Chapter 1: Returning to the Su Family Again

Tianyuan Empire, Yun Prefecture—one of the thirty-six provinces.

Yongan Commandery, the Su estate.

“The young master has returned!”

The cry echoed throughout the residence. Within and outside the gates of the Su estate, people crowded together—most were handmaidens and servants, but also among them were core descendants of the Su clan. All eyes turned to a youth clad in black, escorted through the gates by vigilant guards.

“It really is Su Xin. How dare he come back!”

“It's his fault the Su family declined these past years!”

“The disgraced son of the Su family…”

The gazes of the servants, the handmaidens, and even the core family members bore flames of anger and resentment as they looked at the black-clad youth.

The Su family was once among the most illustrious in the Tianyuan Empire, standing at the very pinnacle. They boasted an elder in the Nirvana Realm and commanded countless powerful retainers. But years ago, calamity struck—the family’s revered ancestor suffered a grievous injury and hovered at death's door…

Before his passing, the old patriarch had made thorough arrangements: he had secured a marriage alliance with the imperial family. If, at that time, Su Xin—the young master and the family’s greatest prodigy—could defeat the genius of the powerful Situ clan, he would marry the Ninth Princess and become the imperial son-in-law.

With imperial protection, the Su family would not only have maintained its status but perhaps would have soared even higher.

Yet on the day of the contest, Su Xin never appeared.

He fled without a fight.

Had he fought valiantly yet lost, the Su clan would have accepted their fate and not blamed him. But to flee in cowardice and cost the family their imperial connection—such disgrace and downfall, all blame fell upon his shoulders.

Even the Emperor of Tianyuan, in his wrath, ordered Su Xin imprisoned in the Forbidden Magic Prison for three years as punishment.

Now, those three years were over. Su Xin was released and returned home.

“Su Xin!”

A core member of the Su clan suddenly stepped forward, blocking Su Xin’s path, shouting, “Traitor! Coward! How dare you show your face here!”

“Su Ming?”

Su Xin’s heart twisted as he recognized the young man before him.

Su Ming was his cousin, two years his junior. Once, Su Ming had idolized him, trailing behind him everywhere. But now…

“Master Su Ming, the patriarch’s orders are clear. No one is to hinder the young master’s return,” the escorting guard stated coldly.

Su Ming bit his lip, cast Su Xin a venomous glare, then turned and left with a cold snort.

Guided by the guards, Su Xin was led to a secluded courtyard within the estate.

“Young master, the patriarch has assigned you this new residence. He also instructed that, unless necessary, you should remain within these quarters,” the guard said.

“My father… does not wish to see me?” Su Xin asked.

The guard shook his head, then turned and departed.

Su Xin stood still, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his flesh.

“Even my father cannot forgive me?” he murmured bitterly.

He understood. Fleeing a duel was a mark of shame.

Worse still, it had led to the Su family’s total decline.

But no one knew the truth: his flight was not from cowardice, nor fear of facing his opponent, but because he had been left with no choice.

“There was no other way!”

“How could I have foreseen that, on the eve of the duel, my bloodline would awaken?”

His eyes gleamed like lightning as he unconsciously clenched his fists tighter.

In the martial world, strength reigns supreme.

Yet beyond ordinary martial artists, there exist those who wield special powers—these are known as the Awakened.

They command the power of bloodlines.

The Awakened are all extraordinary, but before their bloodline awakens, they are indistinguishable from common men. The awakening strikes suddenly, without warning. For Su Xin, it happened the day before the crucial duel.

The agony of awakening was unlike anything he had ever known. Forced to flee to a remote wilderness, he buried himself beneath the earth, struggling for three days and nights before the ordeal ended.

By the time his family found him, the duel had long passed.

Afterward, he could offer no defense.

For the bloodline that awakened within him was no ordinary gift.

There are ranks to bloodline awakenings.

Third and second-grade bloodlines: rare prodigies among tens of millions.

First-grade bloodlines: the talent of a qilin—a legendary blessing, perhaps fewer than twenty in an entire era across the Eastern Wastes.

Divine bloodlines: seen but once in a thousand years. The emergence of a divine bloodline shakes the very foundations of the region, igniting fierce struggles among all powers.

But Su Xin awakened a bloodline that surpassed even the divine—the Supreme Bloodline.

Supreme Bloodline: Sovereign among mortals, unseen since the dawn of history.

It was spoken of only in legend; never before had it appeared in all the annals of the Eastern Wastes.

Su Xin had awakened this mythic bloodline. He dared not reveal it to anyone, unable to imagine what calamity would befall him and his family if the truth were known.

So he kept silent.

Bearing the weight of his clan’s misunderstanding, he entered the Forbidden Magic Prison.

The Su family declined, but with him, a world of possibilities remained.

…

At dusk.

Su Xin stood in the courtyard, eyes closed, sword in hand. Beside him stood a young woman in red.

