Chapter 2: Lord of the Dongzhen Ruins

The bedrock of cultivation lies in the Dao Vein.

This "Dao" is not the narrow path of any single school, but the grand, overarching Dao itself. Regardless of whether one follows the tenets of Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism, Legalism, or any other path, the manifestation of the Dao Vein is the crucial first step in their journey of cultivation.

In the ancient age, those who were born with naturally manifested Dao Veins were hailed as the true "seeds of cultivation." However, the human race is not solely defined by innate talent, and the Vein-Opening Pill serves as a means to bridge this gap in cultivation aptitude.

By harnessing the power of the pill, the latent Dao Vein within the human body is brought forth. It also awakens the vital energy of heaven and earth, nurturing the physical form. This interplay of Qi and blood then fosters the nascent Dao Yuan, thus setting one upon the path of cultivation.

Truth be told, compared to the artifacts consumed in Zuo Guanglie’s explosive demise, the Vein-Opening Pill might not be considered particularly precious.

Yet, for this beggar, trapped in the clutches of despair, it represented the sole key to unlocking the boundless potential hidden within his own body.

A thousand years of hardship, with only death as the endpoint. Fate had cornered him, leaving him with naught but a desperate plea for heavenly grace!

Now, this beggar held the key to his hope.

His devotion was absolute.

With trembling hands, he clutched the jade vial, his quivering lips finding the opening. Tilting his head back, he swallowed its contents!

Beside him lay the silent ruins of a temple, while in the distance, the corpses of fellow beggars were strewn across the ground, their shattered bones and flesh a stark testament to the recent violence.

At this moment, the setting sun cast long shadows, the clouds scattered across the heavens. Corpses littered the wilderness, and the ailing beggar swallowed the pill.

The Vein-Opening Pill rolled onto his tongue, dissolving into a wave of warmth that coursed down his throat, spreading through his limbs and bones.

The beggar closed his eyes gently, and in that instant, a myriad of images flashed through his mind.

Toiling through the harsh winters and scorching summers, honing his sword in the spring and autumn.

Pursuing formidable bandits, engaging in life-and-death struggles.

In the end, he had descended the Western Mountain, a notorious bandit stronghold, his single sword leaving a path of carnage, rendering him a figure drenched in blood.

It was only then that he had obtained a single Vein-Opening Pill.

How many years had he spent, yearning to touch the world of transcendence?

He had poured every ounce of effort into his pursuit, every moment a relentless struggle for advancement. How had he fallen to this state?

His mother had passed away early, and his father, who later succumbed to illness, had all but depleted their meager family savings.

He was alone, his own sole support.

He had fought tooth and nail to enter the Dao Academy, distinguished himself in the fiercely competitive outer courts, and finally, for the first time, grasped the key to transcendence.

But immediately thereafter...

Poison struck, followed by an ambush.

He had fought desperately, carving a bloody path to survival, and to evade the relentless pursuit, he had blended into the ranks of beggars.

He had intended to wait for an opportunity, but his body had begun to fail him.

He grew weaker and weaker, until he could only lie helplessly on a pile of straw, awaiting death.

He had dragged his ailing body out to search the battlefield, fueled by a stubborn refusal to surrender, and unexpectedly, he had stumbled upon a Vein-Opening Pill!

Why a powerful figure like Zuo Guanglie would carry a Vein-Opening Pill was a question lost to time, its reason vanishing with the legend of his life.

But for the beggar, his story had just begun anew.

Fate is indeed unpredictable, and nothing embodies this more.

The beggar turned his awareness inward, sensing the ineffable changes occurring within his body.

He felt the warmth emanating from every corner, "swimming" through him in a way he couldn't comprehend, ultimately converging towards his spine.

This process was slow, yet remarkably clear.

After an indeterminate period, a faint force emerged from his coccyx, ascending along the spinal line, higher and higher. It felt akin to an earthworm making its arduous way upstream in a river.

