As Lu Tianming sat in deep focus, the jade scroll glowing faintly before him, something strange began to unfold.
He quickly realized—he could not only comprehend the scroll's contents...
He could understand it intuitively, as if the ancient technique had been written with his own mind in consideration.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
What truly defied logic... was that he could improve it.
Yes—alter the structure of the technique.
Refine the flow of qi circulation.
Correct the inefficiencies buried within the ancient script.
Not just for himself—but in a way that would make the technique better for anyone who practiced it.
For most cultivators, even geniuses, comprehending a foundational scroll was already a trial of will and talent. At best, they could grasp it faster than others. That was the limit.
But for Lu Tianming, it felt like reading a flawed recipe and rewriting it into something divine.
He paused for a few breaths, stunned.
The Foundation Compression Manual wasn't just some common scroll. It was a technique passed down since ancient times, taught to thousands of sect disciples and imperial heirs alike. Its origins were so deep-rooted, even Supreme Beings never dared to alter it.
Not because they didn't want to…
But because they couldn't.
Changing such a scroll required more than comprehension.
It required the ability to see the Dao behind the technique itself—something said to be impossible for anyone below Level 10, and even then, unheard of.
And yet, Lu Tianming, a mere mortal with no cultivation, had done just that.
He stared at the scroll in silence. His heart was calm, but a storm raged behind his eyes.
This power… if known…
It wouldn't just attract envy from Level 9 or 10 cultivators.
Even the Supreme Beings, those who stood above heaven and earth, would fight for it.
He clenched his fists and made a decision.
> "This must never be revealed—not yet."
Even though it seemed like a minor change on the surface, he knew better.
He had touched something forbidden.
Something no one else in this world could do.
A knock echoed through the chamber, pulling Lu Tianming from his thoughts.
"Your Highness," came a respectful voice from beyond the door. It was Wu Lu, his personal servant.
"Enter," Lu Tianming said calmly.
Wu Lu stepped in, bowed low. "The Emperor has summoned you."
Lu's brows lifted slightly.
> "Father?"
It wasn't strange for them to meet—his father often called for him every few days. But this time was different. It had only been two days since their last meeting, when Emperor Lu Wuyue had introduced him to his new teacher, Master Yun Zhenhai.
> "Strange…"
Still, he didn't dwell on it. Without hesitation, he rose and made his way toward the Emperor's palace.
As he walked through the grand marble corridors of the Great Empire, servants and guards bowed one after another, their eyes filled with awe, fear, and the heat of gossip.
They had all heard by now.
> "He didn't bow to a Level 8 cultivator…"
"Is it arrogance? Or something more?"
But none dared speak aloud—not in front of him.
He may have only been six years old, but he was no ordinary child. He was Lu Tianming, First Prince of the Great Empire. Prideful, cold, and ruthless.
And everyone in the palace knew:
> If you got on his bad side, you wouldn't meet a good end.
High atop the Sky Pavilion, shrouded in clouds and sealed by ancient formation arrays, Master Yun Zhenhai sat in silent meditation.
His qi was still. His body unmoving.
Yet within, his thoughts wandered.
He found himself recalling the boy from earlier—
Lu Tianming.
> "He didn't bow."
The thought returned again and again.
Not out of anger—but interest.
In all his years walking across empires, among sects and kings, Yun Zhenhai had seen countless talents—proud geniuses, reckless prodigies, children with monstrous gifts.
But never a six-year-old who dared stand tall before a Level 8 cultivator without flinching.
> "It wasn't arrogance," he muttered under his breath. "It was pride... the kind that doesn't break easily."
He had expected to intimidate the young prince. Perhaps even humble him.
Instead, he had walked away intrigued—something that hadn't happened in decades.
The longer he meditated, the more his curiosity grew.
> "How far can this boy go?"
He had given the prince three days to comprehend the Foundation Compression Manual. For most, even understanding its core would be a decent result.
But for some reason...
For some unknown, nagging reason...
Yun Zhenhai felt that when he returned in three days—
He wouldn't be the one testing the prince.
He would be tested.
A faint smile crossed his lips.
> "Don't disappoint me, Lu Tianming."
And just like that, the stoic master who rarely cared about anything...
Was eager for the outcome.
Back in the Imperial Palace, within the golden dragon hall lit by heavenly lamps, Lu Tianming stood before the emperor.
He gave a proper cupped-fist salute.
> "Greetings, Father."
"Sit," Emperor Lu Wuyue said with a calm nod.
Lu took his place beside the throne, on a lower platform reserved for princes. Though silent and respectful, his eyes remained sharp—unyielding, just like his presence.
The emperor began to speak, his tone leisurely yet commanding.
> "Tianming, the outer provinces grow restless. Tensions rise between our Great Empire and the minor states aligned with the Spirit Flame Alliance. Even within our borders, the smaller clans have begun to lean toward outside sects. A subtle shift... but one worth watching."
He continued, explaining the fragile alliances, the balance between large sects and imperial power, and the importance of keeping neutral clans from tipping too far into external influence.
Lu Tianming listened silently—for a while.
Then, eyes steady, he spoke.
> "Father, forgive my interruption."
"But I doubt you summoned me just to speak of outer clans and imperial politics."
"May I ask you to speak directly—what is it you truly wish to tell me?"
The hall fell silent for a brief moment.
A faint smile curled on the emperor's lips.
> Just like his mother... direct, sharp, and without patience for masks.Emperor Lu Wuyue leaned back slightly on his throne, a flicker of something distant in his gaze.
> "When your mother was still with us… she had dreams for you."
His voice softened—not in weakness, but in memory.
> "She wished for you to marry a kind girl, live a carefree life beyond the burdens of the court, and one day... she wanted to hold her grandchildren with her own hands, to laugh and grow old watching you raise a family."
A pause.
His expression darkened just slightly.
> "But... never mind that."
He straightened once more, the fleeting tenderness vanishing like smoke.
> "With unrest stirring at the borders and old enemies watching for weakness, I've made a decision."
His gaze turned sharp, emperor-like again.
> "I've arranged your marriage to the Gu family's eldest daughter—Gu Xueyan."
Lu Tianming's expression didn't change, but a faint glint passed through his eyes.
> "She's the number one beauty of the younger generation," the emperor continued, "and a cultivation prodigy. At only fourteen, she has reached Level 4—a feat even most sect disciples struggle to match."
> "For ordinary cultivators, advancing a single level can take decades or even a century. The higher one climbs, the steeper the path becomes."
He paused, as if to let the weight of his words settle.
> "This marriage will secure an alliance with the Gu Clan—the strongest clan in the continent, second only to the imperial family itself. Their patriarch has reached late Level 7, and they hold power nearly on par with our Great Empire. Gu Xueyan is their proud young mistress."
Lu Tianming listened, unmoved.
> "So… my mother isn't dead, I guess."
He didn't say it aloud. Just a passing thought.
Not that it mattered.
> "What difference does it make?"
"I've never been someone who clings to emotion."
Even if she had once dreamed of peace and grandchildren, that was not the path he intended to walk.
> "I wasn't born for a peaceful life."
"I was born to stand at the peak, alone if I must."
Just then, a knock came from outside the hall.
A eunuch entered quietly and bowed.
> "Your Majesty, Master Yun Zhenh
ai has arrived."
Lu Wuyue gave his son a single glance.
> "It's time."