Her name was Hong Shan. Once his maid, she had grown up with him and remained unfailingly loyal. Upon learning of Su Xin’s return, she immediately resumed her service at his side.

“It’s been so long since I watched you practice, young master.”

Watching Su Xin, Hong Shan’s eyes shone with excitement and hope.

He had always been the foremost prodigy of his generation, renowned for his swordsmanship. Even at fifteen, three years prior, his mastery surpassed many seasoned experts of the Su clan.

To witness him practice was an honor for her.

Suddenly, Su Xin moved.

A flash of the blade—a flurry of snowflakes seemed to swirl in the air.

His speed was astonishing.

“Drifting Snow Sword Technique,” Hong Shan whispered, her eyes alight.

Among the many sword arts in the Su family’s arsenal, this was one of the highest. Renowned for its speed and unpredictability, the technique’s ultimate move—Snow-Slicing Form—built momentum with each strike, every sword faster than the last. At mastery, one could launch nine consecutive strikes, each more terrifying than the last.

“The Snow-Slicing Form is coming,” Hong Shan murmured, transfixed.

Su Xin’s movements were ethereal; the sword flashed like lightning, thrusting seven times in an instant, then the eighth, then the ninth…

Each motion flowed seamlessly into the next.

“The ninth strike… Young master has truly perfected this art.” Joy lit Hong Shan’s face—then suddenly, her expression froze in shock. “What?”

After nine rapid thrusts, Su Xin’s sword did not pause. Instead, with perfect fluidity, he unleashed a tenth strike.

Then an eleventh, a twelfth…

And finally, an even swifter thirteenth, piercing the very air and leaving a thunderous crack behind. Only then did Su Xin come to a halt.

Hong Shan was stunned.

“The Snow-Slicing Form’s peak is the ninth strike. How did the young master reach the thirteenth?”

“The thirteenth…”

Su Xin, however, remained calm.

He had always been a true genius of the sword. Since awakening his Supreme Bloodline, his talent and insight had soared, granting him abilities beyond imagining.

Three years in the Forbidden Magic Prison, he had not practiced with a blade, but in his mind, he endlessly refined his techniques. By now, he was no longer bound by the limits of recorded sword forms; through his own deductions, he had devised even greater moves.

The manual described nine strikes—but after three years of contemplation, he had reached thirteen.

“Young master, would you like a change of clothes?” Hong Shan stepped forward, offering a fresh robe.

“No need.” Su Xin waved her off. “It's been three years since I walked these grounds. Come, walk with me.”

“Young master, the patriarch instructed that you should not leave the courtyard unless necessary,” Hong Shan cautioned.

“He’ll have to tell me that to my face,” Su Xin replied with a smile, stepping out of the courtyard.

A heavy stillness hung over the estate.

As Su Xin walked, he could feel the suffocating atmosphere that now pervaded his family home.

“In just three years, so much has changed,” he mused, eyes cold.

After the old patriarch’s death and the lost chance at a royal marriage, the Su family’s decline became irreversible. Their old rivals, the Situ family, took the opportunity to relentlessly suppress them, reducing the once-mighty Su clan to a second-rate house struggling to survive in a single commandery.

Yet even now, the Situ family did not relent. They secretly supported the Pang family of Yongning Commandery, provoking them to continually oppose the Sus, even seeking to wipe them out completely.

Inside the Su family, unity had crumbled.

With the patriarch gone, most retainers—more than ninety percent—had departed. Those who remained, led by Zhao Tianlei, a master of the Void-Breaking Realm, had formed an independent faction within the estate.

They refused the family’s authority, seizing resources and influence through overt and covert means, threatening to supplant the true leaders of the clan.

Thus, the Su family faced not only external threats but inner turmoil.

“Hmm?”

Su Xin had reached the martial training grounds, where a crowd had gathered. At the center, two figures clashed in fierce combat.

“Haha! Su Ming, so you dare challenge me after your breakthrough. But did you really think that would make you my match? What a joke!” a voice mocked with smug satisfaction.

“Su Ming?” Su Xin’s eyes narrowed as he recognized one of the combatants—the same cousin who had blocked him earlier.

The other—

“Zhao Qing?” Su Xin’s gaze chilled.

Zhao was not a core member of the Su family, but a descendant of a retainer. This Zhao Qing was the son of Zhao Tianlei, the leader of the faction within the Su estate.

Zhao Tianlei had two sons—the elder, Zhao Ling, and the younger, Zhao Qing.

“The faction led by Zhao Tianlei has become a cancer within the Su family. If I am to restore our clan’s greatness, the first to be dealt with are Zhao Tianlei and his sons,” Su Xin’s eyes glinted with icy resolve.

The Su family fell because of him.

But it would be he who would lead them to rise again—reclaiming their place as the foremost family in the Tianyuan Empire, and in all the Eastern Wastes.

Zhao Tianlei and his sons would be the first stepping stones on his path to glory.