Morning.
They left the city behind in a streak of warped light.
This time, Ling Feng did not bother with walking. The Green Emerald thrummed in his Fate Palaces; space in front of him folded like cheap paper. He stepped through creases in reality as if strolling across a tiled floor.
Mountains flickered past like lantern shadows. Rivers blurred into silver threads.
One breath, they were above a caravan road. The next, the world snapped back into place around an old stone archway.
They stood before a narrow valley.
It wasn't some grand immortal grotto. Weeds pushed through cracked paving stones. The stone steps leading deeper in were uneven and chipped. At the end of the valley, a moss-covered ancestral hall slumped under a missing roof corner, tiles gone, beam ends exposed to the sky. Wind whistled through the broken eaves, carrying the thin smell of incense that had long since faded.
This was the Chi Clan's Ancestral Temple—the place where descendants of the Hundred Battles Godking had once knelt, knocking their heads on the stone for blessings before marching to war. Now, it looked like a forgotten shrine in a minor country.
Just like the clan that built it.
Near the temple, half-hidden under overgrown reeds, lay an old pond.
The water was dark, still, and unremarkable. To the ordinary eye, it was nothing. To those who knew, it was the entrance to the golden turtle earth vein—the origin of the Chi Clan's fortune, the place that had once produced a Heavenly Stone Golden Turtle for a Chi descendant and changed a life.
At this moment, a young man stood alone by that pond.
He wore simple clothes—no dragon-embroidered robes, no jeweled crown—but the way he carried his shoulders betrayed traces of royal upbringing. His eyebrows were thick; his eyes, honest and straightforward. Yet the lines at the corners of those eyes, the way his jaw clenched when he thought no one was looking, carried a frustration and weariness far beyond his years.
In his hands lay a stone turtle that faintly glimmered with earthy golden light.
He stared at it the way a prisoner might stare at a key that wouldn't fit the lock—his greatest hope, his deepest shackle.
"Chi Xiaodao," Ling Feng said casually.
The young man jolted. He spun around, instinctively shifting into a half-guarded stance.
"You…"
Ling Feng sauntered forward with his hands in his pockets, the corners of his mouth curved in that easy, irritatingly relaxed smile.
"Relax. I'm not here to rob your pond." He paused, then smirked. "Well. Not today. I came because I heard you've got someone in your heart and a bunch of idiots trying to ruin your story."
Chi Xiaodao blinked, utterly lost.
Behind Ling Feng, four figures dropped down like drifting petals—except every petal could cleave a mountain.
Li Shuangyan, robes like pure snow, stood with her usual cool composure, Pure Jade Physique quietly resonating with the earth vein. Chen Baojiao landed like a war goddess in red, heroic aura burning. Xu Pei alighted a step behind Ling Feng, like a shy little storm cloud gathering courage. Bai Jianzhen came last, straight as a drawn sword, silence sharp enough to cut fingers.
Chi Xiaodao's jaw went slack. He recognized the style of their uniforms immediately.
"Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect…?" he managed after a moment, gaze flicking from their robes back to Ling Feng. He couldn't see through this young man's cultivation at all. Rumors about Cleansing Incense had been running wild in the Eastern Hundred Cities. He swallowed. "Then you are…?"
"Their prime disciple," Ling Feng said. "Ling Feng."
He didn't bother to retract his aura entirely. To Xiaodao, he was like a shadow that the world itself refused to outline properly.
"I heard a few things on the road. About Lion's Roar. About Princess Bao Yun. About how your Lion's Roar Gate has fallen so far your royal clan can't even raise its voice in the Hundred Cities anymore."
Chi Xiaodao's expression twisted.
He tightened his grip on the stone turtle until the veins on the back of his hand bulged.
"That's… just how it is," he said bitterly. "Our Chi Clan is not the Chi Clan of the past. The Bao Yun Clan doesn't put Lion's Roar in their eyes. In the current Hundred Cities, we can't even compete with Tiger's Howl…"
He stopped. The words tasted like sand.
