Chapter 1

On the third day of the third month, spring daylight stretched across the sky.  

As dawn barely broke, the twenty-four towers of Pingchuan’s Immortal Market were already bustling with activity.  

Five days later, major sects would arrive in Pingchuan City to recruit disciples in large numbers. Every household in the city with children was restless with anticipation.  

Mortals who had never cultivated immortality dreamed of producing a golden phoenix from their family, while the Cultivation Second Generation—those who had already walked the path—hoped their children would surpass their own achievements. Thus, the triennial Ascension to Immortality Assembly was also a golden opportunity for merchants in the Immortal Market to make a fortune.  

Shops selling Elixirs and Magical Artifacts naturally thrived, but even inns and taverns were packed with customers. The waiter at Hongxing Restaurant had been on his feet all noon without a moment’s rest. Only when most diners had finally dispersed did he manage to clean the hall and carry a bucket of leftovers outside.  

Just as he reached the large vat used for collecting slop, half a head suddenly popped out from the waist-high container.  

The waiter jumped three feet in fright.  

“Who—who’s there, playing tricks?”  

“—Did your restaurant have a lot of leftover signature roast goose today?”  

Still shaken, the waiter squinted and realized it wasn’t some ghost or demon but a little girl of about four or five.  

Her cheeks were gaunt, almost hollow, but her large, bright almond eyes stood out starkly against her pale face. Clinging to the rim of the vat with both hands, she peeked out like a little mouse that had burrowed into a rice jar.  

Children from poor families often went hungry and wore tattered clothes, so scavenging leftovers wasn’t unusual—but climbing into a slop vat was a first.  

“You really don’t mind the stench of this thing, do you, kid?” Though the vat was scrubbed daily, it was still meant for slops.  

The waiter hauled the scrawny girl out with one hand, then chuckled at her earlier question.  

“There is some roast goose left, but since when do kids picking through scraps get picky?”  

“You just don’t understand,” the girl explained with utmost seriousness.  

“Rongdechun in the west has the cleanest leftovers because they only serve duck soup, braised duck, and roast duck. Rui Zhaiju in the east spoils the fastest because they serve day-old dishes right from the start. Your place has a lot of mixed flavors, but the food is tasty and fresh—if the weather’s cool, it takes two whole days to go bad!”  

The waiter was stunned.  

Who knew there was so much expertise in scavenging leftovers?  

He gave her a thumbs-up, genuinely impressed. “You’re practically a connoisseur of slops.”  

The girl grinned, even looking a little proud, before squatting down to rummage through the bucket.  

She picked through the scraps with such focus that tiny beads of sweat formed on her round little nose.  

Watching her bony frame, the waiter felt a pang in his chest.  

Some children could afford to turn up their noses at lavish feasts, while others had to dig through buckets of leftovers just to fill their stomachs.  

Life was unfair—that much was undeniable.  

“…There’s still one table of customers inside who haven’t finished eating. The food’s going to be thrown out anyway. Kid, why don’t you come with me? When they’re done, I’ll let you sneak in and pack it up when no one’s looking.”  

The girl’s eyes lit up instantly.  

Standing on tiptoe, she patted the waiter’s arm solemnly.  

“Don’t worry—if I ever rise to greatness, I won’t forget you. When I achieve success, I’ll repay your kindness of leftovers!”  

The waiter laughed. “What ‘success’ could a poor kid like you ever achieve?”  

The girl’s expression suddenly turned inscrutable.  

“Uncle, the waters run too deep here. You wouldn’t be able to handle it—better if you don’t know.”

The waiter: ?

The waiter dismissed her childish words with a laugh, but in truth, the little girl before him wasn’t joking at all.

Her full name was Gongyi Peng.

However, ever since she woke up from a severe illness at the age of three, she had known clearly that she wasn’t the original Gongyi Peng of this world.

So who was she, really?

