At the end of every year, every clan, every family, and every city would erupt into a tide of noise—as if the whole world were violently and solemnly bidding farewell to one year and welcoming the next.

  In the south of the Northern Wind Nation stood Dark Moon City.

  The Bai Clan was holding its annual assembly. It was not merely a celebration, but an unwritten declaration of the balance of power within the clan.

  Accounts were settled.

  Resources were distributed.

  Those who proved their worth were elevated.

  Those who showed weakness were trampled underfoot.

  Tonight was not a celebration.

  It was a selection.

  On the combat platform stood a heavily built young man named Bai Chen.

  His foot pressed firmly against the chest of his opponent.

  That opponent was none other than Ling Fan.

  Ling Fan’s face was battered with bruises. Blood slowly dripped from his nose, and his arm bore the marks of several fractures, its skin already turning shades of purple and blue.

  His silky black hair—once the envy of many girls—was now messy and disordered. His torn clothes were stained with blood and wounds.

  Despite the natural handsomeness of his features, every trace of it had vanished beneath a face filled with pain and suffering.

  His head tilted slightly.

  His black eyes were open…

  Yet they reflected nothing.

  Because they could not see.

  This cruel sight stirred neither sympathy nor pity.

  Only laughter.

  What drew attention was not his fall—

  but the fact that he had not surrendered.

  “HAHAHAHA! That damned blind fool really doesn’t know his limits!”

  “Exactly… Even though he could surrender, he refuses to even faint. Why doesn’t he just give up?”

  “Give up? Forget it! I hope he doesn’t! Otherwise where would we find entertainment like this?”

  Mockery echoed around the arena while the boy continued to receive blow after blow without the ability to resist.

  “This is his third year, and the third time he’s been beaten unconscious in a row. Leaving aside that he’s blind, he’s been stuck in the fourth stage of Body Tempering for three years. Meanwhile, his opponent is already in the fifth stage and can reinforce his attacks with internal power. Even if he could see, his fate wouldn’t change. All he can do is endure the beating, hahaha!”

  “Shut up! If he could see, no one here would dare stand in his way. After all, he reached the peak of the fourth Body Tempering stage and possesses a secret strength that allows him to defeat cultivators beyond his level.”

  The speaker wore a serious expression, but the crowd only burst into louder laughter.

  The atmosphere was heavy.

  The air was thick with the scent of blood.

  Sand scattered beneath the feet of the crowd, while the setting sun cast long shadows across the pillars of the arena, making the scene even darker.

  The sounds of the audience—murmurs, shouts, applause, sighs—mixed with the dull thuds of bodies striking the ground, forming a symphony of pain that was impossible to forget.

  Yet the boy, despite the blood, tears, and relentless blows, made no sound.

  Only faint, uneven breaths escaped him.

  His silence was deeper than words.

  It carried anger, pain, and a hidden resolve that none of them knew yet.

  At that moment, the judge—an elderly elder—announced the end of the match.

  Bai Chen lifted his foot from the boy’s chest, declaring his victory. But the mocking look on his face was enough to humiliate the body lying before him.

  The judge then spoke, ordering a servant to carry the boy back to his residence.

  His voice seemed to carry an unspoken message.

  “Who’s going to move this piece of blood-soaked trash?”

  And so, in this tragedy—amid laughter and violence—Ling Fan did not know that the will being tested so brutally tonight would one day lead him beyond all limits.

  As the sun set, the arena gradually emptied.

  The platform was left silent and deserted.

  In the darkness, Ling Fan’s fingers finally twitched.

  He slowly regained consciousness.

  His body tried to move, but the pain was far beyond what he could endure.

  In the end, he could only sink into a deep sleep until dawn arrived.

  As dawn slowly approached, most members of the clan had yet to awaken.

  Ling Fan regained consciousness.

  The pain was familiar.

  He could identify the location of each fracture without even touching them.

  Slowly, he rose to his feet, relying on carefully measured steps.

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  Since losing his sight three years ago, he had learned to hear the echo of the wind against walls, to recognize the roughness of the ground beneath his feet, to memorize every corner of his residence.

  Darkness was not emptiness.

  It was another world.

