Chapter 1: Another Life as a Youth

'Bang!'

The ear-piercing screech of brakes tore through the long night.

Qin Sang was still hesitating. It wasn't that he lacked the courage to go down fighting, but he still had family—parents, brothers...

The sharp pain radiating through his body pulled him back to reality. There was only pain; his limbs refused to obey him. His body felt deformed, wedged into a cramped corner, the jagged iron frame looking hideous.

The car spun violently. The lights merged with the neon signs along the road, creating a kaleidoscope in his field of vision. A red line appeared before him, and the dark yellow jade Buddha hanging at the end of the line traced a short arc before smashing into the bridge of his nose.

Amidst the interplay of light and shadow, a fountain of blood submerged the jade Buddha; his carotid artery must have ruptured.

"A car accident!"

Qin Sang was filled with regret. The other party had struck first; he shouldn't have hesitated!

Death—everything, all his efforts, everything he cared about—lost its meaning, shattering like a reflection in a mirror or the moon in the water.

The only thing he could think of was what kind of place he was about to go to...

It must be hell.

"I want to live."

Qin Sang’s eyes were wide open.

The inertia from the impact hadn't ceased; the car was still spinning. The jade Buddha in front of him swayed and swayed, as if it were swaying into his very soul.

A dark vortex swallowed him whole.

'Boom!'

...

The scorching sun was like fire.

The rocky mountains were steep and craggy, with little greenery. Occasional, short bursts of bird calls drifted from afar, adding to the sweltering heat.

On the rugged mountain road, a line of prisoner wagons moved slowly. On both sides of the convoy, several fierce-looking, burly men galloped on horseback, cracking whips to drive the horses and shouting curses.

These burly men in the saddle didn't look like government officials; their words and actions were more like those of bandits or mountain robbers.

The cages on the wagons were also crudely made; one look told you they were newly built, the wood still showing fresh, white splinters.

Every cage was packed with prisoners.

Qin Sang’s hands and feet were bound, and he was curled up in the corner of the cage, his gaze regaining a sliver of clarity.

Ever since he regained consciousness, he had been in a daze, with only brief moments of lucidity. It wasn't until today that he had fully digested the memories of this body.

This physical vessel was also surnamed Qin, from a village called Wangjiazhuang. His parents were farmers, and he had two older brothers. Being the third in the family, the villagers called him "Sanwa." He hadn't reached adulthood yet and didn't have a formal name.

The Qin family was hardworking, and with many laborers in the house, their life was considered well-off. But how much gold and silver could one really scrape from the soil?

Qin’s parents had other ideas. Not only did they send Qin Sanwa to study, but as soon as he turned fifteen, they took him to plead with Shopkeeper Wang, hoping to secure him a trade.

This Shopkeeper Wang was an old friend of Qin’s father and also from Wangjiazhuang. In his youth, he had built up a shop in a nearby small town, making him far wealthier than the village farmers—a man of status.

Seeing that Qin Sanwa was honest, Shopkeeper Wang was willing to take him on as an apprentice. Qin’s parents were naturally grateful and agreed without hesitation.

This was the first time in his life Qin Sanwa had left home. In his trepidation, he strictly followed his parents' teachings, working diligently, which made Shopkeeper Wang like him even more, often bringing him along on purchasing trips.

Unexpectedly, the world was in chaos. Not long after the shopkeeper and his young apprentice set out, they encountered this band of mountain robbers on the mountain path. Shopkeeper Wang was beheaded with a single stroke, while Qin Sanwa was bound and thrown into a prisoner wagon, his life temporarily spared.

Poor Qin Sanwa had never encountered such a tragedy and soon died of fright, leaving the body for Qin Sang.

Like a cuckoo occupying a magpie's nest, the unfamiliar body gave Qin Sang a distinct sense of alienation and strangeness. The various signs in his memories indicated that this was a world vastly different from his previous life, but Qin Sang was in no mood to care about that.

The sun grew more venomous, his body was exhausted, and his wounds throbbed unbearably. Qin Sang pulled himself together, blinking his sore eyes. His gaze suddenly swept to the last wagon in the convoy, and he remembered a scene he had witnessed three days ago while conscious. Even at high noon, a chill ran down his spine.