When she was four, a Spirit Demon named Qiuqiu arrived at the Gongyi household.

Qiuqiu told Peng Peng that its true identity was a survivor of the Spirit Sparrow Clan from the great war between the Nether Capital and the cultivation world five hundred years ago.

And Peng Peng was actually the deceased Lord of the Nether Capital from five centuries ago. The Spirit Sparrow Clan had spent a hundred years searching for the Soul-Guiding Rebirth Method to resurrect her in the body of this dying little girl from the Gongyi family. Once she grew up, she would lead the Nether Capital to reclaim its former glory and take revenge on the Immortal Sects!

After listening to this lengthy explanation in a daze, Peng Peng only said one thing:

“Five hundred years… isn’t that Sun Wukong?”

Qiuqiu said it had never heard of Sun Wukong and asked if this person was some Great Demon from the Nether Capital.

Peng Peng didn’t know either. Occasionally, strange things would pop into her mind.

Qiuqiu studied this phenomenon and concluded that it might be because the Spirit Sparrow Clan’s cultivation was too weak, so some stray spirits had mixed in during the Soul-Guiding Rebirth Method. But it wasn’t a big problem—the Lord of the Nether Capital’s soul was formidable, and even if there were impurities, they wouldn’t affect much.

Peng Peng thought the problem might be a bit bigger.

Because she often felt like she wasn’t the Lord of the Nether Capital at all, but rather a transmigrator who had crossed into a book.

But what did “transmigrating into a book” or “transmigrator” even mean?

Pondering this further was too profound.

A child’s brain could only focus for about five seconds before growing too tired and shutting down, leaving only one thought: “I’m really, really hungry.”

In the blink of an eye, the waiter had already sneaked her in through the back door into the main hall.

Sure enough, only one guest remained in the hall. Just then, the cook called the waiter to the kitchen to help move something. Before leaving, he specifically warned Peng Peng to be smart—shops like theirs didn’t allow little beggars to scavenge for food, and if she got caught, she’d be beaten black and blue.

Peng Peng’s scalp tingled, and she quickly ducked under the counter, curling into a ball.

Through the gaps in the wooden counter, Peng Peng could just make out the back of the guest at the table.

The figure was slender and slight, dressed in blue robes embroidered with subtle cloud patterns, with a long sword at the waist—clearly a disciple of an Immortal Sect.

An Immortal Sect disciple…

The little girl curled under the counter began to daydream.

She thought of the Ascension to Immortality Assembly ten days from now.

Qiuqiu had told her that for cultivators, foundational talent was paramount. Afraid that its own shallow cultivation might hinder her path, Qiuqiu had agonized over the decision before finally making a choice that went against its ancestors’ teachings—

As the Lord of the Nether Capital, Peng Peng would “acknowledge the enemy as her master” and join an Immortal Sect!

Learn the enemy’s skills to defeat them—if you can’t beat them, join them!

Peng Peng didn’t fully understand, but she had one concern—

She was worried she wouldn’t pass the entrance exam.

“Waiter, the bill, please.”

Just as she was lost in thought, the voice of the Immortal Sect disciple in the hall snapped Peng Peng out of her reverie.

Peng Peng immediately focused, waiting for the guest to leave so she could rush out, sweep the leftovers from the table, and bolt for the door at top speed.

Combined with what she’d salvaged from the leftover buckets earlier, she and Qiuqiu wouldn’t have to go hungry for three whole days!

But before Peng Peng could make her move, her gaze suddenly landed on the Immortal Sect disciple’s sleeve.

Drip, drip—

Peng Peng tilted her head and stared thoughtfully at the man’s left sleeve for several seconds.

That liquid dripping down his arm… was that blood?

Someone was following him, Ji Shu realized.

This wasn’t surprising. The sect’s assassins had been pursuing him relentlessly. Just this morning, Ji Shu had eliminated one group, though not without sustaining serious injuries.