"My cultivation is trash. My physique and Fate Palace are out of balance. Even with this Heavenly Stone Golden Turtle, I—"
Ling Feng lifted a hand.
"Let me see."
The tone was casual. Too casual. But underneath that laziness was something else—an unshakable calm, the same kind of confidence Chi Xiaodao had once heard about in old veterans' stories, when they spoke of gods who walked battlefields as if taking a stroll.
His hesitation lasted a single heartbeat.
He placed the stone turtle into Ling Feng's open palm.
The instant Ling Feng's fingers closed around it, he felt it.
Deep, slow, stubborn earth. A heavy pulse that wasn't just energy but history—the solid breath of a clan that had once roared across epochs and now lay buried in dust. Bound into that vein was Chi Xiaodao's own foundation: a half-formed fate between ordinary and great physique, Fate Palaces that had opened halfway and then seized up, like a door jammed in its frame.
Chaos-tuned perception sank from Ling Feng's fingertips through the Heavenly Stone Golden Turtle, down into the golden turtle earth vein beneath the pond, then back up through Xiaodao's meridians in a single smooth loop.
He saw everything.
The Heavenly Stone Golden Turtle was too heavy for an unbalanced base. It had dragged Xiaodao forward in jerks and leaps, then slammed him, again and again, into bottlenecks he could never cross. Years of frustration had twisted his qi into knots, like ropes left in the rain until they hardened and cracked.
Ling Feng exhaled through his nose.
"I want you to skip," he said.
Chi Xiaodao blinked. "Skip…?"
"Realms." Ling Feng's gaze lifted to meet his eyes. "Those bottlenecks you treat like mountains? To me, they're loose bricks."
He tilted his head slightly, studying Xiaodao's face.
"You have someone you want to stand beside," he said. "Not behind. Not as some extra piece in a marriage match, but shoulder to shoulder. And you want enough strength that the people trying to sell her off like spirit stones have to shut up when they see you."
Chi Xiaodao's throat bobbed.
"Yes," he said hoarsely. "Bao Yun…"
Ling Feng's smile turned small but real.
"Good. Then hold still."
He stepped closer and tapped two fingers lightly against Xiaodao's chest.
Chaos Energy flowed.
It wasn't the wild, world-crushing storm he'd used to flatten old monsters. This was slow tide, deep and patient. The kind of tide that reshaped coastlines over time—but right now, compressed into a few breaths.
Energy slid through Xiaodao's meridians. It found knots and snarls, ignored their protests, and simply smoothed them out, widening channels, reinforcing weak spots, stitching torn pathways together. The Heavenly Stone Golden Turtle in Ling Feng's hand resonated, humming like a heart under his palm. That resonance sank into the golden turtle earth vein beneath the pond, then came back up.
He rewrote the way the vein fed power into Xiaodao's fate. Not breaking the Heavenly Stone's rules, but adjusting the angle, changing it from a dragging weight into a lifting force.
Within Xiaodao's body, Fate Palaces shook.
One, two, three—lit fully, their doors swinging wide. The third roared awake, then the fourth. Qi that had stagnated and gone sour moved again, fresh and sharp, rising like a river breaking through a dam.
"Too fast…" Xiaodao gasped.
His bones ached. His muscles felt as if they were being reforged in a kiln. Every breath came with the illusion of being split open and resealed at a higher grade.
"Breathe," Ling Feng said mildly. "If it feels like you're going to explode, let your Heavenly Turtle eat some of it. That's what it's there for."
Earth light erupted around Xiaodao's feet, spreading out in ripples. The surface of the pond shivered without wind; a faint golden turtle shadow surfaced and sank, surfaced and sank.
Li Shuangyan watched, eyes narrowing. She could clearly feel that Ling Feng was not simply pouring power in; he was… aligning things. Correcting the very root of Xiaodao's fate.
Chen Baojiao's lips curved, equal parts impressed and irritated. "This guy," she muttered under her breath, "fixes other men like they're broken toys."
