Dusk had fallen, the air cold and heavy.
A thick, acrid smell of scorched earth filled Ye Yun's nostrils. He jolted awake and scrambled to his feet, only to freeze in place.
The sight before him was unbearable.
The small forest had been reduced to a blackened wasteland, every tree charred to ash.
"What the hell happened here…?" Ye Yun muttered blankly.
He quickly checked himself. His gray White Cloud Daoist robe was torn and tattered beyond recognition—but his body was completely unharmed.
"Greetings, the one-thousandth chosen,"a mechanical female voice suddenly echoed inside his mind, flat and emotionless, like a prerecorded announcement.
Ye Yun spun around instinctively."Who's there?!"
No one.
"Where are you?" he demanded.
"I reside within your sea of consciousness," the voice replied simply.
"What?!"Ye Yun's face drained of color.
He knew exactly what that meant. On the Yunhuang Continent, hearing another voice inside one's mind usually meant only one thing—
possession.
"I am your divine soul," the voice said.
"My divine soul?" Ye Yun frowned. "Isn't my divine soul… me?"
"Congratulations," the voice continued without explanation."You possess the Primordial Era's first Undying Divine Soul."
"The first… Undying Divine Soul?" Ye Yun murmured."Sounds pretty damn impressive."
"The one-thousandth chosen," the Undying Divine Soul said, cutting straight to the point."You must cultivate into a True Immortal within one hundred years. Otherwise, you will be erased from existence."
"What?!"Ye Yun jumped on the spot.
One hundred years?!Are you out of your damn mind?!
Ever since the end of the Primordial Era, in over a million years, not a single person on the entire Yunhuang Continent had successfully become a True Immortal!
"You might as well tell me to die right now!" Ye Yun roared.
"You do not possess the right to refuse," the Undying Divine Soul replied coldly.
Ye Yun fell silent.
After a long moment, he forced himself to calm down."What about the previous nine hundred and ninety-nine 'chosen'?" he asked quietly.
"They failed in cultivation," the voice replied, as though reciting a line it had repeated countless times."Their souls were annihilated."
"Damn you…" Ye Yun cursed under his breath.
He thought for a moment, his expression growing complicated.
"Cultivation is like being forced," the Undying Divine Soul said calmly."If you can't resist it, you might as well close your eyes and endure."
Ye Yun let out a bitter laugh.
"Fine," he said at last. "Then tell me—what exactly can you do for me? If you expect me to become a True Immortal in a hundred years, there has to be some benefit."
"As long as I do not perish," the Undying Divine Soul replied,"you will not die."
Ye Yun's eyes narrowed."Immortality? That means I can do whatever I want, doesn't it?"
It sounded almost like a game mechanic.
"Powerful cultivators are capable of easily destroying divine souls," the voice continued indifferently."If I perish, your cultivation attempt will also be deemed a failure."
Ye Yun frowned.
In his fourteen years in this world, he had heard rumors—of cultivators who could erase both body and soul with a mere thought.
"…Then at least give me an immortal cultivation manual," Ye Yun said with a sigh."Something, anything."
"I possess no cultivation manuals," the Undying Divine Soul replied calmly."Not even a low-grade first-tier technique."
Ye Yun's face darkened.
"I can only assist you in identifying cultivation methods, Dao techniques, pills, and treasures," the voice continued."I may also aid you in alchemy and artifact refinement."
"Which means I still have to do everything myself," Ye Yun muttered under his breath.
"Chosen one," the Undying Divine Soul said without a shred of sympathy,"begin now. Within one year, you must reach the Spirit-Sensing Realm. Otherwise, the process will reset."
"Good luck."
Ye Yun rubbed his forehead.What kind of mess was this?
Then he let out a faint smile. One hundred years—there was no need to panic just yet.
He glanced down at his tattered gray White Cloud Daoist robe, gritted his teeth, and headed uphill toward Sky-Cloud Temple.
Sky-Cloud Temple.
The ancient bronze gates stood tightly shut.
"Senior Brother, open up. It's me—Ye Yun," he called, knocking lightly.
With a creak, the gate opened just enough for a Daoist a head taller than Ye Yun to poke out.
