The Gates of Qinglong City
As the morning sun rose, its golden light bathed the towering walls of Qinglong City, the first true bastion of civilization Shen Ziyan had ever seen. The sheer size of it was overwhelming—walls forged from dark jade and reinforced with ancient formations shimmered faintly, protecting the city from both mortal and spiritual threats.
Ziyan stood at the edge of the road, gazing up at the immense structure. The main gates were enormous, guarded by cultivators clad in black armor, their sharp eyes scanning every traveler that approached. Some of them carried weapons infused with spiritual energy, while others radiated power strong enough to make an ordinary man's knees buckle.
This was not Yunhe Village.
This was a place where the strong ruled.
Ziyan adjusted the simple cloth bag slung over his shoulder—holding the little food he had left and a single spare tunic. His body still ached from the encounter with the spirit wolves the night before, but the power of the golden mark had healed him faster than any normal person should be able to recover.
He had felt it—the power of Spiritual Qi coursing through him.
But he did not understand it.
The only way forward was to learn.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the line of travelers waiting to enter the city.
The Cost of Entry
As Ziyan moved forward, he observed those around him. Merchants with carts full of exotic goods, traveling cultivators with their swords strapped to their backs, and even a few wandering disciples—young men and women in sect robes, clearly here on missions.
Each person in line had to pay a fee to enter the city. The guards checked for identification, their expressions indifferent as they collected spirit stones from those who could afford them.
Ziyan's heart sank.
He had no money.
The guard standing at the checkpoint was a middle-aged man with sharp eyes. His aura wasn't particularly strong—probably an early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator—but to an ordinary mortal, he was terrifying.
When it was finally Ziyan's turn, the guard looked him up and down.
"Name?"
"…Shen Ziyan."
"Purpose for entering Qinglong City?"
Ziyan hesitated. He couldn't exactly say, I'm here because I touched the severed hand of a god and now my body is filled with power I don't understand.
"…Seeking work."
The guard nodded, seemingly uninterested. "Entry fee—five copper coins or one low-grade spirit stone."
Ziyan clenched his jaw. "I… I don't have any money."
Instantly, the guards' expressions changed.
A second one stepped forward, younger but just as sharp-eyed. "No money?" His lips curled in amusement. "Then why are you here? Qinglong City isn't a place for beggars."
Ziyan felt his stomach tighten. He had expected difficulty, but the harsh reality of the world was becoming clearer by the moment.
Before the guards could push him aside, an old voice interrupted.
"I'll pay for the boy."
An Unexpected Patron
Ziyan turned, finding himself face to face with an elderly man draped in dark red robes. His beard was long and well-groomed, his sharp eyes gleaming with intelligence. Unlike the guards, who were merely trained warriors, this man's aura was deep, like a still lake concealing something terrifying beneath the surface.
A cultivator.
And not just any cultivator—someone powerful.
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a single low-grade spirit stone, flicking it toward the guard with practiced ease. "This should cover his entrance."
The guard's expression instantly shifted, becoming more respectful. "Of course, Senior. Please, enter."
Ziyan hesitated. He didn't know this man. But refusing his help meant being left outside the city with no food, no money, and no options.
He bowed. "Thank you, Senior."
The old man chuckled. "Come, boy. Walk with me."
The Scholar of Lost Knowledge
As they passed through the massive gates, Ziyan was overwhelmed by the sheer scale of Qinglong City. Streets paved with polished stone stretched endlessly in all directions, lined with towering buildings adorned with intricate carvings. People bustled about—mortals and cultivators alike—creating a chaotic but mesmerizing scene.
Even the air felt different.
Spiritual Qi saturated the city, far richer than anything he had ever felt before. It was no wonder sects recruited their disciples from places like this.
The elderly man walked slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "You're new to the cultivation world, aren't you?"
Ziyan blinked. "How did you—"
The old man laughed. "It's obvious. Your body is brimming with energy, yet your steps are unrefined. You have power but no training." He glanced at Ziyan's palm. "And you… possess something extraordinary."
Ziyan stiffened.
The old man's eyes gleamed. "Don't worry. I have no interest in robbing you. I am merely curious."
Ziyan hesitated before asking, "Who are you, Senior?"
The man smiled. "In this city, I am known as Scholar Xuan, a humble collector of lost knowledge."
A scholar?
Ziyan had heard of such people—cultivators who sought ancient texts and forgotten techniques rather than martial strength. Some were charlatans, but others…
Others knew things even the strongest sects had forgotten.
"You intrigue me, boy," Scholar Xuan said, stroking his beard. "I don't believe in coincidences. If fate has placed you in my path, then perhaps we are meant to walk together for a while."
Ziyan's thoughts raced.
This man had sensed something in him.
And right now, Ziyan had no idea how to survive in this world. He had no master, no sect, no understanding of what was happening to him.
Perhaps… this was fate.
He took a deep breath. "Scholar Xuan, may I ask… would you be willing to teach me?"
The old man's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh? A bold request. But tell me—why do you seek power?"
Ziyan's mind flashed back to the golden hand, to the cultivators who had been searching for it, to the way his mother had looked at him before he left home.
He clenched his fists.
"…Because I cannot afford to be weak."
Scholar Xuan studied him for a long moment. Then, he smiled.
"Very well. Let us see what potential the heavens have given you."
The Path of Cultivation Begins
Qinglong City stretched out before him, filled with dangers and opportunities alike.
Shen Ziyan had stepped into the world of cultivators.
And his journey was only beginning.