Shuihua, the capital of Linhua stood still.
Black banners draped the palace walls. Bells tolled across the city, low and mournful, echoing like the steady heartbeat of a grieving nation. In the central plaza, where people once gathered to celebrate festivals and victories, now stood a statue, solemn and tall, carved from white stone. It bore the names of the fallen. Warriors. Healers. Brothers. Sons.
Zhang Wei stood quietly before it, his eyes tracing every name etched into the cold surface. Beside the monument, the tattered banner of the First Sky Battalion fluttered in the breeze, frayed at the edges, stained with blood, but still standing. Still proud.
All around him, people knelt. Soldiers with heads bowed low, healers clutching incense sticks, ministers in dark ceremonial robes, and ordinary citizens, men, women, children, everyone here for one thing: to remember.
The plague that had once haunted the capital, that had stolen loved ones in the night and turned homes into tombs, was now just a memory. Its grip had been broken. Peace had returned. But peace had come at a price.
The King stepped forward, his expression carved from sorrow. He looked older now grief written in the lines of his face. As he stood before the crowd, his voice rose, soft at first, but growing stronger with every word.
He spoke:
"Today, we gather not in defeat, but in honor.We speak not of despair, but of pride. The First Sky Battalion, led by the brave General Cao Jinggou, stood against the storm.They did not flinch. They did not falter. Because of them, Linhua still stands. Because of them, our children breathe without fear. The plague is gone. The enemy has fled. But the names carved here, these sons of Linhua, will remain forever etched in our hearts, and in the soul of this kingdom. They are not gone. They have become the shield of Linhua, eternal and unyielding. To the brave. To the fallen. To the sons of Linhua, your sacrifice shall never be forgotten."
The king removed his ceremonial sword, drove it gently into the earth before the statue, and bowed his head.
One by one, those gathered came forward, laying flowers, lighting incense, whispering names. Some wept openly. Some simply stood in silence, lips trembling with words they couldn't bring themselves to say.
Zhang Wei knelt, clutching a single lantern. He placed it gently beneath the statue, his hands shaking. His chest felt tight. His vision blurred.
He could still see them, General Cao's bloodstained armor. The Sky Battalion's last stand. The cries. The fire. The silence after.
His heart ached with guilt.
They had died. And he had lived.
And somewhere deep inside, a quiet voice asked: Was it enough? Could I have done more?
As the crowd dispersed, Zhang Wei lingered.
"If only I were strong… maybe they wouldn't have had to die."
Pan Qiang approached quietly but said nothing. Elder Fang put a hand on Zhang Wei's shoulder, offering silent support. But guilt clung to Zhang Wei like a heavy, suffocating cloak. That night, with tears long dried on his cheeks, he laid down in his chamber, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him and drifted to sleep, unable to escape the ache in his chest.
Zhang Wei found himself in an open field, the scent of fresh grass and blooming wildflowers in the air. In the distance, a modest wooden house stood. He walked toward it, confusion and calm battling inside him.
A soft wind passed as he reached the porch, where an old man sat, sipping tea. He had long, flowing white hair, a gentle smile, and wore plain robes. As Zhang Wei approached, the jade pendant around his neck glowed, brighter than ever before.
"You finally came," the old man said, eyes twinkling.
Zhang Wei blinked. "Who... are you?"
The old man chuckled. "Tell me your name first, young one."
"...Zhang Wei."
"A good name," he said with a nod. "I am called Yun Lao, also known as the Jade Saint."
Zhang Wei looked at the glowing jade pendant. "This pendant… what is it really?"
Yun Lao set his cup down, sighing. "A relic. And a curse. It once belonged to me... long ago. I was known not for battle, but healing. I traveled the world, helping all who needed me. I believed a doctor should never bloody the hands meant to save lives."
He looked at the horizon.
"But I was wrong."
"One day," Yun Lao continued, "a powerful force learned of the pendant I carried, an artifact containing knowledge beyond our era. It doesn't just hold wisdom... it absorbs it. Techniques, medicine, martial scripture, it remembers."
Zhang Wei's eyes widened.
Yun Lao's smile faded. "They came for it. Killed my family. My clan. And I, a man who had never raised a blade, couldn't stop them."
He held up his hand, and a faint golden light shimmered in his palm.
"I studied the martial arts within the pendant… but I was already old. I reached the Nascent Middle Realm, the peak of my potential."
Zhang Wei asked, "Nascent Middle Realm? What does that mean?"
