Chapter One: The Immortal Lord Reborn

The setting sun cast its dying light over the city of Nanqiu, bathing the towering walls in a golden glow. Moss crept along the corners of the ramparts, while citizens, merchants, and caravans queued at the city gates. Within, streets branched in every direction, lined with inns, shops, and bustling alleys. Children romped through narrow lanes; townsfolk hawked their crafts along the roadside. Wandering martial artists beat drums and gongs, drawing crowds to their performances. Wisps of smoke curled from the courtyards, shrouding dusk in a gentle haze.

Fang Wang, sixteen years old, stepped through the gates of the Duke’s Residence. He wore a fitted white robe, his bearing refined and handsome—part scholar’s elegance, part youthful hero’s vigor. The doormen greeted him with smiles, to which he nodded back, never putting on airs.

“The Shadowless Step truly lives up to its reputation. Soon, within five paces, no one could touch me.”

A smile played on Fang Wang’s lips. His internal energy had reached the fabled Mythic Realm; he had mastered the finest swordsmanship, palm techniques, and footwork of the age. He felt invincible.

After all, he was only sixteen!

He had been reincarnated for sixteen years, and now stood at the pinnacle of the mortal world. The rest of his life stretched before him—ripe for enjoyment.

As he walked on, imagining the future, the servants along the way greeted him, calling him “the Thirteenth Young Master.”

His grandfather, Fang Meng, was a founding hero of the Great Qi Dynasty, honored as a second-rank Duke. His father, Fang Yin, was the youngest son of Fang Meng. Among the third-generation grandchildren, Fang Wang was the thirteenth in age—hence his title.

In this dynasty, reminiscent of ancient times, the atmosphere within the Duke’s Residence was harmonious, not rife with intrigue—perhaps due to Fang Meng’s continued presence.

Leveraging the family’s connections and prestige, Fang Wang began collecting martial arts secrets at twelve. In four years, he had honed his skills to the point where he could project his inner strength outward like steel, his power elephantine. Yet no one knew this; all assumed he was merely an idle young master with dreams of the martial world.

As he entered a garden, he saw a group of maids chatting animatedly. His hearing was exceptional—he could make out their words even from thirty paces away.

“Zhou Xue has lost her mind, going around today saying our family will be wiped out.”

“I heard it too. She’s bold—visited every young lord in the residence. Her father, the Fourth Lord, has confined her to her room.”

“Who would dare destroy our family? Not even the Emperor would dare such a thing!”

“Hush, you shouldn’t say that.”

“The Fourth Lord dotes on his adopted daughter; she’ll probably be released in a few days. But did you hear? She claims to have been reborn. Isn’t that absurd?”

Fang Wang’s heart skipped a beat at the word “reborn.”

A reincarnator?

Had he not retained memories of his past life, he too would have dismissed it as nonsense. But he himself had been reborn—and could not help but wonder: what if it were true?

Would the Fang family really be destroyed?

He listened for a while longer, then made his way toward Zhou Xue’s courtyard.

His fourth uncle, Fang Zhen, had joined the army in his youth and nearly died on the battlefield, saved only by Zhou Xue’s father’s self-sacrifice. Even so, Fang Zhen was left permanently disabled. After leaving the military, he returned his savior’s ashes to his hometown. Zhou Xue’s mother, bedridden, lost all will to live upon hearing the news and passed away that very day. Fang Zhen had no choice but to bring the infant Zhou Xue back to the Fang family, adopting her as his daughter.

Zhou Xue was reclusive, rarely leaving her courtyard. In all his years, Fang Wang had only seen her a handful of times—a shy, delicate girl, about his age, with fine features.

The Fourth Lord doted on her; she had never been bullied. She shouldn’t have suffered a breakdown—could she truly be someone reborn?

Fang Wang’s heart sank. What force could destroy the mighty Fang family?

Could it be the Emperor’s will?

The Duke’s Residence was vast, occupying a fifth of Nanqiu City—like a city within a city. The household retainers numbered in the thousands. Sometimes, Fang Wang saw his eldest uncle drilling them in martial skills.

Could such a family really be annihilated?

Fang Wang quickened his pace. He gathered his energy, held his breath, and with his stealthy footwork, arrived soundlessly at Zhou Xue’s window to eavesdrop.

The room was silent, but his keen hearing caught her rapid, unsettled breaths.

After some time—

“Ah, I was once an Immortal Lord, yet back in my youth now, I can’t change my family’s fate. Is Heaven mocking me? If only I’d returned a month sooner, things wouldn’t be so dire…”

Fang Wang heard her faint sigh—inaudible to ordinary ears.

An Immortal Lord?

His heart trembled. He had heard many legends of immortals since his rebirth, but never of true reincarnation. Yet she spoke with such conviction—could it be true?

He dared not dismiss it. After all, he himself was reincarnated; encountering another was not so far-fetched.

