Putting his clean clothes back on, he grabbed a dark-colored sweet potato and wolfed it down.
The holes in the small roof allowed a few rays of light to seep in, dimly illuminating the hut. The room was extremely sparse; there was no table or chairs. There was only a single small bed with a deerskin blanket and a square-shaped pillow. This was the entirety of Yang Kai's possessions.
The deerskin was from a deer the original Yang Kai had hunted previously. Although it wasn't thick, it was still warm. The pillow, on the other hand, was something he had just happened to pick up outside the sect while hunting.
Yang Kai began looking around, searching for something... or perhaps someone.
Why was there still no sign of change? There was no mysterious master appearing, no sudden enlightenment, no legendary inheritance falling into his lap.
Every cultivation story had them. Some lucky fool would stumble upon a hidden cave, a dusty old ring, or a fragment of an ancient text... something that would change his fate forever.
But seemingly, not him.
Yang Kai continued searching. He dug under his bed, hoping for a hidden scroll. Nothing.
He had secretly checked the well outside, thinking it might be a hidden portal. Still nothing. He even scoured the handle of his broomstick, just in case there were hidden inscriptions. Absolutely nothing.
Now, sitting in his miserable little hut, he clenched his fists in annoyance.
"Fine," he muttered. "If a treasure won't come to me, I'll just force it out myself."
Ignoring the dull ache in his ribs, he grabbed the blunt knife he used for cutting firewood. Holding out his left hand, he took a deep breath... and sliced the blade across his palm.
Fresh, crimson blood welled up from the cut.
Gritting his teeth, Yang Kai smeared the blood on everything in his hut that looked even remotely suspicious.
The broomstick? No reaction. Just a bloody broom.
The wooden floorboards? No glowing runes. Just a bloody mess.
His tattered clothes? Of course not.
His old pillow? He hesitated. It was literally just a black stone, right? But... what if?
This black stone pillow had been with Yang Kai for an entire year, yet he still didn't know what it actually was. Nonetheless, it functioned as a great pillow.
Desperate, he smeared his own blood across the smooth surface of the black stone.
Nothing happened.
Yang Kai sighed in sheer frustration and collapsed backward onto his bed. "Maybe I really am just ordinary..."
He closed his eyes, physical and mental exhaustion pulling him toward sleep.
Then, the hard pillow beneath his head began to emit a clouded light, flickering in rhythm with his heartbeat.
A faint hum echoed in the quiet room.
Yang Kai's eyes snapped open.
He felt it... a strange, almost invisible pulse coming from right beneath his head.
Confused, he sat up. That was when he saw it.
His previous frustration had made him careless... he hadn't even noticed the excess blood trickling down onto the pillow when he lay down. But now, it was gone. It had been completely absorbed.
The fresh blood sank into the stone like ink into paper, vanishing without a trace.
Suddenly, a pitch-black ray burst forth from the stone. The dark light hovered in the air for a split second before violently drilling straight into Yang Kai's forehead, instantly disappearing from sight.
At the same time, within his mind, an image of an ancient and desolate place appeared, accompanied by a strange, overwhelming presence. It was like a crashing tidal wave or an apocalyptic avalanche; any person standing before it would feel entirely insignificant.
His breath came in short, ragged gasps. His body trembled violently. The presence invading his mind was... suffocating. For a terrifying moment, he thought he might pass out. But then, something within him... perhaps a buried instinct or the resilience of his immortality... forced him to steady himself.
He hurriedly scrambled back, folding up the deerskin blanket as he re-positioned himself to look at the stone.
This feeling... his gut told him that this stone was absolutely not what it seemed.
Suddenly, the stone shifted. It felt as if a thick book was being thrown into the air, its pages spreading out as it landed.
His hands trembled as he reached for it. The weight shifted, and before he could react, the pillow slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. But when it landed, it was no longer a block of stone. It had completely unfolded into a thick, ancient black book.
He opened it. It was... completely empty. The pages were pitch black, and they felt incredibly profound. He gently tried to tear a page to test its durability, but it wouldn't yield at all.
This thick, wordless book left him utterly speechless.
It was intensely mysterious. Yang Kai turned back to the very first page, but there was still nothing. He stared hard at the blank black paper.
For a moment, there was no change. Then, slowly, he discovered a subtle shift occurring. The strange, dominating presence that had appeared in his mind's vision surged once again. A line of glowing, golden-colored characters started to slowly materialize on the dark page.
"Blood is cited, the golden body descends, not a miracle, but a golden immortal!"
Yang Kai's breath caught in his throat.
The words seemed to burn directly into his soul.
He barely had time to register their meaning before a massive, overwhelming presence descended upon the room.
It was like a tidal wave. Like a collapsing mountain. Like the authoritative roar of a god.
Something ancient had finally awakened.
Yang Kai's mind momentarily went completely blank as he absorbed the pressure.
Gradually, more lines slowly appeared beneath the first.
"Proud golden body, rules the heavens, indomitable spirit, will it descend!"
Eight lines and exactly thirty-two words now occupied the entire first page. They gave off a dominating, heaven-and-earth-shattering aura, as if the golden words themselves were imbued with a supreme, domineering spirit.