Xuan Yan hesitated, his brow furrowing.
The figure groaned in frustration. "Hey, don't just fucking stand there thinking! I'm about to disappear, damn it!"
Half of his body was gone now, only his upper torso and arms remaining.
"Alright, alright!" Xuan Yan shouted. "Fine, I'll become your successor! Now what do I do?!"
The figure didn't answer with words. Instead, he raised his trembling hand, two fingers pointing straight at Xuan Yan's forehead.
A thin beam of black light shot out, piercing through Xuan Yan's spiritual form.
Xuan Yan gasped as the energy rushed into him—cold, heavy, yet strangely familiar. His whole body trembled as foreign power coursed through his spirit.
The figure's body finally began to dissolve completely, his voice echoing through the dark void as he vanished.
"Don't die, boy… my inheritance… will take you somewhere you could never imagine…"
Then—silence.
Xuan Yan's spirit flickered. The dark void collapsed around him, and in the next moment—
Whoosh!
He snapped awake, sitting upright on his broken bed, gasping for air. Sweat dripped down his face.
He looked around his shabby room, breathing hard. "Was that… all a dream?" he muttered. "What a terrifying fucking dream…"
The sun was low in the sky, painting the walls orange. He rubbed his temples, trying to steady his thoughts.
Then his eyes landed on the bed beside him. His brows furrowed.
"The black box… where the hell is it?"
He looked around the room, under the bed, near the table—nothing. His confusion deepened.
"Where did it go…? My black box—"
Before he could finish, a faint shimmer appeared in the air before him.
Wooooom…
The black box materialized out of thin air, floating quietly, emitting a faint black aura.
Xuan Yan stared, dumbfounded. His heartbeat quickened.
He reached out instinctively, and the box responded—it vibrated softly, then disappeared again, merging into his Spiritual Sea.
A faint smirk tugged at Xuan Yan's lips as realization dawned.
"So… it's mine now," he whispered. "The box… and the inheritance."
He clenched his fists, eyes burning with renewed determination.
Let's see what kind of power you've left behind for me… old ghost.
Suddenly, the black box appears and began to tremble.
Clack… clack…
A deep hum filled the room as the lid of the box creaked open by itself. A swirl of black mist escaped from within, and a black technique book floated out slowly, surrounded by faint red and silver glimmers.
Then—clack!—the box shut on its own and disappeared into thin air, merging once again into Xuan Yan's spiritual sea.
Xuan Yan stared at the floating book for a moment, stunned, before he reached out and caught it carefully. The surface of the book was cool to the touch, its title faintly glowing with an eerie crimson light.
"'Yin-Yang Harmonizing Technique,'" he read softly.
He quickly flipped it open. Inside were only two pages, both written in ancient characters that glowed faintly as he read them.
On the first page—it described a cultivation method to be practiced when the sun rises, to draw upon the power of yang and fire.
On the second page—it showed the opposite technique, one to be performed beneath the moon, to absorb yin and water energy.
Xuan Yan's heartbeat quickened. He glanced out his window—it was already night, and the silver moon had begun to rise over the horizon.
Without wasting a second, he grabbed the book and sprinted outside, his bare feet hitting the dirt path. The wind whipped past his face as he dashed toward the cliff behind his house—a quiet, forgotten corner of the Heavenly Palace where no one ever came.
When he reached the edge, he stopped and raised his eyes.
The moon hung large and bright in the sky, its pale light washing over the land.
He opened the book again, looked at the moonlight cultivation pose, and began mimicking the movements shown on the page.
His breathing slowed, his mind calmed—and suddenly, he felt it.
A faint thread of white energy descended from the moon and entered his body through his palms.
He gasped softly. The moonlight was merging with his meridians, flowing slowly through his blood, into his dantian.
"Moonlight… energy?" he murmured, his eyes widening in disbelief.
He continued practicing for nearly an hour, letting the cool energy fill his limbs until his body began to ache. His breath turned heavy, and his muscles trembled under the strain.
Finally, panting and drenched in sweat, he dropped to the ground and wiped his face.
"Wow…" he exhaled, grinning weakly. "If I keep this up… I'll break through soon. But damn… my body hurts like hell… and the energy flow is getting weak. I better rest for now."
He stood, clutching the book, and trudged back toward his small house.
Within minutes, he collapsed on his bed and fell asleep, the faint moonlight still streaming through the window.
---
Next morning—before dawn had fully broken—Xuan Yan's eyes snapped open. The air was cool and quiet, the horizon still cloaked in the darkness of early morning.
He jumped out of bed, excitement burning in his chest. "Morning technique… let's see what you've got for me."
He grabbed the book and ran toward the same cliff again.
After a few minutes, the first rays of the sun began to pierce the clouds, painting the sky gold.
He opened the book to the first page, positioned himself as shown in the illustration, and began to perform the sunrise technique.
Warm energy surged from the horizon—the sunlight seemed to wrap around him like fire, threads of orange-gold energy entering his skin, racing through his meridians.
"Ahhh!" he gritted his teeth. "This… this energy… it's so strong!"
He performed the technique three full times, feeling his spiritual energy spin faster and faster. His dantian pulsed violently.
Then—
BOOM!
A shockwave of black and blue light erupted around him, shaking the ground. His body trembled uncontrollably, and he let out a furious roar that echoed through the cliffside.
"AHHHHHH!"
A moment later, silence.
Xuan Yan stood there, gasping for breath, his eyes wide open. His entire body was glowing with blue spiritual light, but interlaced within it were faint threads of black energy swirling in rhythm.
He dropped to his knees, then lay flat on the ground, panting.
"Hah… hah… finally…" he whispered. "Finally… I fucking broke through!"
The morning sun rose higher, its warmth spilling over his face. For the first time in years, he smiled genuinely.
But that smile faded quickly as a foul stench hit his nose.
He frowned and looked around. "What the hell is that smell? Who the fuck farted here?"
No one answered. The area was completely silent.
Then, realization struck. He sniffed again—and froze.
"Wait… it's me?"
He looked down, eyes widening. A dark, greasy layer coated his skin—it reeked of filth and rot.
"Ugh! Shit!" he shouted, gagging. "So this is what body impurities smell like?!"
He ran toward the small pond beside his house and jumped straight into the water with a splash, scrubbing himself furiously.
"My body's impurities are finally being expelled," he muttered, half disgusted, half delighted. "Fucking hell, that smell could kill someone."
After cleaning himself for a while, he finally stepped out of the water, dripping wet but refreshed.
He raised his right hand and summoned his spiritual energy to his palm.
Blue light flickered across his skin—but this time, he noticed something new.
Mixed within the blue glow were thin streaks of black spiritual energy, swirling together in harmony.
He stared at it for a long moment, awe spreading across his face.
"So this is it…" he whispered. "The Yin-Yang energy… the inheritance he left behind."
A faint grin tugged at his lips.
"Looks like I'm no longer the trash they think I am."
After washing himself clean, Xuan Yan walked back into his small broken house naked, water dripping from his hair.
He picked up a folded set of clothes lying neatly in the corner — the same design as his old one, but fresh, new, and untouched.
"Now it's time to wear my new clothes," he muttered with a grin.
He dressed quickly, adjusting the black-bordered blue robe, feeling more alive than he had in years. Just as he was about to step outside, a dark ripple flashed before him.
The black box appeared once again in midair, humming softly before opening on its own. Another book floated out, its cover emanating faint crimson light.
The title read: "Tiger Vajra Palm."
Xuan Yan blinked, surprised. "Another technique? Damn, this technique is Master Grade Mid Tire."
He smirked. "I'll go to the Hall of Contribution later. First, I'll master this."