The thought of his family’s destruction weighed heavily on him. This lifetime, his parents had been kind; his uncles were good men. He was fond of the Fang family—he could not bear to see them destroyed.

After a moment’s hesitation, Fang Wang forced open the window and leapt inside.

Zhou Xue did not startle. She sat calmly at her table, gazing at him.

She wore blue robes, her makeup delicate, her hair slightly tousled. Even so, she appeared dignified and composed—a noble lady in every sense.

They faced each other in silence.

“Your skills are impressive—I sensed nothing. Who are you?” Zhou Xue broke the quiet.

Fang Wang’s right hand, hidden in his sleeve, clenched involuntarily.

Was he truly so unremarkable in his own household?

Well, he had kept a low profile for sixteen years—never as flamboyant or talented as his elder brothers.

“I heard you claim to be reborn,” he said. “I’m willing to believe you. Since you are an immortal reborn, you must possess immortal arts. I don’t ask you to demonstrate them—just teach me a single technique. I have my own way to test its truth. If it’s genuine, I’ll believe your warning and help you change our family’s fate. After all, I am a Fang as well.”

In his mind was a celestial palace—discovered the first time he practiced internal arts. Whenever he cultivated martial skills, his consciousness entered this palace, where he needed neither food nor drink, and could remain until mastery was achieved before returning to reality. No matter how long he stayed within, not a moment passed in the real world.

This was how he had reached the Mythic Realm at sixteen.

Zhou Xue frowned, studying him, silent.

He sat across from her, poured himself tea, and waited.

Outside, the setting sun sank lower, the blood-red afterglow painting a scene of poignant beauty.

“Very well. I cannot let go of the Fang family. Though I do not remember who you are, you must be a member by your looks. You are the only one willing to believe me. I will teach you the Sword Control Technique—the foundation of immortal cultivation, the threshold between martial arts and the path of immortality.”

She spoke softly, and Fang Wang nodded, his heart pounding with anticipation and dread.

If it was true, disaster awaited the Fang family; but if so, the road to immortality must also be real.

Who would practice martial arts if they could cultivate to become immortal?

Zhou Xue began to recite the incantations and principles of the Sword Control Technique. Fang Wang listened intently.

The art required projecting spiritual power to control a flying sword. He had once heard a wandering swordsman say a Sword Saint had achieved such feats a century ago—could she have been an immortal cultivator?

As Zhou Xue spoke, she observed his expression, sighing inwardly.

“What am I doing, trusting this boy? He’s probably just curious. Yet to approach my window undetected, his martial skills can’t be low. Still, no one else believes me…”

She had spoken as much for her own sake—to vent her frustration.

A stick of incense burned; she finished explaining the technique.

As the last word fell, Fang Wang’s mind exploded, his consciousness transported into the grand and resplendent palace within.

His Celestial Palace!

At first, he had stood outside, reading the plaque. Now, he appeared inside directly.

The palace was vast, but he had found only this one hall. Weapons lined the sides; he could conjure any training tools or alter the environment with a thought.

“It’s real—it’s real!”

Fang Wang could barely contain his excitement. The Sword Control Technique was profound, and entering the Celestial Palace proved its authenticity. Such a skill could only belong to the path of immortality.

Most importantly—even immortal arts could be practiced in his Celestial Palace!

What did this mean? From now on, he could master any immortal method instantly—his greatest advantage.

He could not help but cheer.

Since childhood, he had longed to roam the world. He had planned to travel at eighteen, relying on his martial arts to live freely. Now, with the path to immortality before him, his wanderlust burned brighter than ever.

Once calm, the threat to his family returned to mind. Fang Wang began practicing the Sword Control Technique.

Training in the Celestial Palace was tedious. Mastering his internal arts had taken nearly twenty years; with all the martial secrets, he looked sixteen but had lived seventy or eighty years. Fortunately, the palace did not affect his physical lifespan.

He was already a master swordsman, so the principles were not hard to grasp. The only obstacle was that the technique required spiritual power, whereas he had cultivated martial energy. He did not know if it would suffice.

Ten years passed within the palace before he finally mastered the art to perfection—the technique’s highest level.

At that moment, his consciousness returned to reality.

…

After finishing her explanation, Zhou Xue watched Fang Wang, curious for his reaction. Yet his face remained unchanged, disappointing her.

“So, do you believe me or not?” she asked.

A glimmer of light flashed in Fang Wang’s eyes. He smiled, youthful vigor radiating from his face.

“I believe you! Such a technique could never be conceived by mortals. From now on, I’ll stand with you to change the Fang family’s fate!” His words were firm, though excitement threatened to overwhelm him.

Zhou Xue stared, her expression complicated—was it relief, gratitude, resignation, or amusement?

Outside, the sun dipped lower, as if to signal that time was running out. She could only trust the boy before her, just as he had chosen to trust her.