  He sat on his bed and began breathing according to the Bai Clan’s Body Tempering Technique, trying to sense the power of heaven and earth.

  Fourth Stage.

  Three full years.

  He knew what was required.

  To sense the energy of heaven and earth.

  To draw it inward.

  To condense the first thread of internal power and officially step into the Fifth Stage.

  But the void within him was absolute.

  No response.

  No echo.

  As if something… was missing.

  Yet he did not stop.

  Before he could sink deeper into meditation, familiar footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.

  They continued down the hall until they stopped in front of his room.

  Another sound accompanied them.

  Crying.

  Ling Fan immediately forced a faint smile onto his face despite his exhaustion.

  The door burst open.

  A middle-aged woman rushed inside.

  “Mother… don’t cry. I’m fine.”

  The woman—Li Chan, Ling Fan’s caretaker who he regarded as his mother—continued crying.

  “Fine? How can you say you’re fine? Your body is shattered… why don’t you give up martial arts?”

  Her voice trembled with sorrow.

  “You are all I have… the most precious thing left to me after everything I’ve lost. I have no reason to live if you lose hope. All I want is for you to live a normal life… happily.”

  Ling Fan fell silent.

  Bitterness filled his chest, but his face revealed nothing except that faint smile.

  He did not respond.

  Seeing this, Li Chan stopped pressing him further.

  She understood that her words would only cause him more pain.

  She embraced him gently, applied ointment to his wounds, changed his clothes, and treated his bruises with care.

  After nearly two hours of conversation and quiet comfort, the two finally parted.

  Ling Fan sat alone in his room again.

  Although he had cleaned himself and received the most basic treatment, every small movement still caused burning pain.

  Just as he was about to return to meditation, a sharp knock suddenly struck the door.

  It was extremely irritating—as if the world refused to grant him even a moment of peace.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened.

  A young maid entered.

  Her tone was not rude, yet it carried no respect.

  “Young Master Ling. The Council of Elders summons you.”

  She did not wait for a reply.

  Ling Fan smiled faintly.

  Even titles had become nothing more than formality.

  She neither bowed nor showed the slightest respect before turning and leaving.

  Ling Fan sighed once more.

  In this place… even the lowest servants had begun to look at him with contempt.

  He stopped meditating and slowly stood up.

  The pain never left him.

  It accompanied every step.

  Yet he walked steadily toward the Council Hall of Elders.

  The hall was vast and cold.

  More than thirteen elders sat in a half-circle.

  Ling Fan stood alone in the center.

  One of the elders stepped forward.

  It was the Second Elder, the one responsible for punishment and enforcing the clan’s laws.

  “Ling Fan. Do you know why you have been summoned?”

  Ling Fan replied calmly.

  “I do not know, sir.”

  Another elder slammed the end of his staff against the ground.

  “Stop trying to evade the truth! Confess now. It will be better for you!”

  But the Second Elder raised his hand and continued in an even colder tone.

  “A secret martial technique was stolen from the residence of the Fourth Young Master. After tracing the evidence… it led us to you, Ling Fan. Do you admit your crime?”

  Silence filled the hall.

  Ling Fan’s mind wandered briefly.

  He was not a fool.

  He already knew why he was here.

  They wanted to strip him of every resource he could receive and suppress him completely.

  They could not do so openly—doing that would stain the clan’s reputation.

  But if it happened under the guise of a “just punishment,” no one would dare object.

  He returned to the present.

  His voice did not tremble.

  His breathing remained steady.

  After a short silence, he spoke calmly.

  “Since the Elder already believes me guilty… why ask me at all? If the verdict has been decided, what is the purpose of this interrogation?”

  Several elders’ expressions changed.

  There was no open defiance in his tone.

  But there was no submission either.

  At that moment, the doors of the hall opened again.

  A group of men entered with stern faces. A young man walked at their front, holding a book.

  Behind them stood the same maid who had summoned him earlier.

  The young man stepped forward and knelt on one knee.

  “Second Elder, we found this martial technique—Flame Fist—in Young Master Ling Fan’s residence. After investigation, we confirmed it belongs to the Fourth Young Master. Additionally, this maid testifies that she personally saw Ling Fan leaving the Fourth Young Master’s residence while carrying a book.”

