CHAPTER ONE: TRASH OF THE LONG CLAN
694 Words
The Dreamy Lake was the only place in the entire Long Clan that felt like peace.
Nestled between three jade peaks, the water glowed faintly at dawn. Lotus petals floated on the surface, each one holding a trace of spiritual energy. Outer disciples were forbidden to enter. Inner disciples rarely came.
Which was why Long Yang came here every single day.
He was 16 years old.
And he was trash.
Not a single wisp of qi could enter his body. Pills did nothing. Manuals did nothing. The clan healers called his dantian "dead".
In a clan where a 10-year-old could already be at Qi Layer 3, Long Yang was still a mortal.
“Useless son of Long Hai,” the other disciples whispered.
“Waste of food.”
“The Chief position? Hah. With a son like that, Long Hai has no chance.”
Long Yang’s fists clenched at his sides.
His father, Long Hai, was currently one of the 3 contestants fighting for the Clan Chief seat. A proud man at the 2nd Golden Core Layer.
His mother was "dead". No one ever spoke of her.
So Long Yang came here. To dream.
He dreamed of standing tall beside his father.
He dreamed of not being called trash.
And he dreamed of her.
Long Mei.
15 years old. 7th Qi Layer.
The crown jewel of the Long Clan. Disciple of the mighty Snowkill Sect.
Hair like moonlight. Eyes like frost. Sword that cut through 3 Qi Layer 9 disciples at once in the last tournament.
She was also the one who once called him "the stain on the Long name" to his face.
Long Yang sighed and sat on his favorite rock by the lake. “One day,” he whispered. “One day I’ll—”
A splash cut him off.
His eyes went wide.
In the center of the Dreamy Lake, steam rose.
And in the water stood Long Mei. Speak of the devil.....
Her white robes were to the side. Her long hair was down, dripping. Water ran down pale skin in the morning light.
Long Yang’s brain short-circuited.
“I... I didn’t... I’m sorry, I—”
The words died in his throat.
The water stilled.
Long Mei’s eyes snapped open. Frost spread across the lake surface in an instant.
“What are you looking at, p*****t?!”
Her voice was ice. Her killing intent locked onto him.
Long Yang finally moved to run, but it was too late.
“Snowkill Palm!”
A blast of blue-white qi shot from her hand. The air froze.
This was a cultivator’s technique. A 7th Qi Layer attack.
TABOO.
Clan Law Article 1: No cultivator shall raise a hand against a mortal. Punishment: Expulsion and 100 lashes.
But Long Mei didn’t care. To her, Long Yang wasn’t even human. He was trash.
BOOM!
The palm struck Long Yang square in the chest. He was lifted off his feet and slammed into a boulder 15 meters away.
Crack.
Blood sprayed from his mouth. His vision spun.
The last thing he saw was Long Mei wrapping herself in qi and floating out of the lake, face disgusted.
“Guards! The trash of the Long Clan was spying on me! Kill him if he wakes up!”
And then everything went black.
As consciousness faded, Long Yang had only one thought:
So... this is how it ends. The trash dies in a ditch.
But deep in his chest, where his "dead" dantian was...
Something cold and ancient stirred.
As if it had been waiting for him to almost die.
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