Looking ahead and behind, there were few prisoner wagons left.

There was no time. He had to find a way to escape!

The convoy had been heading north for over ten days. They were now very far from Wangjiazhuang. Qin Sanwa’s memories provided no help, and Qin Sang had no idea what territory they were in.

At first, they traveled on main roads, as these bandits were lawless and had captured many people.

Once they had enough captives, they specifically took to the wilderness and mountain forests, deliberately avoiding other people.

In the desolate wilderness, there was no one to call for help.

To survive, he could only rely on himself!

The narrow cage was packed with five men. Qin Sang was squeezed until his bones ached, so he shifted backward.

The prisoners locked in the cage were all young, able-bodied men, just like Qin Sanwa—poor, innocent people who had been captured.

Qin Sang pushed hard a few times, but there were no curses, only weak groans. He couldn't help but feel a wave of despair.

Including himself, the prisoners were all starving and incredibly weak. Those bandits were all strong and powerful, and they had horses. How could he possibly escape?

Just then, a light breeze blew, bringing a rare touch of coolness. He saw a jade-like ribbon appear ahead; behind the mountain was a river of moderate size. The river surface was wide and calm, shimmering with light, not at all turbulent.

There were ancient trees on the riverbank, and waist-high yellow grass covered the entire river beach. It rustled in the wind—an excellent place to bury a corpse.

"Whoa!"

The leader of the bandits, a burly man with a thick beard, led the team to the riverbank. He then turned his horse around and rode toward the last wagon.

Unlike the other prisoner wagons, this one was covered with a black cloth. One couldn't see who was inside, and the person inside had never come out.

Before reaching the wagon, the leader dismounted, wiped the ferocity from his face, walked lightly to the side of the wagon, knelt on both knees, and said respectfully, "Reporting to the Immortal Master, this is the Chenshui River. The Chenshui River connects to the Wuling River. We are now within the borders of the Great Sui Dynasty."

The wagon was silent; there was no response. The leader remained prostrate on the ground, not daring to rise.

After a while, a hoarse, unpleasant voice drifted out, "Build a raft to cross the river. Continue north."

The bearded man hurriedly agreed. Just as he was about to stand up, a violent coughing fit erupted from inside the wagon. "Quick... quickly send two blood-offerings in... *cough, cough*..."

Qin Sang was struck with horror, and then all the prisoners began to stir.

Whenever that "Immortal Master" demanded blood-offerings, two prisoners would be sent into the black-clothed wagon, and an hour later, two corpses would be sent out.

Three days ago, Qin Sang had accidentally seen the state of the corpses. People went in alive, but what came out were dried husks—their flesh and blood completely sucked dry, with only skin clinging to the skeletons.

Those shriveled eye sockets were still vivid in his mind, as if they were telling him of boundless terror, shattering Qin Sang’s worldview.

If his five senses weren't so clear, Qin Sang would have thought he had arrived in the eighteenth level of hell, though he didn't remember which level featured the torture of draining flesh and blood.

"Get out!"

The leader arranged for his men to cut trees and build a raft, while he personally dragged two people from the adjacent wagon.

Qin Sang breathed a sigh of relief, but the despair in his heart did not diminish in the slightest. If he couldn't escape, he would at most live a few days longer than these two; what was there to be happy about?

Qin Sang’s eyes were fixed on the bandits building the raft. Their efficiency was astonishing; in the blink of an eye, a raft was about to be completed. Qin Sang could only pray that they would cut corners and the raft would capsize and fall apart in the river.

Compared to being sucked dry, he would rather drown in the river. He would just treat this life as one last dream before death.

The leader walked quickly toward the wagon, dragging the two unlucky souls who were screaming with their last ounce of strength. The bandits by the river laughed incessantly.

The sound of water, the wind, swords, footsteps, screams, groans, and cruel laughter...

All kinds of sounds rushed into his ears. The whole world suddenly became noisy. Qin Sang felt incredibly agitated, his head spinning as if he were about to faint, when suddenly, he heard a thunderous shout.

"Demon! Let's see where you run to this time!"

Qin Sang looked up abruptly, only to see a dazzling white light flash from the mountaintop, piercing through the air, brighter than the sun itself.

The white light flickered, looking like a sword!