  The maid stepped forward, bowed with practiced obedience, and spoke confidently.

  “Yes. I saw it with my own eyes.”

  Silence followed.

  Then an elder struck the ground with his staff.

  “With such evidence, it is impossible for you to escape punishment.”

  Another elder sneered.

  “This greedy brat hasn’t even reached the fifth stage yet and already wants to practice martial techniques!”

  A third elder added mockingly,

  “And he’s blind on top of that. He can’t even read it. What stupidity. This boy has truly broadened my understanding of the world. I didn’t know despair could reach such a level.”

  Laughter echoed softly through the hall.

  Even the maid did not bother hiding her mocking smile.

  Ling Fan was not given a chance to speak.

  And he did not try.

  The elders quickly agreed on his guilt—as if the verdict had been written before he even entered the hall.

  Finally, the Second Elder spoke.

  “The crime of stealing secret techniques is a grave taboo. Under normal circumstances, the punishment would be death… or crippling.”

  He paused.

  “But since you are one of the clan’s young masters… and in consideration of the mercy of the Council…”

  Ling Fan’s expression did not move.

  Execution?

  Impossible.

  No matter how much they hated him, they would not stain their hands with the blood of someone who had lived among them for thirteen years.

  The most they would do…

  was strip him of his title.

  The elder continued.

  “Ling Fan is hereby stripped of his position as Young Master… and reduced to a servant of the clan.”

  Whispers spread through the hall.

  Ling Fan’s face stiffened slightly.

  Reduced to a servant…

  That meant his suffering would multiply.

  Even the servants would now dare to bully him openly.

  But what hurt him most was not that.

  It was Li Chan.

  When his status had been high, she had been envied by the other women.

  Now…

  their vengeance would come without restraint.

  The elder’s voice cut through his thoughts again.

  “In addition, he will be punished with eight months in the Dark Wind Mountain Range.”

  “His mission: retrieve two Crimson Summit Flowers… and one pound of Blackwood from the Bright Moon Gorge.”

  For the first time, the Second Elder saw a clear change in the boy’s icy expression.

  Some elders felt satisfied.

  No matter how they had humiliated him before, his face had always remained like a cold corpse.

  But now…

  it had changed.

  The Dark Wind Mountain Range stretched across the southern region of the nation.

  Vast.

  Mysterious.

  Its depths were completely unknown.

  Ferocious beasts were the least of its dangers.

  Lions and tigers there possessed the strength of the Fourth Body Tempering Stage.

  Low-grade demonic beasts reached the peak of the Fifth Stage.

  Even a beginner in the Fifth Stage might not survive there.

  And beyond the beasts…

  there were bandits.

  Criminals.

  And wandering cultivators.

  There was no law in those mountains.

  Without witnesses, the strong could do whatever they pleased.

  Originally, sending anyone below the Seventh Stage there was considered a hidden death sentence.

  For a blind man stuck in the Fourth Stage…

  the meaning was obvious.

  An elegant death.

  Ling Fan’s face had already turned pale.

  His heartbeat pounded violently against his ribs.

  He wanted to speak.

  To argue.

  To beg them to change the punishment to hard labor within the clan.

  But he remained silent.

  He once believed there was a line between them that would never be crossed.

  Because they were family.

  Now he understood.

  That line had never existed.

  His mistake had been not defending himself earlier.

  Now, even a single word could be interpreted as defiance.

  And the punishment would only grow worse.

  Ling Fan stood there alone.

  Small.

  Surrounded by the wide half-circle of elders and spectators.

  Even some servants who had been laughing earlier fell silent and quietly left.

  He walked out of the hall under cold gazes.

  When he reached the courtyard, he paused.

  He raised his face toward the sky he could not see.

  The darkness inside him was calmer than the darkness in his eyes.

  His mind was in chaos.

  Time felt heavy.

  Slow.

  He closed his eyes.

  Memories slowly began to return.

  Because originally…

  He was never truly a member of the Bai Clan.

  He did not carry their blood.

  Thirteen years ago…

  The story had been completely different.