"Ye Yun," the gatekeeper said stiffly, reciting his words as if from memory."By order of the Temple Master, due to today's abnormal heavenly signs—suspected birth of a demonic heretic—all personnel are forbidden from entering or leaving at will."
With that, he immediately moved to shut the gate again.
"Wait, wait, Senior Brother," Ye Yun said quickly, flashing a sly grin."I just happen to have the latest Blossom Pavilion Monthly… fresh issue."
He gave the gatekeeper a meaningful look."You know what I mean."
The gatekeeper hesitated, glanced behind him, then leaned out again and whispered,"…Let me see it."
Ye Yun reached into his cloth pouch and pulled out a small book with a yellow cover. On it were printed five bold characters:
Blossom Pavilion: Strange Tales
"Heh," the gatekeeper chuckled, his grin turning unmistakably lewd as he reached for it.
Ye Yun snapped the pouch shut."Senior Brother, you have to let me in first."
The gate opened a little wider.
Ye Yun slipped inside in a flash and shoved the yellow booklet into the man's hands. The gatekeeper hurriedly stuffed it into his robes, glancing around nervously, afraid another disciple might see.
"Why's it so quiet tonight?" Ye Yun asked in confusion. "There's only you guarding the gate."
If some demonic cult chose this moment to attack, Sky-Cloud Temple's thousand-year legacy would be finished.
"The Temple Master summoned the four Hall Heads, all elders, and every disciple to the main hall," the gatekeeper replied."Something big happened down the mountain this afternoon."
"The small forest?" Ye Yun asked.
"That's the one," the gatekeeper said with lingering fear."It was terrifying—like the end of the world."
"Even the birth of a Heavenly Demon wouldn't be that scary, would it?" he muttered, glancing outside once more before slamming the bronze gates shut and fastening the bolts, as if afraid the apocalypse itself might appear at the entrance.
Ye Yun quietly made his way to the side of the main hall.
Inside, the hall blazed with light. Hundreds of elders and disciples sat cross-legged in orderly rows. On a raised platform two meters high at the front sat an elderly man with white hair and beard—Yu Tianya, the Temple Master of Sky-Cloud Temple.
Seated on either side of him were the temple's Four Grand Hall Heads.
Behind them, carved into the towering stone wall, loomed a single massive character:
Dao.
"Unfilial disciple!"A thick-browed elder at the far right of the platform suddenly stood up and bellowed toward the entrance."Get in here at once!"
Ye Yun's heart skipped a beat.
Scratching his head, he walked into the main hall.
The elder who had shouted was none other than Ye Yun's master—Elder Ke Zhengfeng, the temple's chief administrator.
Watching Ye Yun shuffle in with his crooked posture, Ke Zhengfeng could only sigh helplessly as he sat back down, shaking his head.
Fourteen years ago, on a rain-soaked night, it was Ke Zhengfeng who had brought Ye Yun back to the temple.
Even now, he still remembered that night.
The rain had poured down in sheets so thick it was impossible to see more than a few steps ahead.
The entire Ye Village had been slaughtered.
Not a single soul was spared.
Every villager had been drained dry, reduced to nothing more than shriveled husks—emptied of blood and life alike.
Only one infant survived.
The baby lay hidden at the bottom of a dried well, sealed beneath a massive stone. Had Ke Zhengfeng not already broken through to the Spirit-Sensing Realm at the time, allowing him to detect that faint trace of life beneath the earth, the wretched child would have starved to death in the darkness long before anyone arrived.
Ke Zhengfeng pushed the stone aside and leapt down into the well.
There, cradled in his arms, was a baby still wrapped in swaddling cloth.
The infant's skin was slightly dark, smeared with fresh blood. Judging by his condition, he had likely been born only moments before the massacre. Yet his eyes—astonishingly bright—were wide open, calm and alert.
He did not cry.
He did not struggle.
That moment was etched forever into Ke Zhengfeng's heart.
Standing in the depths of the well, Ke Zhengfeng gently touched the baby's soft cheek.
So pitiful.
Born into the world only to be met immediately by a demonic slaughter that wiped out an entire village.