Chen Gensheng knew one thing with absolute clarity: as a cockroach, his capabilities were currently dwarfed by his ambitions.

  As he stared at the crystalline dregs of a discarded pill, he decided to gamble.

  Ancient records whispered that all things possessed a soul, merely waiting for a stroke of destiny to knock upon their door. In a place like Maple Red Valley, where the spiritual essence was dense, it wasn't unheard of for common flora or beasts to stumble upon a miracle and awaken their sentience.

  But for a cockroach to embark on the path of Cultivation? In all the hallowed annals of the immortals, such a thing was unprecedented.

  At that time, Chen Gensheng had no name. He was merely a mortal insect, driven by the primal instinct to seek pleasure and avoid pain. Inside the sect’s alchemy hall, he followed that scavenger’s instinct, scurrying toward the dregs of a pill.

  The result was pathetic. The dregs were too hard. An mountain of treasure sat before him, yet he had no teeth to claim it.

  However, a cockroach is a cockroach precisely because of the unyielding defiance bred into its exoskeleton. He circled the base of the dreg and discovered a layer of microscopic, shimmering dust.

  The moment he inhaled it, a bolt of lightning seemed to shatter the darkness of his mind. The once-blurry world snapped into terrifying focus. More importantly, images and concepts flooded his consciousness, things he had never known:

  Humans. Cultivation. Maple Red Valley.

  He finally understood his surroundings. This was a cultivation sect. What he had just consumed were the charred remains of a Foundation Establishment Pill. He learned that the sect’s highest powers were the aloof Core Formation Elders, and that the Sect Master’s surname was Chen.

  An epiphany washed over him. First came wisdom, then came thought.

  "I gained my sentience within the valley ruled by Sect Master Chen, and I forged my foundation from the scraps of a Foundation Pill..."

  "If I borrow his surname, would the world hate me for it?"

  "Fine. I shall call myself Chen Gensheng—Rooted in Life."

  The name was a tribute to his lowly origins and a proclamation of his rebirth.

  After consuming the pill dust, Gensheng’s mouthparts grew sharper and stronger. From the grains in the spirit fields to the leaves of spiritual herbs, he tasted everything. Since naming himself, his actions became bolder.

  Even the discarded lunar cloths of the female disciples, cast away as filth, were a supreme delicacy to him, rich with trace amounts of essence.

  Slowly, his six legs grew more powerful, his movements becoming a silent whisper in the dark. The Spirit Grain in the fields became his next target.

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  Night after night, he feasted.

  His insectoid frame grew from the size of a thumb to the width of two fingers, then three. The color of his carapace deepened into a void-like black, its texture evolving into something far harder than mere chitin.

  His diet continued to expand. One night, following a scent of iron and sweetness, he crept into the beast pens. Gensheng discovered that even the dung of spiritual beasts contained undigested spiritual energy.

  To become stronger, there was nothing he wouldn't endure.

  He even dared to approach the troughs of low-level spirit beasts. Once, while gorging himself at the trough of a Scarlet Flame Hog, the beast snorted, blasting a jet of searing heat. A normal insect would have been reduced to ash instantly. But Chen Gensheng held on, surviving through sheer tenacity and the flickering spark of Qi within him.

  He realized then: scavenging scraps was too slow. True growth required better treasures—or living Cultivators.

  Thus, his territory expanded. From the outer fields and beast pens, he began to seep into the dwellings of the Laborer Disciples.

  One year later.

  His body was now the size of a grown man’s palm. Pitch black, armored like plate mail, with six legs hooked like daggers. He moved through the shadows, a ghost in the dark.

  The story of Chen Gensheng truly began the day he decided to eat his first human.

  Outer Laborer Courtyard, Maple Red Valley.

  The dwellings here were little more than crooked mud huts that shed dust with every gust of wind.

  "Sss—!"

  A youth named Li Gou was struggling to apply medicine to a jagged wound on his leg.

  "Senior Brother, go easy," whispered the boy lying next to him. His name was Zhang San; his arm was bound in rags, his face as white as paper. His injuries were even worse.

  Li Gou paused, sighing heavily. "Brother Zhang, what kind of life is this? We nearly left our souls at Broken Cloud Cliff just for a few stalks of Iron-Spine Grass."

  "The supervisor just tossed us this bottle of low-grade Golden Sore Powder and walked away. Rubbing this on feels like grinding sand into an open wound. It burns like hell."

  "Quiet," Zhang San croaked, his voice raspy. "We are Laborers in the Qi Condensation stage. Our lives are as cheap as grass. To enter an immortal sect and seek a sliver of longevity is already a blessing from our ancestors."

  Li Gou slammed the medicine bottle down in frustration. "Blessing? From where I’m sitting, we’re just livestock working ourselves to death for the Inner Disciples and those 'Exalted' Elders!"

  A laborer’s life was indeed worthless. Every year, people died in dangerous chores, and the Sect didn't even bother with compensation. They would simply recruit another batch of wide-eyed mortal youths from the mountainside to fill the gaps.

  After a long silence, Li Gou leaned closer to Zhang San, his voice trembling slightly. "Brother Zhang... have you heard? Something strange has been happening in our courtyard lately."

  Zhang San opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused. "I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep. I haven't noticed."

  "It’s... it’s a Feilian (Cockroach)."

  Zhang San let out a pained chuckle. "A bug? You’re making a fuss over a bug?"

  "Brother Zhang, this is no ordinary cockroach," Li Gou whispered. "The thing is as big as my palm. Pitch black. And its shell... it seems to shimmer with a strange light."

  "A few nights ago, there were noises in Wang Wu’s room. He thought it was rats. But when he woke up, the half-loaf of wheat bread he hid by his pillow was gone."

  Zhang San winced as he shifted his arm. "A palm-sized cockroach? Li Gou, I think you hit your head too hard. This place is damp; bugs grow big here. It’s nothing special."

  "I saw it with my own eyes!" Li Gou hissed. "Yesterday at dusk, while I was clearing pill dregs, I saw a black shadow flash through the corner. It was fast—incredibly fast! If I hadn't been carrying a lantern, I would have missed it entirely!"

  "Hmph."

  Meanwhile, in the depths of the shadows, a pair of long, slender antennae twitched slightly in the night breeze.

  Chen Gensheng had been lurking there for a quarter of an hour.

  Waiting to feast.