But the second wave had arrived faster than he’d anticipated.

Ji Shu took out a Heart-Protecting Pill, calmly calculating his odds against another wave of assassins in his current condition.

As he calculated, a detached thought crossed his mind:

…Perhaps this time, he should just give them what they wanted?

Death was already familiar to him—first time awkward, second time routine.

He had died nine times already. This was his tenth reincarnation.

With each rebirth, Ji Shu had pondered the reason. After much contemplation, he could only attribute his endless cycle to the heavy karma from his first life.

If that were true, then Heaven’s judgment wasn’t entirely unjust.

His first life had ended on a snowbound winter day.

That day, he had dyed the Supreme Clarity Capital crimson. The blood of his fellow disciples flowed down the grand mountain gates, staining three thousand steps scarlet. Before drawing his last breath, he had severed his senior brother’s head.

Yet when Ji Shu opened his eyes again, he found himself back at the year when that same senior brother had first brought him to the Supreme Clarity Capital.

Every lifetime since had been a nightmarish cycle.

No matter what he did, as long as he remained the unparalleled genius in the elders’ eyes, his senior brother—destined to become the Supreme Clarity Capital’s next leader—would inevitably develop a twisted jealousy.

Then would come the systematic slaughter of every friend Ji Shu had made within the sect, followed by elaborate schemes to frame him for practicing forbidden arts, culminating in the entire sect sealing him in an icy abyss for a century—

Leaving Ji Shu no choice but to kill him again and again.

But the rebirths never ceased.

By the ninth life, Ji Shu no longer felt hatred—only endless exhaustion.

So when he found himself reborn yet again, he resolved to leave the sect.

If his mere existence was the root of his senior brother’s evil, then perhaps his disappearance could break this cycle of bloodshed.

…If only he disappeared.

His pursuer hid behind a fir tree thirty zhang away. Their spiritual aura felt peculiar—he couldn’t gauge their strength.

But if even he couldn’t detect it, they must be at least his equal.

The young man lowered his gaze to the Heart-Protecting Pill in his palm, his expression calm and indifferent. Finally, he crushed it, simultaneously dispersing the spiritual energy protecting his heart meridian.

The deep forest stood silent, mountain winds embracing him.

Ji Shu glanced around, quite satisfied with his chosen burial ground. Content, he allowed himself to cough up blood and collapse heavily to the ground.

Nine lifetimes he had lived.

Now, just one sword stroke—from anyone, even a child—could instantly end it all…

Hm?

Wait, was that actually a child?

The little girl who’d been hiding emerged from behind the tree the moment he fell.

Her short legs carried her anxiously to his side as she crouched beside him, her first words being—

“Big sister, are you dead?”

“…”

The very much male Ji Shu found himself momentarily at a loss for where to begin correcting her.

The young man had a slender frame, lean to the point of delicacy, with peach blossom eyes that curved slightly at the corners. When he smiled, there was an androgynous beauty to his features—precisely why Ji Shu usually avoided smiling. His peach blossom eyes remained cool and indifferent, deterring anyone from daring to joke about how “this senior brother is prettier than a girl” in his presence.  

Peng Peng hadn’t noticed at all that this “sister” was actually a brother.  

At the moment, she was feeling rather troubled.  

In her plan, this cultivator sister should have easily noticed her following behind and called out to ask why she was tailing her.  

Then Peng Peng could explain that she had seen her bleeding, but it was okay—whether it was buying elixirs or guiding her to a clinic, Peng Peng was up to the task. Just give her the orders!  

After a few exchanges, as repayment, the beautiful sister would say:  

—”Ah, Peng Peng, you’re such a kind little girl. As thanks, I can grant you one request.”  

And Peng Peng would gaze at her with devout eyes and reply:  

—”Ah, sister, I have a friend who’s gravely ill. His dying wish is to see me become a disciple of an immortal sect. Could you help fulfill his last wish?”  

