Yellow Dust Star — a forgotten speck drifting at the farthest edge of the Mortal Star Domain.
Here, spiritual energy was so sparse that even the lowest immortal sects would never glance its way. Mortals toiled under a merciless sun, lived short lives, and died believing the blue sky above was the limit of all existence.
In Willow Leaf Village, nestled between barren hills, the morning wind carried fine yellow dust through cracked wooden doors and into every home.
At the eastern edge of the village stood a crumbling mud hut. Fifteen-year-old Xiao Chen pushed open the warped door, carrying a rusted shovel and an empty woven basket.
Old Lady Wang, sweeping the street in front of her house, spotted him and clicked her tongue.
"Xiao Chen, heading out to dig roots again? Boy, you're skin and bones. Come here — I steamed two extra sweet potatoes last night. Take them."
She hobbled over and pressed two small, shriveled potatoes into his hand.
Xiao Chen lowered his head, voice soft. "Thank you, Auntie Wang. I… I can't pay you back right now."
"Pay? Nonsense!" The old woman waved her hand. "Your grandfather saved my husband's life during the last beast tide. This old woman still remembers kindness. Eat them while they're warm."
He clutched the potatoes tightly, warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the food.
"I will remember this favor," he said quietly.
Old Lady Wang sighed as she watched him walk away. "Poor child… born under an ill star. If only he had parents to look after him."
Xiao Chen headed toward the low hill behind the village — the place he visited every morning.
Halfway up, he met Little Fatty, the twelve-year-old son of the village head, who was herding a skinny goat.
"Big Brother Chen!" Little Fatty waved excitedly. "Are you going to the old willow again? You sit there every day staring at the sky. Do you want to fly away like the birds?"
Xiao Chen smiled faintly — the kind of gentle smile that made others feel inexplicably warm.
"Maybe. The world beyond the horizon must be bigger than this yellow dust."
Little Fatty scrunched his nose. "My father says there's nothing out there but more desert. He went to the county town once and said it's the same everywhere — people fighting over water and grain."
Xiao Chen ruffled the boy's hair. "Your father hasn't seen far enough. One day… I'll go see for myself."
Little Fatty laughed. "Then take me with you! I don't want to herd goats forever!"
"Deal," Xiao Chen replied, his voice carrying a rare lightness.
He continued up the hill alone.
The ancient willow at the top was half-dead, its gray branches drooping like an old man's weary arms. This was his spot.
He sat beneath it, gazing at the endless plains stretching to the horizon.
But today, hunger gnawed harder than usual. The two sweet potatoes were already eaten.
He stood, gripped his shovel, and walked behind the tree to dig for bitter roots that could at least fill the stomach.
Clang.
The shovel struck something hard.
"Hm?"
He knelt and dug carefully with his hands.
Soon, a black bead the size of a fist emerged — perfectly round, covered in fine cracks, yet somehow whole.
Xiao Chen picked it up, wiping away the dirt.
"What is this? A black jade stone?"
The moment his fingers closed around it, a sharp pain exploded in his mind.
"Ah—!"
He dropped to his knees, clutching his head.
Fragmented visions assaulted him: collapsing star oceans, ancient giants roaring in defiance, endless blood raining across shattered cosmoses.
A distant, ancient voice echoed deep in his soul:
"…Fragment of the Primordial Chaos…
Bearer of the Dual Paths…
Righteous and Evil shall walk as one…
One day, you shall stand beyond Heaven itself…"
The pain vanished as suddenly as it came.
Xiao Chen gasped, blood trickling from his nose.
The bead was gone.
In its place, a faint black rune-like mark had appeared over his heart.
He pressed his palm to his chest, breathing heavily.
"What… what was that?"
He waited, but nothing happened. No power surged. No strength filled his limbs.
He laughed bitterly, voice hoarse.
"A hallucination from hunger? The heavens truly love to toy with trash like me."
He stood, wiped the blood from his face, and resumed digging roots.
But unknown to him, deep within his chest, the Primordial Chaos Bead pulsed faintly — merging silently with his bloodline and soul.
Far beyond the sky, across layers of reality no mortal could perceive, a faint ripple spread through the cosmos.
It was too weak to disturb the slumbering immortals of higher realms.
Heaven remained indifferent.
For now.
Xiao Chen filled his basket with bitter roots, slung the shovel over his shoulder, and walked slowly back down the hill.
Little Fatty spotted him from afar and shouted, "Big Brother Chen! Did you find anything good today?"
Xiao Chen paused, looked at the vast sky one more time, and smiled softly.
"Just the same old roots… and maybe a little dream."
He continued toward the village, thin figure outlined against the rising sun.
No one knew that on this ordinary morning, beneath a dying willow tree, the seed of a legend that would one day defy the heavens had quietly taken root.