Yun Lao nodded. "You've never cultivated, have you? Let me explain."
He waved his hand, and glowing words appeared in the air like constellations.
Yun Lao's voice resonated in the stillness of the room, his tone calm and measured, as he guided Zhang Wei through the foundations of cultivation.
"The path of cultivation is divided into nine primary realms," Yun Lao began, his eyes glimmering with the weight of experience. "The first is the Body Tempering Realm. This is where your physical body is strengthened. It isn't just about raw muscle; it's about fortifying your bones, organs, and every sinew of your flesh to withstand the stresses of higher realms. It is the foundation upon which all cultivation rests."
He paused, allowing the words to settle in before continuing.
"Once your body is tempered, you move into the Qi Gathering Realm. This stage is all about drawing the energy of the world around you, what we call 'Qi', into your body. At this stage, you begin to connect with the very essence of the earth, the air, and the heavens themselves. It's a crucial step, for without Qi, there can be no progress."
His gaze grew more focused as he spoke of the next realm.
"From there, the Foundation Establishment Realm follows. This is where the inner core of your cultivation is formed. At this stage, you begin to stabilize the Qi within you, building a solid foundation that will support future growth. It's here that your potential truly begins to unfold. Without a stable foundation, your progress beyond this stage is crippled."
Yun Lao's eyes softened as he spoke of the Core Formation Realm, a realm many cultivators aspired to but few reached.
"The Core Formation Realm is where the power within you condenses into something tangible. A golden core forms inside your body, a nucleus of power that can be expanded and refined. This is the realm where your true strength begins to take shape, and you gain a clear sense of your cultivation path."
He leaned forward, his voice lowering in reverence as he spoke of the Nascent Soul Realm.
"Next is the Nascent Soul Realm, where your soul itself manifests, separate from the physical body. It gains a will of its own, becoming a reflection of your inner self. This is the first true step into transcendence, where your consciousness begins to separate from the confines of flesh."
Yun Lao's eyes gleamed with the quiet pride of one who had seen many rise and fall in this path.
"The Spirit Ascension Realm is where the boundaries between the mortal world and the divine begin to blur. At this stage, both your body and soul elevate, transcending human limitations. You touch the divine, and your power grows beyond what mortals can fathom."
A quiet pause lingered before he spoke of the Saint Realm.
"The Saint Realm is a level few will ever attain. Here, mortals become legends. A Saint's strength is such that they can shape mountains with the palm of their hand, move oceans with a thought. At this level, one is no longer bound by the constraints of the physical world; they become a force of nature."
Yun Lao's voice dropped lower, almost reverential, as he spoke of the Immortal Realm.
"Then there is the Immortal Realm. The true transcendence of life and death. Immortals no longer die; their existence becomes an eternal flame, unburned by time. It is the realm of legends, the stuff of myth. Only a few have ever reached it, and to most, it remains beyond comprehension."
Finally, Yun Lao's gaze grew distant, his voice trailing off as if sharing a secret only a few ever knew.
"And then... there is the Eternal Sovereign Realm. The true peak. The highest level, rumored to exist only in myths. Those who reach this realm transcend not only death but time itself. They become rulers of existence, shaping the very fabric of the universe. It is a realm so far beyond our understanding, that it might as well be the realm of gods."
"I stopped in the middle of the Nascent stage," Yun Lao said. "My body was too old, too worn. But you..."
He reached out and touched Zhang Wei's chest lightly. "You're young. And the pendant has chosen you. If you walk the path of both healer and warrior, you may achieve what I could not."
Zhang Wei looked down at the glowing pendant, fists clenched.
"I wanted to heal… but now I see that sometimes, to protect life, I must also wield strength."
Yun Lao smiled, his eyes filled with both pride and sorrow. "Then don't repeat my mistake. Become strong, not just to fight… but to save."
Zhang Wei raised his head, meeting Yun Lao's gaze with newfound resolve. "Then teach me. Teach me how to cultivate. I want to become strong, not for glory, but to protect, to heal, and to save lives"
The old man's smile deepened, and he set his teacup down with a soft clink.
"Very well," he said. "Let this be your first step toward strength."
"To heal the world… you must be strong enough to protect it."
Zhang Wei looked around the peaceful meadow that stretched far and wide, the distant clouds lazily drifting above. But inside the humble wooden house, a quiet intensity brewed.
