Chapter 1: Rebirth

Devil Cultivators in the Savage Wilds were as numerous as fish crossing a river. Each one possessed extraordinary power, yet all were hideous to look at—ashen-faced and earth-skinned, forever despised by the righteous.

That is, until Jade Reflection Lord Yi Xuefeng fell into Devilhood. After that, no one dared to mock a Devil Cultivator’s looks again.

Yi Xuefeng was not the most powerful among the many Devil Cultivators, nor did he command the greatest prestige or connections, but he was the first in the Savage Wilds’ history to win his exalted position purely on the strength of his beauty.

Good things never lasted, though. Barely a hundred years later, the righteous banded together against him, and Yi Xuefeng perished in the Devil-Slaying Array at the edge of the Flame Sea.

The devils of the Savage Wilds mourned bitterly.

From then on, whenever conflict arose with the righteous, they could no longer blithely fire back at any jab about their appearance with, “Our gorgeous Sovereign’s beauty leaves your righteous lot in the dust by eight hundred streets!”

So infuriating.

A wild beast’s roar exploded beside his ear.

Yi Xuefeng shuddered all over and forced his eyes open with a frown.

In his dazed state, he assumed it was his Spirit Beast, kept in his hall, squabbling over food. But the moment his vision sharpened, he found himself staring directly into an eerie blue beast’s pupil larger than a human head.

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

Only belatedly did the thick stench of blood reach his nose. He turned his head—and saw the vicious beast’s jagged teeth sunk deep into his shoulder. One flex of that jaw, and half his arm would be torn away.

There was no time to sort out what was happening. Yi Xuefeng raised his one unharmed hand, pressed it against the beast’s brow, and just before its teeth could close, blasted out a burst of Spiritual Power.

With an earth-shattering boom, the beast was flung backward, slamming violently into a boulder some distance away.

Dust billowed everywhere.

Yi Xuefeng struggled to his feet, clutching his bleeding arm, completely unable to make sense of the situation.

He looked down at his intact hand. The palm bore a severed lifeline.

This is not my hand.

He probed his own meridians. A superior Daoist Cultivator’s body.

Not mine either.

Yi Xuefeng went a little blank.

His last hazy memory was of dying in the Devil-Slaying Array, then sinking into endless darkness, the surroundings like a mire dragging him down inch by inch.

And now he had woken from what felt like a nap to find not only his Spirit Body intact, but housed in a Daoist Cultivator’s shell to boot.

Lush, towering trees surrounded him on all sides. Thin light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering dappled spots across the ground.

Yi Xuefeng’s head pounded so viciously that he half wished he could just pass out.

He had no idea where he was, but any place that could produce such a ferocious beast was no place to linger.

A bloodstained dagger lay on the ground. Gritting his teeth against the headache, Yi Xuefeng bent down to pick it up. Just as he was about to look for a way out, a rustle came from behind him.

The dust slowly settled, and the beast let out a furious roar, its beastly pupils glinting with cold, vicious light as it lunged at him, fiercer than before.

If that earlier palm strike had landed in full, the beast would already have dissolved into a bloody mist. Unfortunately, this body’s cultivation was not particularly high—even exerting all its strength had only been enough to knock the creature back.

So annoying, Yi Xuefeng thought. Can’t a man get a moment’s peace?

He had only just woken up, his nerves already frayed, and now he’d run into a beast with no eyes that had nearly bitten his new shell in half. His patience wore thin at once.

Yi Xuefeng twirled the dagger in a lazy flourish, shot the beast a sideways glance through his phoenix eyes, and ran his tongue slowly over his lips.

“Perfect. I was getting a little hungry.”

The vicious beast: “…”

The beast’s charging form froze mid-lunge. It stared at Yi Xuefeng in disbelief, as though looking at a monster even more terrifying than itself.

A moment later, a young man came sprinting, sweat streaming down his face as he shouted over his shoulder, “Sect Master! The Little Immortal Lord is just ahead—that vicious beast is incredibly powerful, we’re no match for it at all…”

Shortly after, a tall woman strode swiftly into view, several green-robed disciples trailing behind her.

Brows knitting, she caught the thick scent of blood hanging in the air, then said coldly, “The Little Immortal Lord’s status is exalted. How could you have brought him to a place like this?”

The young man was nearly in tears. “I would never dare urge the Little Immortal Lord to come here! He said he wanted to enter the Forbidden Ground to find a Spirit Beast and tame it for his own use. I-I…”

Mid-sentence, the woman seemed to sense something. She shoved the young man aside and hurried toward a spot not far away.

Everyone hurried after her.

The closer they got, the thicker the scent of blood became. Song Jingsheng’s figure flitted across the grass like a startled swan, gliding over the ground like a falling leaf.

Her pale, slender fingers pushed the grass aside—and when she saw the scene before her, her eyes trembled.