The journey was difficult, but the warm energy from every part of his body continuously fueled it... The "little earthworm" finally completed its long traverse, piercing the spinal line, and surging directly towards his celestial spirit!

A miracle unfolded.

He seemed to perceive light within his own form.

Warmth erupted from his limbs, bones, and every inch of his flesh.

He no longer felt cold, no longer felt weak, no longer felt pain.

The Dao Vein had manifested, and vitality surged.

The beggar opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and spirited.

He felt an overwhelming surge of strength, and for the first time in a long time, he held his destiny firmly in his own hands!

His Dao Vein had now appeared. Though its true spirit was but a humble little earthworm, it signified that he could officially embark on the path of transcendence.

Soaring through the skies, burrowing beneath the earth, entering and exiting the realms of the Qingming — these were no longer unattainable dreams!

One day, Gongyang Bai, Mo Jingyu, and even Zuo Guanglie, Li Yi... these prominent figures with thunderous names, what they could achieve, he could achieve too!

...

The beggar rose to his feet, his gaze falling upon the heap of shattered flesh at his feet.

Life gazing upon death, the beginning linked to the end.

He buried Zuo Guanglie and the fallen beggars outside the ruined temple. Even with his newly awakened Dao Vein and burgeoning energy, it was not until the moon hung high in the sky that he completed the task.

It was a small, seemingly insignificant act, but it was a principle he lived by.

Though the group of beggars had abandoned him in his time of danger, they had not deserted him during his final, dying days. While they could not provide him with medical aid, they had at least offered him sips of water.

Based on this, now that he possessed the ability, they deserved a burial. To avoid suffering in this life, and to not be helpless in the next.

People believed that only burial brought peace. In the vast and benevolent embrace of the earth, the souls of the departed could find rest.

Finally, the beggar stood before Zuo Guanglie's tomb.

"The one who buries you is no unknown person. Zhuang Guo, Qinghe County, Fenglin City..." Beneath the moonlight, the beggar stood before the small mound, his body caked in dirt, his hands covered in mud, but his back was straight, and he spoke his name with unparalleled confidence: "Jiang Wang."

A tiger yet without its stripes, but possessing the aura of a beast capable of devouring oxen.

"Nor did you die in an unknown place. This is called Huanzhen Temple. Though the weathered plaque is difficult to read, and it is not well-known, it will surely become known to the world because of you!"

Having spoken these words, Jiang Wang bowed deeply and earnestly: "May you rest in peace in the heavens."

This bow was not solely for the Vein-Opening Pill left behind by Zuo Guanglie, but also for the compassion, magnanimity, and courage he had displayed.

A figure like Zuo Guanglie deserved all due respect.

Tonight, the moon was full, its bright light illuminating the fresh earth of the new tomb.

In the darkness, it seemed as if a gentle breeze stirred.

Jiang Wang saw shimmering specks of silver light drift from Zuo Guanglie's tomb, slowly rising in the moonlight, converging into a small, silvery crescent moon. It hovered above the new tomb, within Jiang Wang's reach, appearing both mysterious and noble.

"This is..."

Inspiration struck Jiang Wang.

He reached out and grasped the silver crescent moon.

Darkness engulfed his vision.

In the almost boundless darkness, a gentle voice resonated. This voice seemed to contain the principles of heaven and earth, the mysteries of the Great Dao itself. To hear it was to feel one’s heart clear and mind bright.

"Welcome, Lord of the Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land!"

In the next instant, a point of light appeared, followed by countless more.

An overwhelming torrent of light obscured his sight. When Jiang Wang’s vision returned, he saw before him, in the vast darkness, a dazzling river of stars, surging and swirling!

And before this celestial river stood a youth.

This person’s eyes were bright, his nose high and straight, and his expression gentle, as if devoid of any aggression. Only his slightly pursed lips hinted at a trace of stubbornness. Apart from a Daoist robe of an unknown material, he bore no other adornments.

Jiang Wang was stunned.