Xu Pei pressed a hand over her chest, feeling the pulse of earth qi resonating faintly with her own Fate Palaces. Bai Jianzhen's expression remained calm, but the sword intent coiled in her eyes slowly loosened; even she could not deny the precision of what Ling Feng was doing.
When the light finally calmed, Chi Xiaodao swayed in place.
His qi was no longer stuck, no longer scattered. It surged and circled with a deep, measured rhythm. His cultivation had stabilized… at Royal Noble.
Not that shaky, hollow step some people achieved by burning away their future potential, but a solid, heavy foundation. If someone had examined his Fate Palaces without knowing his history, they would have thought he had walked that road step by steady step.
Chi Xiaodao stared down at his own hands like they belonged to someone else.
"This…" His voice shook. "Royal Noble…"
Li Shuangyan's eyes glinted with quiet approval. This was the sort of casually outrageous act she was already getting used to, but seeing it done to a young man with such open emotions tugged at something softer in her chest.
Chen Baojiao let out a low whistle.
"From stuck to Royal Noble in one breath," she said. "Young Noble, aren't you spoiling strangers now?"
Xu Pei smiled, bright and genuine. "Congratulations, Brother Chi."
Even Bai Jianzhen's gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer than usual on Ling Feng's hand.
Ling Feng flicked his wrist, tossing the stone turtle back. Xiaodao caught it on reflex.
"It's not free," Ling Feng said.
Chi Xiaodao jolted. "Excuse…?"
Ling Feng clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Go chase your girl," he said simply. "That's the price."
He squeezed once, fingers digging in just enough to ground Xiaodao in the moment.
"You got the strength. Use it properly. If the world looks down on Lion's Roar, you don't sit there complaining about decline. You make them look up again. If you let me catch you moping about status after this, I'll drag you back here and throw you in the pond to start over."
Chi Xiaodao's eyes reddened.
He bowed deeply, so fast he almost hit his head on the stone.
"Brother Ling… this debt…"
"Don't make it heavy." Ling Feng grinned. "Just bring her to your side. Let me watch a good romance for once instead of old monsters arguing about Heaven's Will. That's enough."
Behind him, his women watched with overlapping expressions.
Li Shuangyan's gaze grew more amused, and softer. Xu Pei's eyes shimmered; she looked like she'd just watched the ending of a moving play. Chen Baojiao snorted.
"You're usually so dismissive of other men," she said. "Today you go this far for one?"
Ling Feng shrugged.
"What can I say? I'm weak to earnest idiots," he said. "And I hate stories getting ruined by old fossils trading women like they're bags of grain."
Bai Jianzhen said nothing, but her gaze slid from Chi Xiaodao back to Ling Feng. In the depths of those sword-cold eyes, something shifted. A man who could cut fate this easily… what did his own path look like?
Footsteps sounded further down the path.
"Xiaodao?"
The voice was clear and crisp, with a faint thread of command—a voice used to issuing orders and having people obey.
A young woman walked into view.
She wore simple travel clothes, but the natural nobility in her posture couldn't be hidden. Her features were exquisite, like a finely painted scroll, but her eyes were sharp—eyes that had seen the ugliness of politics too early and had never forgotten it.
Chi Xiaodie. Imperial princess of Lion's Roar Country, future pillar of the Chi Clan, and, in another line of fate, the maid and war companion of a different monstrous youth.
She froze when she saw her brother.
"Your qi…" Chi Xiaodie's steps quickened. She stopped in front of Xiaodao, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. "Xiaodao, you…"
Chi Xiaodao smiled, still dazed, still drunk on the feeling of unobstructed flow.
"Jiejie," he said. "I… broke through."
Her gaze snapped to Ling Feng.
She was not naive.
A stranger she couldn't see through, standing casually as if he owned the place. Four terrifying women behind him—each with a presence that could sit beside the pride of any kingdom. Her brother's impossible advancement in the span of a few breaths.
Suspicion flared.
"This—" she began, her tone cold, wary.
Ling Feng lazily raised a hand.
"Don't twist your brain over it," he said. "I saw a kid stuck in a bad loop and a Heavenly Stone Golden Turtle being wasted. I pushed. That's all."
