The warm steam rose lazily from the wooden bathtub, blurring the edges of the small room like a dreamscape. Fu HongJun lounged in the water with only his head visible above the surface, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. He leaned back against the tub's rim, eyes half-shut in satisfaction.

For once, he believed he could finally rest.

He chuckled to himself.
Tomorrow, no training... just the trip to the academy. Finally, some peace...

But just as his thoughts drifted toward dreams, a cold, sinister voice echoed inside his mind like a ghost creeping through the cracks.

"Smelly brat, you think you can slack off just because of this little trip to the academy? Heh, don’t even dream about it! I have other ways to make you suffer.Hahahahaha!”

Fu HongJun's face froze, then twisted in dread. The once-relaxing bath now felt like a cage.

“Master…” he muttered bitterly. “You don’t want me to train on the way, right?”

“Of course not,” Emperor Ye’s eerie voice replied. “Why would I let you train normally? Brat, be ready for your surprise tomorrow. And for better use… bring the brooms.”

“No, no, Master! I’ll train very hard! Just… just don’t hit me anymore!” Fu HongJun blurted out in panic.

Silence.

The wicked voice faded like a shadow melting into the night.

Fu HongJun let out a long sigh. So much for peace...

His mood ruined, he quickly scrubbed his body, climbed out of the tub, dried off, and changed into clean clothes. With a heavy heart, he shuffled into the kitchen.

The scent of simmering herbs and sizzling oil welcomed him. Grandpa Ji stood at the stove, an old iron wok sizzling in front of him, the firelight flickering off his face.

Seeing the boy enter, he said without turning,

“Jun’er, just wait a few more minutes. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Okay, Grandpa,” Fu HongJun replied, sitting on the old wooden stool.

The small kitchen, dimly lit by oil lamps, felt cozy and warm. Outside, crickets chirped beneath the moonlight. Inside, the clinking of ladles and bubbling soup echoed softly.

While stirring the pot, Grandpa Ji suddenly spoke in a calm but firm voice.

“Jun’er, tomorrow we set off for Jing Kong City. The trip should take half a day by carriage. But before that, there's something I must say. Listen carefully.”

Fu HongJun immediately straightened up. The tone Grandpa Ji used was serious, more so than usual.

“Jun’er… from tomorrow onward, your path will begin. Cultivation, life, survival... Everything you do will be your own burden to bear. So remember: Do not show mercy to your enemies. Don’t hesitate. Don’t falter. Your life is more important than your ideals.”

He paused, then continued slowly.

“Also… don’t blame fate. Nothing happens without a cause. There is no such thing as luck. If you fail, it’s because you weren’t strong enough or wise enough. Look for the reason. Don’t push the blame onto the heavens. Understand?”

Fu HongJun didn’t grasp all of it but he felt the weight behind the words. He nodded respectfully.

“Yes, Grandpa. I understand.”

With that, Grandpa Ji plated two dishes, one a simple vegetable stir-fry, the other a fragrant stew and placed them on the table. He sat down and handed one to Fu HongJun.

They ate in silence, the only sounds being the soft chewing and occasional sip of soup. It was a rare, quiet moment—like the calm before a storm.

Eventually, Grandpa Ji spoke again.

“Jun’er, leave the dishes. Go to bed early. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

Fu HongJun rose, bowed slightly, and left the kitchen. He walked into his room, lay down on the wooden bed, and stared at the ceiling.

Soon, sleep took him.

After washing the dishes, Grandpa Ji dried his hands on an old cloth, put on his cloak, and silently stepped out into the night.

The moonlight bathed the village in silver-blue hues. The air was cool, the stars clear. He walked through the narrow, silent paths until he arrived at a slightly larger house, Elder Liu’s residence.

Unlike most humble village homes, Liu Yun’s house was adorned with signs of luxury: carved wooden windows, polished floors, golden incense burners shaped like qilins, shelves lined with scrolls, maps, and fine porcelain tea sets.

