As we moved out of sight, the inside of the cave revealed a vast, empty floor made of red and brown stone. In the distance stood a structure, and a straight road led directly to it. Massive decorative pillars lined both sides of the path, giving it an ancient, solemn feel. The road continued onward, guiding us straight to a palace.
It was a massive structure, and above its entrance were the words "Love Supreme." However, the word "Love" had been split down the middle, as if someone had struck it with a sword in a moment of rage. Strangely, though damaged, the broken part had not fallen.
Inside the palace, in the center of the main hall, stood a large wooden coffin. The words "Love Supreme" were carved along its side, but just like at the entrance, the word "Love" had been split in two, clearly and deliberately. Aside from that, there were no other marks or symbols anywhere on the coffin. Its lid was open, and from its condition, it was evident that whatever had once been stored inside—likely a treasure—had already been taken.
Then, turning in the opposite direction of the wooden coffin, we saw at least half a kilometer of empty space stretching out ahead. At the far end, just before the wall, stood a large throne with the image of a sword engraved upon it. As we approached, we discovered a hidden passage beneath the throne, accessed through a secret mechanism beneath the tomb seat. It led down into a chamber below.
The chamber wasn't particularly large, but it was well-lit. At its center was a pond filled with a thick, blue liquid. Even from a distance, the pond radiated a mysterious pressure—as if merely looking at it could tear you apart. Surrounding the pond was a complex formation, carefully constructed to contain the essence within and prevent its power from shattering outward and dissipating into the world.
Near the edge, just a couple of meters from the tomb, lay a young man. His body was drenched in blood—his clothes soaked through, some of it his own, some clearly not. He was unconscious, his breathing faint in the quiet chamber.
After a long silence, a low groan broke the stillness.
"Ahh…" he moaned weakly. "Where… am I?" he murmured, barely audible. With effort, he pushed himself backward, using his bloodied hands against the stone floor to sit up. The movement drew another pained cry from his lips. He panted heavily, trembling.
Only then did we realize who he was.
This man… was none other than Ye Chen—the so-called "Supreme Trash" of the cultivation world. The precious son of the Grand Elder of the Thousand Peak Pavilion. A figure thought to be long dead after the world-shaking tomb raid.
His long hair was matted and scattered across his face, sticking to his skin in dried streaks of blood. Through clenched teeth, he whispered hoarsely, "…That bitch… that bitch… She promised me…"
His voice cracked as the memory returned.
"She promised that if I lured my sect members to attack the tomb of the God Transformation Realm expert—the same expert who was once the anchor of our sect—then I would be rewarded. She said… I'd get a treasure that could change my worthless talent…"
"And she was someone sent by the Anchor from the Upper Realm," he said through gritted teeth. "She even had his token. She claimed she only needed one treasure from this tomb… and all I had to do was lure as many cultivators here as possible."
His face twisted in anger and self-loathing. "At first, I didn't think too much about it. But when she insisted I bring a large group, I started to feel uneasy. So I asked my father to assign a Deity Realm elder to protect us…"
He paused, voice trembling.
"Ahh… that bitch. She had planned everything from the start. All she wanted was to sacrifice them—the people I brought. She used their deaths… their emotions… to force the tomb open. Even the Deity Realm elder couldn't stop it. In the end, he was so furious… he wanted to kill me."
Flashback
"Ahh… you little trash… this is all your fault! So many of our sect members are dead! If I'm going to die, I'm taking you with me!"
The old man, pinned down by the crushing force of the formation near the cave gate, screamed at Ye Chen, his voice filled with hatred.
That was when Ye Chen turned and ran—for his life.
Flashback end
His fists clenched, his whole body shaking. "If I hadn't stumbled into that formation at the last moment… I would've died too. Either by that old dog's attack… or by the formation itself."
A face appeared in his mind—stunning and veiled, one he had seen only twice in his life. The image pierced his chest like a blade, deepening the sorrow in his eyes.
Tears welled up, trailing slowly down his blood-smeared cheeks.
"I couldn't even change my talent… After all that… I'm still the same trash. How could I ever be worthy of the Celestial Fairy?"
His voice broke, body trembling with despair.
"I can't do anything… I'm useless. Ahh… I want to die. I want to die… Without her, I'm nothing. There's no way I can ever reach her with this worthless cultivation…"
Then, suddenly, he heard a voice.
"So, you need a good cultivation talent, huh?"
A cold, emotionless voice echoed from behind him.
Ye Chen froze. The moment he heard the voice, fear surged through his entire being—so intense it nearly knocked his soul out of his body. His breath caught, but after a few seconds, he forced himself to calm down. He had heard the words clearly.
A good cultivation talent…
That was all he had ever wanted. Even if it meant selling his soul, he wouldn't hesitate.
Slowly, using his bloodied hands for support, he turned around—and what he saw left him completely stunned.
A pond of blue, glowing liquid shimmered behind him, its surface unnaturally still. Standing in the center of it was a man, radiating a majestic, overwhelming aura. It felt as if his very presence could tear the heavens apart. The sheer pressure made Ye Chen instinctively lower his head.
"Y-Yeah," Ye Chen stammered, his voice trembling. "I… I can do anything for it."
The man chuckled—low at first, then louder, until it turned into a cold, triumphant laugh. He looked toward the direction of the Love Supreme Tomb.
"Bitch…" he muttered darkly. "You think you've won? If I can't kill you, then your inheritor will die at the hands of mine."
His laughter echoed through the chamber—sharp, chilling, and filled with hatred and cruel satisfaction.