Chi Xiaodie's eyes narrowed.
"No one does 'just that' for free," she said. "What do you want from my Chi Clan… from Lion's Roar?"
He smiled, teeth flashing.
"Relax, Princess. If I wanted something from your Ancestral Divine Temple, I'd go knock on the godking's statue directly."
That answer only deepened her frown.
Only a lunatic or someone frightening beyond reason would say such a thing in this tone.
She folded her arms across her chest, chin lifting slightly.
"Then why—"
Ling Feng tilted his head, glancing toward the distant city.
"There's a dao lecture later in your imperial capital," he said. "By the Eternal River School's goddess. Mei Suyao. Immortal Bone, Alaya Heavenly Fragrant Dao, Heaven's Will contender, all that good stuff, right?"
Chi Xiaodie blinked.
"You… know of her?"
"Hard not to," Ling Feng said. "People along the road won't shut up about her. 'Goddess this, goddess that, fragrance that reaches the nine heavens'… it's laying it on a little thick."
Nearby, an elder of the Chi Clan who had just arrived almost choked.
"Be careful with your words, young man," he muttered, face paling. "That is the Eternal River School's successor…"
Ling Feng laughed.
"She's very talented," he said. "But talent alone doesn't impress me anymore."
He looked from Chi Xiaodie, to Chi Xiaodao, to his own women.
"If you have time," he said, voice turning quieter, more serious, "come listen. I'll show you a way to really break shackles. Not just paint pretty pictures with fragrant Dao."
Chi Xiaodie stiffened.
"You… will preach?" she asked.
Chen Baojiao's eyes lit up instantly.
"Oh, this I want to see."
Li Shuangyan's lashes lowered, hiding a knowing smile. Xu Pei swallowed, anticipation stirring like thunder in her chest. Bai Jianzhen's hand tightened almost imperceptibly on her sword hilt; a faint hunger, the hunger of someone seeking sharper edges, flickered beneath her calm.
Chi Xiaodao, still buzzing, blurted, "Jiejie, let's go! If Brother Ling says so… I feel like… my chances…"
"Don't speak nonsense," Chi Xiaodie snapped—but the rebuke lacked its usual weight. Curiosity had already taken root.
"Eternal River's goddess…" she murmured. "Alaya Heavenly Fragrant Dao…"
She looked back at Ling Feng.
"If you dare stand beside Mei Suyao on the platform," she said coolly, "I will watch. And judge."
Ling Feng grinned.
"Fair enough."
...
Lion's Roar Imperial Capital.
The heart of the country burned bright.
The grand square before the palace had been transformed. Layers of platforms rose one above another like steps to a celestial altar. At the highest point, draped with river-blue banners embroidered in flowing, wave-like script, stood a simple jade dais.
On that dais stood a woman.
She wore plain robes, nothing gaudy or jewel-encrusted, yet they draped around her with natural grace. Her features weren't the type that stunned at first glance; instead, the longer one looked, the deeper her beauty sank in. Her presence was like a quiet river washing dust from the viewer's heart without them noticing.
Her eyes were calm, clear pools that seemed to see past people without being dismissive—like she had looked at storms and chosen to remain still.
Mei Suyao. Successor of the Eternal River School. Bearer of the Immortal Bone. Heaven's Will contender whose name was thunder in the Hundred Cities.
As she slowly raised her hand, a fragrance spread.
It didn't come from flowers or incense. It came from the Dao.
Alaya Heavenly Fragrant Dao.
Visions bloomed.
To most cultivators, they were dreamlike. Petals of light floated down through the air, each carrying a tiny, precise stroke of Dao runes. A river wound through a field of stars, every bend outlining a method to bypass a bottleneck. An immortal figure strode from ancient past to distant future, each footprint solidifying into laws.
The square fell utterly silent.
The Lion's Roar Royal Lord and his ministers. Chi Clan elders. Bao Yun Clan members with complicated expressions. Visiting geniuses from smaller sects. Old cultivators who had lived through era after era. All closed their eyes, sinking into the fragrance.