For this youth was himself. Although his clothes were different, and he was far cleaner and more vibrant than his current state, how could he possibly mistake himself?

And he was, in a sense he couldn't yet comprehend, "watching" himself.

"Insufficient Dao Yuan feedback. Daoyan Stage, nineteen layers sealed."

The gentle voice echoed again in the vast starry expanse.

"Daoyan Stage, eighteen layers sealed."

...

"Daoyan Stage, two layers sealed."

Each time this sentence appeared, the starry sky before him dimmed slightly.

Jiang Wang struggled to grasp the meaning of all he observed, and then he heard:

"Three-Rank Sword-Debate Stage sealed."

"Four-Rank Sword-Debate Stage sealed."

Just as before, this continued until "Eight-Rank Sword-Debate Stage sealed," before finally ceasing.

The meaning of this eluded Jiang Wang, but it seemed connected to his current lack of strength. The phrase "Lord of the Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land" should rightfully belong to Zuo Guanglie, not him.

At the same time, he noticed a line of text he had never seen before floating within his field of vision.

These characters were entirely different from the Zhuang Guo language he had learned, utterly unfamiliar, yet he clearly understood their meaning.

"Merit: one thousand eight hundred and fifty points."

As Jiang Wang pondered, the self he "saw" suddenly took a step forward and merged with him.

The process was so brief it was almost imperceptible. Jiang Wang moved his hands and feet, finding everything perfectly under his control. In this mysterious realm, he finally possessed a form of physical presence.

And in the next moment, the stars in the vast void suddenly churned, and an entire dazzling river of stars rushed towards him!

He was swallowed by the starlight.

Time seemed to lose all meaning. When Jiang Wang regained his senses, he found himself in a space filled with immortal energy, and simultaneously, a flood of information coursed through his mind.

This was the world of the Tai Void Illusion Realm, and the Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land he occupied was contained within this realm.

The silver crescent moon he had grasped was called the Void Key, the means to enter this place. It utilized the power of the Taiyin Star to draw the host's spiritual consciousness into the Tai Void Illusion Realm.

Everything here was a simulation. Apart from the fact that it wouldn't cause actual harm to the host's physical body, everything was identical to reality.

The Daoyan Stage was a place for deducing techniques and Taoist principles, and the cost for such deductions was "Merit."

The Sword-Debate Stage was specifically for navigating the Tai Void Illusion Realm and sparring with other cultivators.

"Merit" was primarily gained through combat. In battles of equal rank, victory earned merit, while defeat incurred a deduction. Challenges against higher ranks came with corresponding bonuses.

Additionally, there were other means of obtaining merit. For example, certain Blessed Lands and Grotto Heavens would periodically generate "Merit."

Among the seventy-two Blessed Lands, the lowest-ranked Donghai Mountain Blessed Land produced one hundred merit points each month. The lower thirty-six Blessed Lands increased production by ten merit points for each rank higher. The upper thirty-six Blessed Lands increased production by one hundred merit points for each rank higher.

The Dongzhen Ruins Blessed Land occupied by Zuo Guanglie ranked twenty-three and could produce one thousand eight hundred and fifty merit points per month.

These were Jiang Wang's current resources.

Though he was not yet fully aware of their specific uses, Jiang Wang could already hear the rapid beating of his own heart.

This place... this place!

This world of resplendent stars seemed to hold a monumental secret.

Simply the Daoyan Stage and Sword-Debate Stage it displayed had unveiled a vast and turbulent world.

Deducing the Dao in a Blessed Land, debating swords in the starry sky – how magnificent!

And before today, Jiang Wang had never even heard its name.

His emotions surged for a moment, until his gaze fell upon a sundial's shadow, and he saw these words:

The Lord of the Blessed Land will accept the challenge of the Lord of the Twenty-Four Green Jade Palaces of the Blessed Land in fifteen days.

Failure will lead to demotion.

The five characters were as black as ink, each word carrying the weight of a thousand pounds.