Chapter 1: Good and Evil Ultimately Come Full Circle

The mountain road was treacherous, so he decisively abandoned his horse and followed the bloodstains on the path. His prey, a lame ibex, briefly appeared halfway up the mountain before disappearing into the dense jungle.

The sunlight couldn't penetrate the thick forest, casting heavy shadows everywhere. Though it was midday, dew from the previous night still clung to the myrtle berries. The ground was covered with various leaves, and gnarled old roots intertwined beneath, easily tripping anyone.

Tracking was difficult in such an environment, but he still found a few drops of fresh blood on the leaves and a small tuft of fur rubbed against a tree trunk. Yes, this was the right direction. Ibexes indeed had a habit of climbing higher when faced with danger.

He quickly ascended, unaware that from the jungle shadows thirty feet ahead, a pair of eyes was fixed intently on him. Those eyes burned with astonishing fury and hatred.

After scrambling over a large rock on the ridge, he saw the ibex again, its head lowered, licking a wound on its leg. Just as he reached for the bow and arrow on his back, his peripheral vision caught sight of a shadow rushing towards him, moving with the speed of light. What was that...? Before he could finish his thought, the creature pounced on him.

It was an enormous leopard, its size comparable to a fierce tiger, its front paws larger than his head, and its fur bleached and faded like sand. The giant leopard opened its mouth, and a foul stench hit him. He instinctively raised an arm to shield his vital organs. With a crunch, his forearm, wrapped in armor, was bitten straight through; he wasn't sure if the bone was fractured. The creature's powerful lunge made him lose his footing, and he tumbled down the ridge.

The leopard grappled with him, tearing at him savagely. He couldn't help but scream, but that didn't stop his other hand from drawing a short knife from his waist and plunging it into his attacker over a dozen times, creating many bloody holes! The weapon cut through flesh like butter. Not only did it grievously wound the leopard's internal organs, but the two stabs to its chest also gushed blood, splattering his face and hair.

All living creatures possess an instinct for survival; even the fiercest beast should abandon its enemy and flee at this point. But this one, inexplicably, did not! It dragged him, desperately charging forward, leaving a trail of blood behind them.

He looked into the leopard's blood-red eyes and realized it was insane. A sand leopard shouldn't be here at all! Where did this damned creature come from? It even roared a human phrase at him: "You'll never get the divine bone!"

"Let go! Let go!" He was terrified, his soul nearly flying out of his body. He stabbed the leopard's neck three more times, using all his might to break free. There was no way to survive falling down there!

Yet, even such severe injuries couldn't stop the leopard. The next second, both bodies became weightless. Man and leopard, entangled, plummeted into the hundred-foot abyss. Even as it fell, the leopard managed one last vicious act, biting down on his neck.

With a soft crack, the protective pendant around his neck burst into red light and shattered. In that instant, the last image seared into his vision was four blood-stained fangs!

"Ah—!"

He Lingchuan sat up with a shout, startling everyone around him. The maid closest to him recoiled three steps in fright. Then, an unremarkable man, seemingly appearing from nowhere, stood beside him, scanning the surroundings. "Young Master?"

Before him was an exquisite small hall. Two screens depicted fantastical mountains and flowing rivers. In the center stood a stage, where actors were impeccably dressed and made up. Below, an audience of over two hundred people were cracking melon seeds, sipping tea, and chatting animatedly, all now looking up at him. Yes, he was in a private box on the second floor. A subtly sweet goose-pear incense burned in a corner. On a silver platter nearby, water droplets still clung to grapes and honeydew melon.

This was a playhouse called 'Immortal Plucking Terrace,' not the edge of a hundred-foot cliff. He Lingchuan collected himself, instinctively pressing his neck. "I'm fine." There had been four deep teeth marks there, barely half an inch from his carotid artery, but they were now healed, covered with tender, red new skin. He had at least a dozen such fresh scars all over his body. A necklace still hung around his neck. He distinctly remembered this round protective jade pendant shattering into eight pieces under the leopard's tremendous force. Yet somehow, upon waking, it was perfectly intact around his neck. He didn't know when he'd developed the habit, but whenever he had nothing to do, he'd instinctively touch it, as if the object held some inexplicable connection to him.

Another wealthy young master, Liu Baobao, was also in the box. Seeing this, he snapped his fingers at a servant nearby. The servant immediately moved to the railing and called down, "Young Master has woken up, carry on!"