…What a perfect plan!  

But after following for a while, Peng Peng realized this sister was walking deeper into secluded areas—until she suddenly collapsed.  

Looking at the person lying in a pool of blood, Peng Peng grew a little scared.  

She grabbed their arm and shook it.  

“Sister, don’t die. I’m small and don’t have the strength to bury you.”  

“Sister, the storybooks say you immortals have Communication Artifacts. Try hard and call someone you know!”  

“Sorry, I’m talking nonsense. I don’t even know what ‘calling’ means.”  

“Oh no, sister, you’re covered in wounds. Are you really going to die?”  

The little girl’s voice, initially feigning composure, grew increasingly frantic, her childish tone tinged with sobs.  

Lying on the ground, Ji Shu felt a complicated emotion rise in his heart.  

There was no need to cry.  

He was steeped in bloodshed—it was time to atone.  

Seeing the last flicker of life about to leave him, Peng Peng wiped her tears and pulled out an oil-paper bundle from her sleeve:  

“…Sister, I’m sorry. If I’d known you were this badly hurt, I would’ve dragged you to a doctor sooner. If you’re really going to die, at least eat something so you don’t starve. Being hungry is awful. This is all the food you ordered at the restaurant earlier. I noticed you barely touched it, so I secretly packed it—it’s just… just mixed with scraps I fished out of the slop bucket. Don’t be disgusted…”  

Tears streaming down her face, Peng Peng unwrapped the bundle and was about to shove a piece of roast goose into the other’s mouth when she looked up and saw the nearly lifeless young man on the ground open his eyes.  

“Sister, you’re not dead!” Peng Peng exclaimed in delight.  

…He had been close.  

But upon hearing “slop bucket,” Ji Shu decided to open his eyes one more time.  

“The food won’t be necessary.”  

Ji Shu took off his Mustard Seed Pouch and placed it in Peng Peng’s arms.  

“There are some Spirit Stones inside, as well as Elixirs and Magical Artifacts. My fate is sealed, but our meeting today was destined. These are for you—they’ll aid your future cultivation…”  

Listening to the beautiful sister’s words, Peng Peng felt sorrowful and glanced down at the pouch in her arms.  

Money!  

So much money!  

And in the next second—  

“Sister, I think you can still be saved!”  

Ji Shu: ?

Without another word, Peng Peng immediately turned her back and half-lifted the young man who was twice her height onto her shoulder, using all her might to drag him toward the family residence.

She understood now.

When she got back, she would tell Qiuqiu that she wasn’t living out some tragic tale of a long-suffering villain—no, she had clearly stumbled into a story about a live-in son-in-law!

A wealthy, beautiful young lady falls into distress in a remote village, only to be rescued by a poor, down-on-his-luck man. Then, the poor man marries into her family, transforming from a lowly sparrow into a phoenix overnight, gaining both wealth and status. The son-in-law rises to power, turning his life around and saving himself at least a hundred years of struggle…

That’s how the stories always went!

Ji Shu never expected that after leaving her the Mustard Seed Pouch, she wouldn’t give up—instead, she became even more determined.

And since the child knew her five-year-old shoulders could never carry him away, she took a Spirit Stone from his pouch and somehow hired a donkey cart used for hauling feed. The cart driver, having been paid, wasted no time in efficiently lifting Ji Shu onto the wooden cart.

Bounced around on the donkey cart, his injuries worsening with every jolt, Ji Shu sighed.

Fine.

If she wanted to save him, so be it. Once he regained some strength, he could just find another place to die.

However, when the rickety donkey cart finally brought them to their destination, Ji Shu slightly lifted his eyelids and gazed at the golden plaque above the gate, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Gongyi Manor.

One of the four great Cultivation Families of the Soaring Void Realm.

The Gongyi family—renowned as the wealthiest in the Soaring Void Realm—had a child who had to scavenge for scraps to survive?