Chapter One: At the End of the Nightmare, a Girl Appears

In the pitch-black world, where one could not see even a hand before their eyes, it felt somewhat like watching a slightly suspenseful art film in a midnight cinema.

“Cut the skin~ Cut the skin~ Cut the skin~”

A delicate young boy was desperately running through this endless darkness. Behind him trailed a tiller fitted with countless blades, resembling a modified hand-pulled tractor from the 1970s or 80s. The sharp blades created a series of ghostly illusions.

Back then, such force could easily shatter the cracked earth of dry fields—it was a simple task. One could only imagine the dire consequences if the boy were caught.

The tiller was surrounded by a faint glow, appearing almost sacred. Countless droplets of blood shone red as they splattered from the blades, sending chills down the spine.

The boy was dodging the fearsome blades, running aimlessly while occasionally glancing back at the tiller, repeating this familiar scene endlessly but never finding a way to break free.

This realm held nothing but darkness—no other paths, no light. The only thing he could see was an endless void.

“Why are you still chasing me? Whom have I offended?”

Ye Feifan felt helpless; fear swelled within his heart. The very word “still” spoke volumes—this was clearly not the first time.

The tiller paid no heed to his pleas, relentlessly crushing forward. No one operated it—it was an unmanned machine.

Believe it or not, Ye Feifan was actually dreaming at this moment.

He had been having this same dream for ten years, every day repeating the same nightmare. He knew exactly what would happen next, and this familiarity only deepened his dread.

“Ah—”

The expected outcome unfolded precisely: Ye Feifan tripped under a mysterious force, was drawn into the tiller, and mercilessly shredded, his consciousness growing hazy.

His heart trembled; after the pain came darkness. Then the blackness faded, and he found himself once again in that strange, familiar dreamscape.

“You…” Ye Feifan spoke with difficulty before collapsing, his vision blurring.

A graceful figure stood with her back to him, shrouded in an indistinct allure, like a flower seen through mist. Though vague, her presence unsettled him, as if he owed her some unspoken debt.

A soft sigh, still as melodious as before. But sadly, things had changed; he still could not see the girl’s face.

Suddenly awakening, Ye Feifan sat up in bed, gasping for breath.

“What exactly is happening? Why is she still here?”

Ye Feifan was on the brink of madness, tears brimming in his eyes. Ten years of recurring dreams, the same formula, the same feelings—and yet he could never escape their torment.

They say that those who traverse worlds often receive golden blessings: overwhelming power, the aura of kings, templates of invincible heroes, dazzling abilities, and devoted admirers. Enemies lose their cunning, mighty figures bow in submission. But none of this befell Ye Feifan.

“Is heaven against me?” he cried inwardly, fear not just of death, but of the endless cycle and the unknown darkness within the dream.

After ten years of dying in dreams, he had long since ceased fearing life or death, but the helplessness gnawed at him relentlessly, causing unbearable pain.

“Why treat me like this? Why?” Ye Feifan buried his head and wept bitterly, feeling his life was a cruel mockery by fate.

In his previous life, he grew up in an orphanage run by a secret organization. After saving a little girl, he was swept away by a truck accident, his soul crossing into another world.

Even now, recalling this, he felt no regret. Saving a young life gave meaning to his death. The child still had a future, while he was left alone, a young man whose youth had been tainted.

Perhaps as a reward for his kindness, he was reborn in another world. Yet this new life was no better—he was still an orphan. His parents were hunted down and killed, and he was abandoned by a figure clad in black on a mass grave outside Tianzi City.

If not for his foster father saving him, he would have died in childhood.

His savior was Xun Tianxing, head of the Xun family—a powerful clan in Tianzi City within the Great Zhou Empire. This city had produced countless prodigies, some even shattering the void to ascend to higher realms, terrifying in their might. Xun Tianxing raised him, and his surname came from a jade pendant carved on his chest.

