The most frustrating thing Tang San had ever experienced was waking up early one morning, preparing to climb the mountain for his usual cultivation… only to see Jiang Chen sneaking down the hill.
At first, he didn't think much of it — until he reached the top.
His nose almost crooked with anger.
The hill wasn't even that tall — barely a hundred meters high — yet everything within thirty meters of the summit was withered. The grass had turned yellow, the trees lost their luster, and even the flowers drooped as if all their vitality had been sucked dry.
That wasn't even the worst part. For weeks afterward, the spiritual energy he could gather from the mountain had been significantly reduced. It took several months for the area to recover.
And all because Jiang Chen just had to be curious.
Jiang Chen clicked his tongue and curled his lips in slight embarrassment. Clearly, Tang San was still holding a grudge over that mountain-top incident.
"Tch. Still bitter, huh?" Jiang Chen sighed inwardly.
He really hadn't done it on purpose.
Back then, he'd only been curious about the spot Tang San kept sneaking off to for his daily secret training. He wanted to try cultivating there himself… but once he did, the strange aura in his body leaked out uncontrollably — and ended up ruining the place.
He did feel a little bad about it. Kind of.
Trying to make amends, Jiang Chen held out one of the fat fish he had caught earlier. "Here. I caught a few fish — take one."
He didn't walk any closer, just casually tossed the fish over.
Swish!
Tang San reacted with lightning reflexes. His right hand shot out and, with precision cultivated through countless hours of martial practice, he grabbed the fish by the straw string. It was nearly ten catties, but he caught it effortlessly.
"Thanks," Tang San said stiffly.
The two boys stood only five meters apart now. Jiang Chen's black, gemstone-like eyes suddenly lit up, glinting with a sharp, predatory gleam. His gaze locked onto Tang San's neck — specifically, the spot where his artery pulsed beneath the skin.
Gulp.
Jiang Chen swallowed hard.
He could hear it clearly — the rush of blood flowing through Tang San's veins, the rhythmic beating of his heart. It was like a melody, so rich, so… enticing.
The look in Jiang Chen's eyes changed subtly, like a wolf staring down prey.
Tang San instantly felt a chill shoot up his spine, a wave of cold racing from his tailbone straight to his crown. His scalp went numb.
"I—I need to go back and make breakfast!" he said, then turned and bolted.
He was more than ten meters away in a blink, carrying the fish, and disappeared down the road back to Holy Soul Village like his life depended on it.
Jiang Chen stood there awkwardly.
"…Damn. Hungry again?" he muttered, licking the corner of his lips where a bit of drool had escaped. He quickly sat cross-legged and began circulating his inner energy to suppress the hunger clawing at him from within.
If Tang Hao saw me looking at his son like that… he'd probably smash me with his hammer.
Back at home, Jiang Chen set one fish aside for himself, then picked up the other and headed toward the village center — to Old Jack's house.
Old Jack was the village elder… and also the one who'd once saved his life.
When Jiang Chen was three, he still lived under Old Jack's roof. But that all changed after he started cultivating that ominous technique — the very one that made him what he was today.
It didn't take long for the village to turn against him.
Even Old Jack wasn't spared. After prolonged exposure to Jiang Chen, he would fall ill time and time again. Eventually, unable to withstand the strange influence any longer, Old Jack gave Jiang Chen a small, abandoned courtyard at the edge of the village and told him to live alone.
Jiang Chen never blamed him. He understood the danger he brought.
As he grew stronger and honed his abilities, he started hunting — hoping he could give back to the village. He once caught plenty of game and generously tried to share it with the villagers.
But he was met only with fear and rejection.
The villagers wouldn't even touch the prey he brought back. They were convinced that accepting anything from Jiang Chen would bring misfortune down on their heads.
Only Old Jack and Tang San's family dared to speak with him normally.
Every time he had something to offer, he'd bring a portion to Old Jack. The old man, while cautious, never outright rejected him — and that small kindness was enough for Jiang Chen.
As he walked through the village, people gave him a wide berth. Whether it was women doing laundry, men carrying farm tools, or children playing in the dirt, all of them looked away with fearful expressions — as if even eye contact would bring disaster.
"That cursed child… bad luck incarnate!" a woman muttered behind her hand.
A few daring kids even picked up stones and tossed them at him from a distance — none of which even came close.
Jiang Chen suddenly turned toward them and took a sharp step forward.
"RAAH!!"
The children shrieked in terror and scattered in all directions, like frightened birds.
"Heh. Still so easy to scare," Jiang Chen smirked. Messing with those little brats was one of the few fun things left in his day.
He arrived at Old Jack's place shortly after.
The morning sun had risen fully by now. True to his usual habit, Old Jack was lounging in his courtyard on a bamboo recliner, soaking in the warmth of the sun like an old cat.
"Grandpa Jack!" Jiang Chen called out as he approached.
Old Jack's body stiffened at the sound. He jumped up from his chair, rushed to the gate, and slammed it shut with a loud CLACK before Jiang Chen could get any closer.
Lock! Lock! Lock!
After securing the gate, he backed away five paces, sighing with relief.
Jiang Chen didn't take it to heart. He was used to this.
He stopped a few meters from the door and held up the fish. "Brought you some breakfast, Grandpa Jack."
"Oho, Xiao Chen, you're such a thoughtful boy! Just hang it on the doorknob — I'll bring it in later," Old Jack said with a forced smile, still standing a cautious five meters away.
Jiang Chen obediently hung the fish on the gate, his gaze drifting toward the familiar courtyard behind it — the place he had once called home for three years.
He'd lived here since infancy.
Old Jack had picked him up as a baby, abandoned outside Notting City, thin as a twig and barely clinging to life.
The old man once thought the child wouldn't survive the night — but somehow, Jiang Chen had stubbornly pulled through.
That same night, dark clouds had covered the entire village, and thunder roared in the skies like the fury of the gods. Many believed it was an omen.
Years later, when Jiang Chen began practicing his strange, sinister martial spirit and accidentally caused harm to others, the villagers connected the dots — believing he was cursed from the beginning.
Heaven itself had cast him out, they said. A child so evil, even the gods raged at his existence.
Jiang Chen, of course, didn't believe such superstitions.
He was just a child. How could he possibly provoke the wrath of the heavens?
As he turned to leave, something suddenly came to mind.
"Oh right! Grandpa Jack, when is Su Yuntao coming to the village?"
Old Jack's voice rang out sternly. "How many times have I told you — show some respect! It's Master Su Yuntao!"
"Fine, fine," Jiang Chen muttered.
Old Jack's tone softened. "He'll be here the day after tomorrow. Be sure to come over that morning so you can awaken your martial spirit with the others."