"Su Ruoxue, you're so ruthless. It's fine if we do not marry, but why did you have to kill me and harm my father?"
Qi Zheng suddenly let out a roar, his face twisted in ferocity, as he leapt up from his rosewood-casted bed. A powerful gust of wind swept over, knocking over the bowl of medicine on the bedside table. As it smashes on the ground, a clear cracking sound resonates. This sound jolted Qi Zheng from his dreaming state.
"A dream?"
Qi Zheng was taken aback, a deep hatred flashing through his dark eyes. How could it be just a dream? Su Ruoxue coldly thrust the divine weapon, Traces of Snow, into his chest. The bone-chilling cold and the indelible pain, how could it all just be a mere dream?
Qi Zheng, known as one of the Five Emperors of the Desolate God World, the sole son of the Emperor Qi Tian, was hailed as the prodigy among the younger generation and the pride of heaven. Despite his young age, he had awakened to seven divine blessings, reaching the state of Nine Grade Desolate Venerable. Unexpectedly, such a genius was stabbed to death at the foot of Desolate God Mountain by his bride-to-be without any warning. Even Emperor Qi Tian fell victim to the poison of the underworld, lost all his power, disappearing without a trace!
Upon awakening beneath the Desolate God Mountain, he is surprised to find himself 300 years in the future. The once familiar world had changed, with brewing storms and undercurrents. What's more ironic, is that Su Ruoxue, who was only a simple disciple of Qingcheng Sect, became its leader and the sect itself now stands as a top force of the Desolate God World.
Three centuries later, things have dramatically changed in the Desolate God World-- no longer the five emperors but instead, a structure of One Sect, Three Alliances, Five Families! And that sect refers to Qingcheng Sect.
"Ha, ha. Good. Very good indeed! Qingcheng Sect? Su Ruoxue? Even such mediocre talent that's nothing but the laughing stock of the world, can become the most dazzling existence in this world. What would the Five Emperors think if they knew from the underground spring?"
Qi Zheng laughed, his laugh laced with a trace of hidden sorrow and an intense killing intent. He didn't deny his deep affection for Su Ruoxue in the past, yet he was repaid with betrayal. The moment the Traces of Snow, which he gifted her, pierced his heart, his love for this woman died. He had no more feelings, no righteousness, only hatred!
"Young Master, why are you up? Your sickness has a monthly flare-up. This time, you sold the jade bracelet left by the late Madam to buy some Desolate God coins for your medicine. And now it's all overturned?"
At that moment, a young lady dressed in white walked in, her heart aching and full of blame as she picked up the shattered porcelain bowl from the floor, looking haplessly at the spilled medicine scattered all over the place.
Qi Zheng cast a casual glance at the girl in white, saying dismissively, "Oh? What does it matter if it's spilled? What decent elixir could possibly come from a mere War Dynasty, a minor place like the Zhen Nan Residence?"
In this Desolate God World, numerous dynasties existed, but the War Dynasty was nothing more than a minor one of countless others. As for the Zhen Nan Residence, Qi Zheng, who arrived three hundred years in the future, was the ninth son of the Zhen Nan King, one born out of wedlock. Just like the War Dynasty, he was insignificant in the royal residence.
"What? Young Master, you should be aware this bowl of elixir was specifically concocted for you by Qing Feng Zhai, costing a hundred Desolate God coins. However, your monthly income is only fifty Desolate God coins."
The girl in white stared at her master in disbelief. His indifferent demeanor and authentic attitude of one in a high position nearly made her fail to recognize him. Was this the ninth young master of the Zhen Nan Residence, the one with the worst qualifications and frequently sick?
Qi Zheng of course did not explain too much to her. He got up, but a sudden wave of weakness hit him, causing his body to involuntarily lean forward. Luckily, the girl in white had quick reflexes and managed to support him, preventing him from falling over.
Qi Zheng knew this body was weak, but he never expected it to be so frail that he was even unsteady on his feet.
"Young master, you've not yet taken your medication, and you’re not fully recovered. You shouldn't get out of bed just yet. Lie down quickly. I'll go to the Qing Feng Zhai to get another prescription for you,” Xia Yu quickly uttered.
However, Qi Zheng remained silent, his deep eyes, like ink, suddenly fell on the spilled medicine. On his somewhat immature face, a touch of ferocity appeared.
"Did Qing Feng Zhai concoct this medicine? How long have I been taking it?"
Qi Zheng's question was abrupt, causing Xia Yu to be slightly startled, but she honestly answered, "Young Master, you've been drinking it for three years after falling from the Yaofeng Mountain into the ice-cold pool. Every month, your cold poison acts up, and you need to ingest the elixir prepared by Qing Feng Zhai to cure it. Don't you even remember this?”
Qi Zheng remained silent, his gaze flickered, he was quiet for a moment, and then he coldly scoffed, “Cold poison? Huh, ingesting the medicine with added Feng Yin grass every month, no wonder I have cold poison. Qing Feng Zhai, good, it’s really good!”
The Feng Yin grass, a spiritual medicine that grows in extremely cold places, is usually used to cure Yang poison. For female cultivators practicing Yin skills, it's an excellent spiritual medicine to enhance their skills.
However, using it on a mere mortal like Qi Zheng, who is weak and frequently ill, has no effect. It only makes his body weaker. Qi Zheng even speculated that the original owner of this body may have died early from ingesting this medicine, and he just happened to take over this body.
"Eighth Young Master, Ninth Young Master is resting. Please come back later."
Just then, a voice suddenly rang out from outside, the voice of a guard. However, hardly had the guard's voice sounded when it was rudely interrupted by another: "Rest my foot, the guy is already dead. If he wanted to sleep, I guess it would be forever, hahaha."
With this voice, the door to Qi Zheng's room was kicked open by a large figure. Following this, a fierce-faced young man with mocking eyes rudely drew the attention of Qi Zheng and Xiao Yu.
Behind the young man, there were five armored guards carrying blades. Each of them was tall and strong, as they stormed into the room, filling it immediately with a threatening atmosphere.
"Hmm?"
The young man raised his head, his gaze, sharp as an arrow, fell directly onto Qi Zheng who was lying on the bed. On meeting those profound black eyes, the young man visibly hesitated, somewhat incredulous.