Xun Tianxing hoped he would become extraordinary, hence the name Feifan, meaning “extraordinary.”

The Great Zhou Empire lay in the southern frontier of the Wild Continent. Ancient records said this land was part of a forbidden zone shattered during the mythic era. Few believed this, but Ye Feifan held firm faith.

If crossing worlds was real, then many legends must be true. Humanity’s arrogance was merely a refusal to accept this fact.

Shaken from his nightmare, Ye Feifan no longer wished to sleep. After calming himself, he sat cross-legged and began cultivation.

At sixteen, Ye Feifan had been plagued by nightmares since six. He told no one, naively believing they were his secret gift. But harsh reality showed him that he needed to grow stronger to face everything.

On the Wild Continent, one strengthens by absorbing spiritual energy from heaven and earth. Early cultivation was divided into nine Tribulation stages. Each stage required one to endure three internal calamities—thunder, fire, and wind—and an external ninth Tribulation thunderstorm. Surviving brought freedom; failing meant instant death and obliteration.

These calamities were ancient rules passed down from the mythic age. Many aspiring to defy fate died during their first Tribulation stage—survival odds even lower than winning a fifty-million jackpot.

Those with exceptional talent could reach the first Tribulation stage using a Tribulation Breaking Pill. Each subsequent level brought new calamities, making advancement perilous beyond words.

Ye Feifan was a first Tribulation stage cultivator, steadfast as ever. For ten years he cultivated, yet the spiritual energy vanished without reason. The calamities he should have faced when first reaching this stage were inexplicably absorbed by his body. He never took a Tribulation Breaking Pill, only pretending to, to avoid others coveting him.

He cultivated until dawn, but his strength had not increased one bit. The cause remained a mystery—an eerie abnormality.

Leaving his room, Ye Feifan went to his usual training grounds and resumed his daily physical exercises. More people gradually gathered around.

“There he is again, that useless fool. I don’t know what the clan leader was thinking.”

“Living off others all these years, yet no progress—such a coward.”

“I can’t understand why the young lady spends all her time with someone like him.”

“The toad dreaming of swan’s flesh. Once the Ling Tian Sect accepts disciples and takes the young lady away, we’ll see what becomes of him.”

“I’ll make sure to teach him a lesson.”

“The clan leader raised him, but does he think he’s his own son?”

The murmurs weren’t loud but each word struck Ye Feifan’s heart. He felt anger but remained composed. These old, worn-out criticisms had been repeated for years; it was a miracle he hadn’t lost his mind.

The familiar scenes made Ye Feifan, holding a heavy stone lock in each hand, start doubting himself.

At first, he wondered if some elder presence watched over him. Later, he realized he was overthinking; he had no talisman or ring on him.

“Good morning, Brother Feifan!” A familiar female voice pulled him back to reality, causing his hands to tremble and almost drop the stone lock.

“Good… morning, Yicao.”

Even before she approached, a scent of lavender fragrance drifted toward him, elegant and subtle. He quite liked it.

Before him stood a long-haired girl in a purple dress—Xun Tianxing’s daughter, Xun Yicao, and Ye Feifan’s childhood playmate. Yet Ye Feifan bore her no goodwill; their interactions had been a façade, unnoticed by others.

His disdain for Xun Yicao stemmed from his own helplessness, unfairly blaming her for all his misfortunes. After all, no one liked being the scapegoat who gained nothing. The Xun family often bullied him just because he associated with their young lady.

For this unjust reason, he had suffered bullying for over a decade. Though resentment brewed within, he refrained from conflict out of respect for Xun Tianxing, who had raised him. A rift would have been embarrassing for Xun Tianxing.

Once he repaid this debt, he would leave this place. The world was vast, and he would never betray anyone for personal gain.

[PS: Prosperity, democracy, civility, harmony; freedom, equality, justice, rule of law; patriotism, dedication, integrity, friendliness.]