Inside, Liu Yun sat at a large, lacquered table under a bright lantern, completely absorbed in his work. His hands moved rapidly across parchment, drawing diagrams with sharp lines and cryptic notations. He muttered to himself, piecing together deadly formations not with Qi, but with cunning.

The room was filled with the smell of ink, tea, and burning incense. There were no spiritual treasures only tools, blueprints, dried herbs, and strings, all used for designing mortal traps with terrifying effects.

As Grandpa Ji entered quietly, Liu Yun didn’t notice until the old man coughed lightly.

Startled, Liu Yun nearly dropped his brush.

“Old fool! Don’t scare me like that! If my plans were ruined, our whole operation would fall apart and the entire village might be done for!”

Grandpa Ji chuckled and closed the door behind him.

“Lao Liu, are you really so fragile now? Tsk tsk.”

“Bah, save your jokes. Come here and look at these.”

He handed over the first parchment, which was filled with a complex circular trap design, symbols for pressure plates and wire tension carefully drawn in.

“This one’s our main trap. We’ll lay it at the base of the mountain. If timed right, it’ll freeze the movement of low-stage cultivators for at least a few minutes.”

Then he handed over a second diagram, this one showing a spiderweb-like contraption with narrow blades aligned in a hexagonal pattern.

“This one’s more experimental. It’s powerful enough to kill a full-grown bear in one strike. But I’m not sure how it’ll fare against cultivators. Still, if it hits… it’ll pierce.”

Grandpa Ji studied the papers, eyes narrowing.

“Add poison to the blades. Something paralyzing. And... soak the web in aphrodisiacs too, just in case. If that’s not enough drench it in fuel. If we must be cruel, then let’s be crueler than devils.”

Liu Yun raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Grandpa Ji with a strange expression.

This old geezer… still a mortal, yet thinks like a devil with a grudge. If he ever starts cultivating… I swear I’m digging a bunker and moving to another province.

Grandpa Ji, seemingly unaware of the chill he just sent down Liu Yun’s spine, calmly said,

“Lao Liu, those two traps might not be enough. Add one more. I think... the one we used three years ago would be suitable.”

Liu Yun’s expression turned stiff.

That one? Don’t tell me he’s talking about the Fire Cage? Damn it… that thing was pure cruelty. It turned a whole bandit gang into barbecue...
Ah… forget it.

He let out a long breath and waved his hand.

“Okay, old fool. Just wait for the result. I need some time to chain these traps together into something useful.”

Grandpa Ji gave a short nod, turned around, and left the house under the moonlight.

Returning home, he walked directly into the inner chamber. There, he sat down quietly at the old wooden desk, dipped a brush in ink, and wrote a single word on a slip of talisman paper: “Hide.”

He gave a short whistle.

From outside the window, a strange, featherless bird with crimson eyes and black plumage flapped its wings and flew into the room. It was no ordinary bird-its wings shimmered faintly under the moonlight, and a tiny glass bottle was fastened to its back.

Grandpa Ji rolled the note, slipped it into the bottle, then gently stroked the bird’s beak.

“Go.”

The bird flapped once and shot out the window like a shadow.

Only then did Grandpa Ji sigh, return to his chair, and close his eyes. Sleep took him not long after.

The peaceful night passed.

Morning arrived with a gentle golden hue spreading over the village. Roosters crowed loudly, and the surrounding trees came alive with the songs of birds.

In his room, Fu HongJun’s eyes snapped open.

He sat up abruptly, glancing around in panic searching for any flying broomsticks, sticks, or, heaven forbid, training stones. Seeing none, he let out a long sigh of relief.

“Whew... at least Master’s not that crazy.”

He climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom to splash water on his face, and freshen up.

Just then, his stomach grumbled like thunder.

Not wasting a moment, he bolted out and dashed straight to the kitchen, where a simple but hearty breakfast was already laid out. Grandpa Ji was seated with his hands behind his back, looking calm and composed.

“Eat quickly,” he said without looking up. “The carriage will arrive soon.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

Fu HongJun devoured the food quickly. As he finished, he stood up to leave, but Grandpa Ji raised a hand.