The young man who had led the way rushed up behind her. The smell of blood hit him and he broke down crying at once, stumbling forward as he cried, “Little Immortal Lord! Li—”

The words died in his throat.

Song Jingsheng was silent for a long while before she managed, “This is the vicious beast you said was… incredibly powerful?”

Beneath a towering tree, an enormous ferocious beast lay sprawled on the ground, blood streaming steadily from its neck and staining the earth crimson. It had long since gone silent.

At the beast’s throat stood a young man, one foot planted on its head, bending slightly as he drew the dagger out in one clean motion. A spray of blood followed—and a few drops splashed onto his pale cheek.

The young man was breathtakingly beautiful. A cinnabar-colored curling mark sat at the center of his brow, his hair bound up in a hasty knot, a single strand falling across his face. He blew it away without a care, and it drifted to one side.

The onlookers exchanged glances, speechless.

Having neatly slit the beast’s throat, Yi Xuefeng stood and wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand—only then noticing the group of people standing some distance away.

At the sight of them, Yi Xuefeng imperceptibly relaxed.

He took a few steps toward Song Jingsheng—then reconsidered, ran back, and delivered two vicious kicks to the beast’s lifeless, still-bared teeth. Consider it payback for his arm.

Everyone: “…”

Yi Xuefeng pocketed the dagger and walked toward the crowd.

“Esteemed Daoist friends,” he said, greeting them casually, “could I trouble you to show me the way—”

Before he could finish, the young man beside him suddenly flung himself forward with a wail, sobbing, “Little Immortal Lord! Thank goodness you’re safe and sound! Waaah, the Immortal Lords in the Heavenly Realm must have blessed you!”

Only after finishing did he seem to remember something. He clapped a hand over his mouth at once, looking up at Yi Xuefeng with eyes full of panic, like someone who had been beaten into timidity.

Yi Xuefeng’s ears rang from the wailing and he barely suppressed a flinch. Still, these people clearly knew the original owner of this body, which made things far easier.

Since they were acquainted, he obligingly gestured at the beast behind him and asked, “Want to share?”

Everyone: “…”

Song Jingsheng managed with great difficulty, “Eat… the vicious beast?”

Yi Xuefeng blinked, about to reply, when that intermittent dizziness swept over him again. Before he could make a sound, his head swam and he pitched face-first to the ground.

Very quickly, he went still.

Everyone: “…”

Yi Xuefeng woke next to the sound of rain drumming outside the window.

Beyond the carved lattice window, the rain fell like pearls clattering onto a jade plate.

Yi Xuefeng suddenly felt a pang of unfamiliarity.

Ever since he had fallen into Devilhood, he had lived at the edge of the Flame Sea in the Savage Wilds, where the heat was perpetual and broken rocks and withered trees stretched for hundreds of miles in every direction. Not a single drop of rain had fallen there in a thousand years.

He could no longer remember how long it had been since he’d last seen rain.

Everything around him was quiet. On a small side table sat an exquisite little incense burner, wisps of white smoke curling upward, while on the window lattice rested a pot of flowers swaying in the breeze.

Something about the mingled scents seemed off—the two fragrances wove together, and Yi Xuefeng frowned, unable to tell whether it was the incense or the flowers that was the problem.

Just then, the door was knocked on softly, twice.

“Little Immortal Lord, are you awake?”

Yi Xuefeng hooked the outer robe nearby and draped it over his shoulders. The shoulder the beast had bitten had been dressed with Spirit Medicine, but even the slightest movement sent a stabbing pain through it.

“I’m awake.”

He didn’t really understand what “Little Immortal Lord” was supposed to mean as a title, but judging from everyone’s earlier expressions, he could roughly guess that the original owner had been either rich or noble—likely quite an important figure.

The door was gently pushed open, and the young man entered carefully, carrying a bowl of Spirit Medicine.

“Little Immortal Lord, the medicine has been brewed.”

Yi Xuefeng nodded, accepted the bowl without much resistance, and glanced down.

The medicine was as clear as water, rippling faintly when swirled—clearly a rare and precious healing Spirit Medicine.

His shoulder ached in waves, but Yi Xuefeng didn’t force himself. Pressing his lips together, he drank the medicine down.

The moment it entered his body, the Spirit Medicine dissolved into warm currents of Spiritual Power that flowed through his meridians like a gentle spring rain. Within moments, the pain in his shoulder had vanished entirely.

Yi Xuefeng clicked his tongue in admiration, handed back the bowl, and asked earnestly, “Got any more?”

The young man: “…”

The young man said haltingly, “This medicine took hundreds of Spirit Flowers and herbs and a whole night to brew. If the Little Immortal Lord wishes to drink more, I’m afraid it will be ready by tomorrow.”

