog mongrel, how dare you lay hands on me? You’re tired of living!”
The other five young men all chimed in: “Excellent! Brother De is already a fourth-level Blood Refinement master, this fool dares to challenge a rock with an egg – he’s just asking for trouble.”
“Of course, nine years ago, a Celestial Emissary said that Brother De had profound immortal roots, and that in three months, he would definitely succeed in the true selection of outer sect disciples, and by then, Brother De would be an immortal!”
The five of them flattered him profusely, and Yang De’s face was filled with smug satisfaction, as he raised his head and said proudly, “When I become an immortal, I certainly won’t forget to give you all some benefits.”
The five young men were overjoyed: “Many thanks, Brother De!”
Perhaps spurred on by Yang De’s empty promise, the five young men all stepped forward and kicked Yang Ling several times. Yang Ling had already been thrown down by Yang De, falling in a daze, and couldn’t get up for a long time. Already in pain, he then felt someone kicking him, and the pain made him roll on the ground.
The six men punched and kicked him, beating Yang Ling until he was battered and bleeding, only then did they laugh loudly and swagger away.
Yang Ling, who was naturally frail, was almost beaten unconscious. A long time after his attackers left, Yang Ling reluctantly crawled up from the ground. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and, with faltering steps, still made his way to the river to wash clothes.
As he washed the clothes, intense resentment welled up in Yang Ling's eyes.
"Yang De! What you did to me today, I will repay tenfold in the future! I'll make your whole shameless lot taste what it's like to be trampled underfoot!" Yang Ling swore to himself.
Yang Ling was afraid his mother would discover his injuries and worry, so he didn't return home until the sky was completely dark. In the dim light of evening, his mother wouldn't notice he had been beaten.
After hanging the clothes to dry, Yang Ling endured the pain all over his body and returned to his bed. He was both tired and in pain, and fell into a deep sleep the moment he closed his eyes.
In the middle of the night, a sudden clap of thunder boomed across the sky above Yangjia Town. Red lightning flashed across the entire sky, as if the heavens were collapsing.
The explosion startled all the residents in the town awake, filling them with solemn apprehension.
At this moment, in the pitch-black night sky, one white and two red streaks of strange light, like shooting stars, flashed across and instantly vanished. The night sky then returned to silence, and the townspeople gradually drifted back into peaceful sleep.
Not long after the explosion, a fist-sized ball of light, shimmering faintly, slowly descended from the sky, eventually landing in Yang Ling's house and, like a living thing, slipped through the window crack.
After the ball of light entered the bedroom, it transformed into a powerful white beam that surged into Yang Ling's nostril. Yang Ling, startled awake by the thunder, had just closed his eyes again. Half-asleep, he merely frowned slightly, showing no other reaction.
Early the next morning, Yang Ling's mother had already gone out to work in the vegetable garden.
After Yang Ling woke up, he stretched, but his whole body ached, and he couldn't help but let out a groan. He lay motionless on the bed all morning. He had been beaten by Yang De and his gang yesterday, but today, he ached even more than yesterday.
Suddenly, a voice appeared in Yang Ling's mind: "Such a pathetic kid, who beat you up? Have you thought about revenge?"
Yang Ling was terrified. He quickly turned his head to look around, but there was no one in the room. He was so scared his scalp tingled, and he let out a strange cry, "Ah!" He jumped out of bed, looking left and right, his expression a mix of shock and uncertainty.
"Don't be afraid, this True Person will not harm you," the voice spoke again.
"You... Who are you? Where are you?" Yang Ling's face was pale as he frantically looked around, trying to find the person speaking to him.
"You can't see this True Person, I am in your mind," the voice chuckled.
"How are you in my mind?" Yang Ling's face turned ashen as countless legends of ghosts and spirits flashed through his mind.
The voice let out a "Hmph." "I was originally a cultivator, but my body was destroyed by an enemy, so I could only temporarily house my primordial spirit in your body, kid. You don't need to be afraid. This True Person's primordial spirit is injured and can only hide from pursuers; I will absolutely not cause you any harm. On the contrary, this True Person will give you many benefits!"