A merchant whose meridian had been stuck for ten years suddenly felt a knot loosen.
A young girl on the verge of opening her second Fate Palace felt her qi flow smoother, the gate in her mind slightly less opaque.
A proud genius from a neighboring country saw, just for a moment, the flaw in his sword art that had kept him from truly connecting with his Life Treasure.
"Worthy of Eternal River's goddess," someone whispered, voice trembling. "To preach like this at her age…"
"She truly has the bearing of a Heaven's Will contender…"
In one section of the crowd, Chi Xiaodao stood with his back straight, hands unconsciously clenched. Sweat dampened his palms. Beside him, Chi Xiaodie's profile was cold and still, her eyes fixed on Mei Suyao's back. She had come as princess and as future Queen Bao Yun's sister-in-law, but at this moment, she was simply a cultivator listening to a path.
In another cluster, the Cleansing Incense group remained together.
Li Shuangyan closed her eyes. The Pure Jade Physique within her resonated, the towers in her Fate Palaces being gently polished, impurities in her dao heart dissolving one grain at a time.
Xu Pei's storm-like qi calmed. The thunderclouds that usually roiled in her chest grew orderly; for a brief moment, her lightning aligned with the rhythm of a greater river.
Chen Baojiao frowned.
"This fragrance…" she murmured. "It's beautiful, but it feels like someone putting a lid on my springs."
Her battle bloodline wanted to roar, but the Dao fragrance was constantly smoothing its edges, coaxing it into a well-behaved stream.
Bai Jianzhen's expression barely shifted, but her fingers had moved to rest on her sword hilt. Sword intent quietly coiled around her like a defensive sheath. She disliked anything that seeped uninvited into her Soul Sea—no matter how pleasant.
Next to them, Ling Feng stood with his hands in his sleeves, eyes half-lidded.
He saw what everyone else saw—the order, the grace, the carefully woven image of an immortal river flowing through ten thousand lives.
He also saw the frame underneath.
Alaya Heavenly Fragrant Dao traced the flow of existence from beginning to end, letting its cultivator influence, nudge, and eventually rewrite parts of that flow. Mei Suyao had walked very far along that path. The fragrance carried a faint echo of Immortal Emperor aura—the legacy of the three Emperors behind Eternal River.
To this generation, it was a miracle.
To Ling Feng… it was another well-made river inside a valley someone else had carved.
Beautiful. Profound. Bound by rules he had already stepped outside of.
'Pretty good,' he thought. 'If I were still playing by this world's system, I'd call it a cheat code.'
The fragrance washed over him, tried to seep into his meridians, and simply… failed. Chaos didn't clash with it; it stepped sideways, like a man letting a stream flow past his ankles.
He let her finish.
Only when Mei Suyao slowly lowered her hand and the fragrance lightened, like fog lifting under the sun, did he move.
He stepped onto a nearby stone pillar, then lightly onto the air itself.
He walked toward the dais, each step falling on nothing and making it into something.
The crowd stirred.
"Who is that?"
"A junior dares move right after Goddess Mei's preaching—"
"Does he want to die?"
Chi Xiaodie's brows knit. She recognized his silhouette instantly, even before the face was clear.
"He's really doing it…" she whispered.
Chi Xiaodao's heart leapt into his throat.
On the dais, Mei Suyao's gaze shifted.
Her eyes fell on Ling Feng.
He didn't have the suppressed, ancient weight of an old ancestor. He didn't carry the Virtuous Paragon's oppressive aura. On the surface, his cultivation looked like Named Hero, nothing more.
And yet she could not see through him at all.
It was like looking at a human-shaped fog, and behind that fog… something was watching back. Something vast. Something that did not belong to the neat categories this world used for power.
Her Immortal Bone pulsed once in warning.
The Eternal River School elders, sitting behind and to the side of the dais, straightened. Divine senses sharpened. One of the old men's fingers brushed the storage ring on his hand, ready to unleash a protective Emperor treasure at the slightest sign of disrespect.