What a spendthrift, Yi Xuefeng thought. So extravagantly wasteful.

He looked around the room. It was filled with all sorts of odd Spirit Artifacts, and a Longevity Jade hung at the edge of the bed. The window stood wide open, cool breezes drifting through.

The young man asked carefully, “Little Immortal Lord, are you looking for something?”

“Oh,” said Yi Xuefeng, retracting his gaze with practiced ease. “I was looking for the vicious beast I hunted down. Where did it go? Didn’t you bring it back?”

The young man jumped in fright. The beast from the Forbidden Ground had been enormous—what normal person would want to go near it, let alone a blood-soaked corpse with its eyes still open in death?

“No… no,” the young man whispered. “Sect Master Song told us not to bother. That vicious beast hadn’t yet formed an Inner Core, so dragging it back would have been useless.”

Yi Xuefeng blinked. “But it can be eaten.”

The young man: “…”

Clutching the bowl with a tremble, the young man stammered, “Little Immortal Lord… p-perhaps I should have someone brew you another bowl of medicine right away…”

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

The young man’s face was full of horrified disbelief, as though thinking, Shocking! The Little Immortal Lord’s mind has been addled by the vicious beast!—as if afraid Yi Xuefeng might turn around and take a bite out of him.

Have the Three Realms stopped eating vicious beast meat these days? Yi Xuefeng wondered. Then exactly how long was I asleep?

Looking at the young man’s trembling form, he pondered for a long while before pinching a hand seal within his sleeve and flicking his fingers.

The moment the Spiritual Power touched him, the young man shuddered, his eyes going vacant as he stared blankly into the air.

“Answer whatever I ask,” Yi Xuefeng said.

The young man answered woodenly, “Yes.”

“What is your name?”

“Huaichen.”

“What is my name?”

“Lin Fuyu.”

“What does ‘Little Immortal Lord’ mean?”

“… “

Question by question, Yi Xuefeng gradually pieced together the original owner’s circumstances.

Young Master of the Cold Huai River—Lin Fuyu, known to all as the “Little Immortal Lord.”

The title had nothing to do with his cultivation or talent. It existed purely because of his extraordinary birth: his own father had attained the Dao and Ascended.

Lord Linfan of the Cold Huai River had reached the pinnacle of cultivation before the age of two hundred. After shattering the void and ascending, he entrusted his only blood kin, Lin Fuyu, to the care of the Cold Huai River’s three Sect Masters, then drifted out of this world.

Six-year-old Lin Fuyu became the object of universal attention. Merely mentioning him would draw the comment: “Ah, that’s Lord Linfan’s son—the future Little Immortal Lord.”

And so, through sheer repetition, everyone simply came to call him that.

The trouble was, Lin Fuyu himself thoroughly detested being compared to Lord Linfan. No matter what he did, it seemed he could never escape the shadow of the Immortal Lord Linfan.

A young person’s heart is naturally sensitive. Being weighed and measured against his father day after day inevitably bred rebellion. He set himself against everyone around him, and his temperament grew more and more disagreeable.

Sneaking into the Forbidden Ground to capture some Spirit Beast was, in all likelihood, another deliberate act of spite.

Who could have guessed that in the midst of making trouble, he would lose his own life instead?

Lin Fuyu had truly taken a winning hand and played it into ruin.

The more Yi Xuefeng heard, the more he sighed, and the more he understood why Huaichen had panicked so badly earlier at the mention of “Immortal Lord.”

After a moment, Yi Xuefeng withdrew the Spiritual Power and gave a light flick of his fingers. Huaichen woke at once.

The young man gazed at him in some confusion. “Little Immortal Lord?”

Yi Xuefeng stretched lazily. “Nothing’s wrong. You may go.”

Huaichen, still muddled, was about to bow and take his leave—but just as he turned, he seemed to remember something. Gritting his teeth and hesitating for a long while, he turned back and said, voice near tears, “Little Immortal Lord, Sect Master Song said that if your wound has healed, you should go to…”

The rest came out quieter than a mosquito’s whine.

Yi Xuefeng’s head throbbed at the buzzing. Am I really that terrifying? he thought. This kid’s about to be frightened to tears. Even after I fell into Devilhood and became the Devil Cultivator Sovereign, I was a gentle, gracious Sovereign—I never once scared anyone this badly.

Yi Xuefeng pulled on his robe and said, “Go where? Louder.”

At the sound of his voice, the young man—who had evidently been scolded senseless by the original owner—finally broke down and burst into loud sobs.

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

Huaichen wept and hiccupped, “They want… want you to go to the front hall, to discuss the m-m-m-matter of Immortal Lord Linfan’s stolen Spirit Artifact.”

Yi Xuefeng: “…”

This Lin Fuyu… he doesn’t eat people, right?

Being scared to this degree is really going too far…