Chapter One: The Path of the Sword Cultivator Begins

“Our family devoted everything to the empire, yet this is the fate that awaited us.”

White Jingyan, who had been lying on the bed, suddenly sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow onto the blanket.

“Is this a dream?” he murmured in a low, grave voice.

He pressed his hand to his neck, faintly feeling a sharp pain.

“No! This isn’t a dream!”

Fragments of memory flashed before his eyes, rushing at him in a torrent—scenes like shards of a shattered past.

Once, White Jingyan was the son of the Supreme Commander of the Howling Forest Army of the Grand Ancestral Empire in the Upper Realm, a family whose glorious military exploits had carved out a vast dominion for the empire.

But the Grand Ancestor Emperor was a man of deep suspicion. When White Jingyan’s father refused to relinquish his military command, the emperor officially disbanded the Howling Forest Army. Secretly, however, he slaughtered every soul connected to it. The White family, once hailed as heroes, was to be utterly exterminated.

In truth, on the day in court, White Jingyan’s father had already surrendered his command. But the emperor’s paranoia was boundless—he feared the renown and loyalty White Jingyan and his father had won might one day rise against him. So, he decreed that the entire White household be put to death.

On the day of execution, White Jingyan, his face twisted in unwillingness and rage, was led to the Executioner’s Terrace, to die by a thunderous blade.

Just as the lightning was about to fall, White Jingyan roared in defiance.

When he opened his eyes again, the world before him was utterly changed.

White Jingyan gazed around, dazed. He picked up a book from the table and discovered he had been reborn ten thousand years into the future.

The nine kingdoms of the Upper Realm had long since been unified by the Grand Ancestral Empire. After a millennium of conquest, the empire’s name was changed to the Central First Empire of the Prime Beginning.

Setting the book aside, White Jingyan’s eyes grew distant. He had followed his father to war and bloodshed, which had steeled him, yet at the time of his execution, he was barely in his early twenties.

He examined his body, marred by scars—some wounds so deep that bone had once shown through. New flesh had grown, but the sight was still ghastly.

From these memories, he learned that the body’s previous owner had been beaten and tormented for days by an inner disciple from a third-rate sect, who sought to seize his childhood sweetheart by force. Refusing to submit, the young man suffered grievous injuries and died of them only yesterday. After White Jingyan’s execution, his soul had entered this battered body, reviving what should have been a corpse.

“This is the White Residence—don’t you dare!”

“Pretty girl, do you still hope your useless ‘brother’ will save you?”

“After the punishment we gave him, he’s lucky to be alive, let alone whole!”

Hearing the commotion outside, White Jingyan dressed. The body was too weak to walk unaided; he needed a cane.

He pushed open the door and saw a young man in azure robes and feathered attire standing beneath a locust tree—clearly of distinguished status. The youth looked at White Jingyan with disdain, while the girl beside him trembled like a frightened sparrow.

She hurried over to support White Jingyan, saying, “Brother Jingyan, why are you out of bed?”

White Jingyan shook his head gently.

The girl’s name was Nanmen Chuyao. According to his memories, she had been taken in by the White family’s patriarch as a child.

White Jingyan turned his gaze to the sword-carrying youth.

“What business brings you to my home today?” he asked.

“Must I explain myself to a cripple like you?” The youth’s contempt was palpable as he spoke.

“Beauty, come with me and I’ll guarantee you a life of wealth and status,” he said, addressing the girl. Then he turned back to White Jingyan, “As for you, I’d advise you to stay out of this—unless you want a fate worse than death!”

White Jingyan gave a soft laugh, suppressing a cough. Several guards, clad in chainmail and built like tigers, approached at his signal, sharp-eyed as hawks.

“This is the White Residence—my courtyard, no less. I doubt you came in through the main gate. If you dare misbehave, I won’t hesitate to throw you out myself.”

Seeing the show of force, the sword-bearing youth lost some of his arrogance and barked, “I am an inner disciple of Starfeather Gate! If anything happens to me, you’ll all pay with your lives!”

White Jingyan shook his head, amused. He had thought himself ill-tempered, yet here was someone even more rash.

“I am now a level-seven martial apprentice! If you dare touch me, my master will never forgive you!”

White Jingyan had heard enough. With a wave of his hand, the guards understood and promptly tossed the youth out.

White Jingyan snorted. Is that all? An inner disciple, yet so unimpressive.

Still, he would not underestimate Starfeather Gate. Rumor had it the sect excelled at aerial combat, their techniques focused on wide-area attacks.

“A third-rate sect from the Lower Realm… intriguing.”

“For now, I need to focus on healing this body.”

Even walking a short distance required support.

A guard approached, reporting, “Young Master, after we threw that fellow out, he shouted at the gate that he’ll return in a few days, and that we’d better be ready.”

White Jingyan merely smiled.

If someone of that caliber could become an inner disciple, the elders of Starfeather Gate could hardly be as powerful as legend claimed.

“Let them come,” White Jingyan said. “We’ll meet whatever comes our way.”

With that, Nanmen Chuyao helped him back inside.

Night had fallen. White Jingyan sat by the window, lost in thought.

“This body is too frail, still riddled with hidden wounds. Martial or arcane cultivation would be ill-suited for it. Should I pursue the way of the sword?” he mused.

He recalled several methods for sword cultivation—some that required no dantian, or even involved transforming into a sword itself.

In his previous life, he had been a spear cultivator, but that path required a solid martial foundation.

“Since fate has given me new life in this body, I must grow stronger—no matter what.”

His eyes shone with newfound resolve.

The wooden door creaked open.

“Brother Jingyan,” Nanmen Chuyao entered, carrying a bowl of medicine. “The physician said this will help you recover—please drink it while it’s hot.”

Seeing the gentle smile on her face, White Jingyan asked, “What is it? Has something interesting happened?”

“It’s nothing,” she said, “just that you seem different from usual today.”

“Do I?” he replied.

She nodded.

White Jingyan smiled and drank the medicine in one gulp.

“It’s late. You should rest as well.”

She agreed softly, took the empty bowl, and closed the door quietly behind her.

White Jingyan gazed out at the starry sky.

“If I could be reborn, perhaps Father has returned somewhere, too. Perhaps other members of our clan as well…”

The thought only strengthened his resolve to become powerful.

“Then let me begin anew upon the sword’s path!”