Yun Lao smiled and gestured toward a nearby wall lined with old scrolls and bamboo slips. "Since the jade pendant chose you, it means fate has chosen you too. You are now the bearer of a responsibility I once failed to carry."
He walked over, his long white robes brushing the floor as he opened a scroll and laid it on the table.
"These are martial arts scriptures I collected throughout my life, techniques far older than what exists in the world today. Some are soft as flowing water, others as fierce as the storm."
Zhang Wei's eyes were drawn to one in particular. Its title read: Heavenly Pulse of the Twin Rivers.
"This one…" Zhang Wei murmured. "It feels strange… like it's calling me."
Yun Lao nodded slowly. "That scripture is overbearing and gentle. In its infancy, it flows like a healer's touch. But at its peak, it can tear through realms like a sword through silk. If mastered, it allows you to overcome even those above your cultivation realm. Maybe this... is your path."
Zhang Wei sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, trying to calm his breath. The room was quiet except for the soft wind outside.
Across from him, Yun Lao spoke in a steady voice. "Close your eyes. Breathe slowly. Feel your body, every bone, every vessel, every flow of energy."
Zhang Wei focused. He breathed in deeply, then let it out. Slowly, he started to notice things he hadn't before, the warmth in his chest, the steady beat of his heart, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each breath.
"Good," Yun Lao said. "Now focus on your lower belly. That's your dantian, where your energy gathers. Feel for it."
Zhang Wei tried. It was hard at first, but then… something stirred. A faint warmth, like a tiny flame flickering deep inside him.
"Qi is all around us," Yun Lao continued. "In the air, the earth, the trees. Let it come to you. Don't force it."
Zhang Wei imagined the energy outside him , soft, flowing, invisible. He took another breath. This time, it felt like something was entering with it. A cool, gentle current. It drifted toward the warmth in his belly.
The jade pendant on his chest grew slightly warm, and for a moment, the flow inside him grew stronger.
"You've taken the first step," Yun Lao said. "Your body is waking up. This is the start of the Body Tempering Realm. Let the energy move through you. Strengthen your bones, your muscles, your blood. Bit by bit, you'll grow stronger."
Zhang Wei nodded silently, still focused. He didn't understand it all yet, but he felt it, something was changing inside him.
As hours passed, sweat dripped from Zhang Wei's brow. His body trembled, bones groaned under pressure and then, a rush of warmth surged through him.His veins lit up faintly, glowing with qi.
Yun Lao smiled. "You've done it. You've stepped into the first level of Body Tempering. The foundation is set."
But Yun Lao's face turned somber. "Listen, Zhang Wei. Since the jade pendant has chosen you, you must also carry its debt. My enemies are not in Linhua or Hei'an. They are far above… They belong to the Chen Clan, one of the ruling families of the Tianlong Dynasty one of the Ruling Dynasty in this world."
Zhang Wei's breath caught.
Yun Lao continued, "Linhua and Hei'an are mere provinces… pawns under Tianlong's vast reach. The Chen Clan is powerful, their roots spread deep across the empire. They slaughtered my family, my people, for the secrets this jade pendant holds."
He looked Zhang Wei in the eyes. "You are not ready now. But one day, you will be. And when that time comes… you must decide whether you will avenge the past."
Zhang Wei jolted awake, breath catching in his throat.
The room was still dark, but something felt… different. He sat up slowly—and froze.
A slick, black substance stained his bedsheets, oozing with a foul, pungent stench. It clung to his skin like tar, cold and slimy, as if his body had expelled something deep from within.
He stared at it in disbelief.
Then the dream rushed back, Yun Lao, the pendant, the cultivation technique. Everything. It hadn't been just a dream.
Heart pounding, Zhang Wei crossed his legs and closed his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he tried to revolve his qi the way Yun Lao had taught him.
And then, he felt it.
A gentle warmth stirred in his dantian, like a flame being kindled inside his core. The energy flowed through his veins like a whisper of wind and fire, subtle but undeniably real.
"I… I really did it," he murmured, still dazed. "I'm a Cultivator!"
The sour stench reminded him of the filth clinging to his body. He quickly rose, poured water into a basin, and scrubbed himself clean, the dark residue swirling down the drain like a weight being lifted from his soul. He changed into fresh robes and opened the window, letting the morning sun pour into the room.
Looking outside, a new resolve settled into his heart.
He could no longer be just a healer bound to the sidelines of war. Yun Lao's words echoed in his mind.
"To heal the world… you must be strong enough to protect it."