Opera in the state of Yuan was typically short and fast-paced, focusing on novelty and innovation, often getting straight to the point without lengthy arias. Young people enjoyed it, treating it more like storytelling. Today, Immortal Plucking Terrace had prepared two new plays, featuring famous performers. However, shortly after the performance began, Young Master He upstairs fell asleep. The next part was an intense martial arts scene, and Liu Baobao, fearing he might disturb his friend's peaceful slumber, had paused the show mid-performance. This wait had lasted over half an hour, and the audience downstairs had begun to murmur with slight irritation. Fortunately, the guest of honor had now woken up.

The sounds of strings and flutes softly resumed downstairs. A clear, resonant male voice sang, "Let's speak of the golden ox, the protective divine beast released by the Kingdom of Xiluo, which was invincible wherever it went—"

He Lingchuan frowned. This play again? He had just fallen asleep listening to this very play. Was it starting over?

Liu Baobao noticed his expression and immediately chuckled, "Don't you like it, Brother Chuan?"

He Lingchuan slowly replied, "It's too tame."

In truth, this was a special performance arranged by Liu Baobao; he was the one paying for it, and he had personally selected the lead performers over two months ago. Immortal Plucking Terrace had spent a fortune to bring this entire opera troupe from the mainland to the remote, godforsaken Blackwater City. Yet, the true VIP of the whole establishment was the sleepy-eyed man in front of him. He added, "Next time, let's go to a different playhouse. And don't call it 'Immortal Plucking Terrace.' Are immortals peaches that can be plucked so easily?"

Liu Baobao chuckled, "This place was originally called 'Star Plucking Terrace,' but the owner later thought the character for 'immortal' would be better for business. It's like naming something after what you lack."

He Lingchuan narrowed his eyes. "Oh, so Blackwater City lacks immortals?"

"No, no, not at all! Blackwater City has Lord He, and that's more than enough!" Liu Baobao quickly assured him. "What are immortals anyway? They're ethereal beings of legend, only fit for storybooks. Who could possibly miss them?" He quickly changed the topic. "So, shall we switch to Lord He's 'Mountain of Settled Blades'?"

"Alright." Since his own father's name had been brought up, how could He Lingchuan refuse? He leaned back, half-closing his eyes as he reclined on the soft couch. The middle-aged man waved away the surrounding attendants before quietly asking him, "Are those nightmares back again?"

"Hmph," he scoffed, denying it. "No!"

"Impossible!" He Lingchuan emphasized, leaving no room for argument. "Uncle Hao, let's watch the play." This was an unnecessary addition, but it fit his character. Uncle Hao, the middle-aged man, didn't argue and stood silently to the side.

The lead performer's skill was remarkable, drawing cheers and applause from the audience. He Lingchuan watched for a while, then his gaze drifted to the curling smoke from the incense burner, and he found himself lost in thought again.

In truth, he was not He Lingchuan. The real He Lingchuan was likely gone. He was merely an unknown nobody from another world, an inexplicable replacement. His daily life involved a mundane job at an unremarkable company, earning an equally unremarkable salary. As a young man full of vigor, he often felt a sense of dissatisfaction. However, no matter how passionately he railed and criticized in private, he would immediately present a picture of calm and prioritize harmony when in public. Society's harsh realities always molded people into the cogs it desired. With the economy in decline, his company had been delaying salaries for three months. Yet, he couldn't boldly declare, "I quit! You can go to hell!" and walk away.

How did he get here? He couldn't say for sure. He just remembered lingering around a restaurant entrance for a few minutes that day before kindly deciding to support the street vendor at the corner. After all, making a living exposed to the wind and cold in the dead of winter was tough.

"Boss, one jianbing, extra scallions, extra sauce... no egg or meat... yes, none."

No sooner had he spoken than he saw a car swerving towards a little girl on the roadside. The driver panicked, making the car accelerate even faster. A tragedy was unfolding right before his eyes. Without a second thought, he did the bravest thing he had ever done in his life: He lunged forward and scooped up the girl... Did he get hit by the car? No, not at all. He was unharmed. He returned the child to the rushing parents and even admonished the girl, telling her to "remember to look where you're going" in the future, before turning around.

He had barely taken two steps when a flowerpot fell from the sky, striking him precisely on the head. And so, he was sent here.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in bed, his entire body aching. The room was decorated in an antique style. People around him looked delighted, and a handsome middle-aged man, with tears in his eyes and an excited voice, exclaimed, "Lingchuan, you're finally awake!" He touched his head and realized he had become He Lingchuan, the eldest son of He Chunhua, the Prefect of Qiansong Commandery in Yuan State's Jin Province.