“Wait in the inner room.”

In the inner room, Grandpa Ji handed him a well-prepared travel bag.

“Inside, you’ll find dry rations, a change of clothes, and a dagger for self-defense. I also added a jade amulet in the inner pouch. Don’t forget the jade.”

He paused, then added with unusual seriousness,

“I bought it from a Buddhist monk for three hundred spirit stones. It wards off ghosts and repels bad luck. Keep it close at all times.”

Fu HongJun’s heart warmed. He clutched the bag tightly and nodded.

“Yes, Grandpa. I’ll take good care of it. Don’t worry.”

Just then, a familiar voice called from outside.

“Grandpa Ji, the carriage is ready. I brought it here!” Ke Yan’s cheerful tone rang out.

Grandpa Ji stood up.

“Come, Jun’er. Let’s go.”

The two stepped outside. A modest wooden carriage drawn by a healthy black horse waited at the gate. Ke Yan stood by, holding the reins.

Fu HongJun smiled and waved.

“Brother Ke, want to come with me?”

Ke Yan laughed and rubbed the back of his head.

“No, Xiao Jun. I’ve got work to do. My mother would skin me alive if I ran off today. But promise me you’ll get strong, alright?”

Fu HongJun nodded seriously.

“Bye-bye, Brother Ke. I promise! I’ll become strong!”

With that, the carriage rolled out, creaking slightly as it entered the forest road leading toward Jing Kong City.

Inside the carriage, Fu HongJun laid back against the side, arms behind his head. The rhythmic clopping of the horse lulled him into peace.

So comfy… maybe I can nap until we get there.

He stretched lazily and let out a content sigh.

He had completely forgotten about Emperor Ye’s earlier warning.

Suddenly, a wicked, eerie voice resounded in his mind like a thunderclap.

“Smelly brat! You dare forget this master’s words?! Very well… your training begins now!”

Before Fu HongJun could even protest, brilliant golden-red runes exploded into his consciousness. They shimmered in his soul sea and with a violent pull, his soul was yanked out of his body.

Darkness.

Then light.

When Fu HongJun opened his eyes, he was standing in a desolate world filled with gray fog. All around him, scattered bones, rotting corpses, and shattered weapons littered the broken ground.

“W-Where… am I?” he muttered, eyes wide. “What is this place?!”

Suddenly, realization struck him.

Wait… I’ve seen this place before. When I met Master the first time…

His nerves settled slightly.

But then the ground began to tremble.

Bones rattled. Corpses floated.

Dozens of skulls and broken limbs hovered into the air like leaves caught in a storm. They spun rapidly and fused together. Flesh reformed from nothing. Muscles twisted onto bones.

From that swirling mass of death, two grotesque constructs took shape—a hulking, blood-covered bone golem, and a serpentine corpse dragon with tattered wings and glowing red eyes.

They turned toward Fu HongJun in unison.

He gulped.

His legs trembled.

“W-what the hell are these things?! MASTER! HELP! HELP ME!!”

But the only reply was Emperor Ye’s distant, echoing laughter:

“This is your training, brat! It’s very simple. Just run! Hahahahaha!”

The voice faded completely.

No matter how many times Fu HongJun called for help, there was no answer.

And so, with no other choice, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

then spun on his heel and ran, the corpse dragon’s roar echoing behind him as the monstrous chase began.

The trio: golem, dragon, and a frightened boy raced through the strange, fog-choked realm, the sound of their heavy footsteps and terrified shouts filling the eerie silence.

Back in the carriage, Fu HongJun’s body lay still, as if in deep sleep. Grandpa Ji glanced inside, observing his grandson’s peaceful slumber.

Shaking his head with a soft sigh, he muttered,

“Alas… so worriless.”

Unaware that his grandson’s soul was locked in a deadly chase through a nightmare realm, Grandpa Ji gently urged the horse forward.

The carriage creaked slowly onward, cutting through the quiet forest road toward Jing Kong City.