Chapter One: The Second Young Master

Yuyang City, South City, the Yang Family—within a secluded courtyard.

A youth garbed in black sat cross-legged upon a meditation cushion, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Though his skin was tanned, his lips showed not the slightest trace of blood.

With a long exhale, a thin stream of white mist escaped his mouth, swirling in the air before vanishing without a trace. Had any worldly martial artist witnessed a youth cultivating genuine qi at his age, they would have been shocked beyond words. In this age, such an accomplishment was far beyond the reach of common folk.

As the breath left him, the young man's eyes opened, a glint of keen light flashing within before it faded, replaced briefly by a blankness that vanished in an instant. Indeed, it had been a month since he arrived in this world. At first, he was bewildered and lost, but now, he was finally coming to terms with his new reality.

A month—hardly a long time, yet he had forced himself to blend into this world.

His name was Yang Ze. Now, he resided in a small courtyard within the Yang family estate, bearing the identity of the family's second young master.

The Yang family was no minor household in all Yuyang City. Their wealth need not be mentioned, but the family head, Yang Yuanzhen, was renowned as one of the city's foremost martial experts, with many influential friends in the local government.

At first glance, this seemed an enviable position. With such a formidable father, life as his son should have been easy. Yet, only Yang Ze knew the truth of his current standing.

To begin with, the family head, Yang Yuanzhen, had three sons. Yang Ze was the second, but in all respects, he paled in comparison to his elder brother, who looked down on him.

A glance at his living quarters made it clear: while the direct line of the family resided in the main residence, only he had been moved out to a separate courtyard—a telling sign of his treatment.

The reason was simple: his mediocre talent.

This world was part of the Tianwu Dynasty, a realm Yang Ze had yet to explore, but he knew it revered martial prowess above all—strength was the measure of respect.

Here, any family of standing had its children train in martial arts from a young age, striving to become formidable in their own right, and the Yang family was no exception.

As the second son, Yang Ze had begun training in basic martial disciplines at the age of eight. Ten years later, he had achieved nothing of note, earning a reputation for mediocrity throughout the family.

Because of this, when he turned fourteen, his father ordered him to move into this separate courtyard. Aside from an old servant who tended to his daily needs, he lived in seclusion.

Fortunately, Yang Ze was not overly attached to luxury. His life was comfortable enough—his needs were met, and as long as he could live peacefully, he was content.

But in this world rife with danger, even a life of idle ease was difficult to maintain.

Just a month ago, upon his arrival, an assassin attacked him. If not for Old Xie’s timely intervention, he would have lost his life.

That incident steeled his resolve: he had to cultivate with all his effort. With such meager talent, if he did not work hard, death could come at any time.

Raising his head to watch the last rays of sunlight fade, Yang Ze rose from his cushion and strode quickly into his room, lighting a candle.

Its glow filled the chamber as he produced a small booklet, its cover bearing the words: “Heart of the Sea Method.”

This was no ordinary text—it was an internal cultivation manual, the only one possessed by the Yang family.

In this age, martial arts flourished, giving rise to countless methods and techniques. Only by cultivating such arts could one become a true martial artist.

Martial disciplines were divided into cultivation methods and martial skills. The former—internal methods—allowed one to ascend in rank, while the latter encompassed combat techniques.

Such arts were invaluable. Though the Yang family was counted among the city’s leading houses, they possessed only this one internal method, the Heart of the Sea Method, and even that was considered merely average among such techniques.

Nevertheless, this single method secured the Yang family’s status; many factions in Yuyang City could not even obtain a cultivation method.

The family guarded their method fiercely; only the young masters received it freely, and even then, only the first three levels. Higher levels were reserved for those who proved their worth.

The Heart of the Sea Method comprised six layers, but the Yang family only possessed five; the sixth was lost to their ancestors.

Even the fifth layer was rare—only his father had reached it, while the rest of the family barely attained the fourth.

The original Yang Ze had begun cultivating this method at fourteen. After four years, he had only just mastered the first layer. The second layer eluded him, and so the first three levels seemed challenge enough for a lifetime.

But that was before. Now, Yang Ze was but a step away from breaking through to the second layer.

After today’s cultivation, he had finally managed to condense a wisp of genuine qi within his body.

Reaching the second layer meant forming true qi—this was known as the “Qi Induction” stage.

This was not achieved by Yang Ze alone, but by relying on the only advantage he gained upon arriving in this world—a black stone, no larger than a quarter of a palm.

From what he learned, it was called the Black Stone.

Though it appeared to be an ordinary rock, the Black Stone possessed astonishing powers. It could perfectly replicate the cultivation methods he practiced within itself, then feed that progress back to him, greatly accelerating his training.

It had another power: it could transform any spiritual herbs he consumed into a mysterious energy and inject it into his body.

As for the purpose of this energy, Yang Ze was unsure. He had only consumed a ginseng root once and received a single infusion of energy, so the effects were not yet clear.

Still, he could feel his mind was sharper than when he first arrived—proof enough that the energy was beneficial.

He knew all this because, upon his arrival, the Black Stone had implanted a memory into his mind.

Yet memory was one thing; whether the stone was truly as powerful as described remained to be seen.

One thing was certain, however—the stone was useful, at least in speeding up his cultivation.

Placing his right hand over his chest, he felt the hard lump of the Black Stone beneath his clothing. He drew it forth, holding it in his palm—a simple, unremarkable black stone. Yet Yang Ze knew it was this very stone that struck him as he left his old home, bringing him to this world.

Now, it was his only support—fate’s strange gift, and surely a treasure of great origin.

Just then, a knock sounded at his door.

“Young Master, it is time to eat,” an old voice called from outside.

Yang Ze’s brow furrowed, but he quickly regained his composure.

He slipped the Black Stone away, rose, and called out, “Old Xie, bring the food in.”

As his words fell, the door opened, and an old man entered carrying a tray of dishes. His hands were rough and calloused, veins visible beneath the skin—a sign that he was no ordinary servant.

The old man, known as Old Xie, had served the Yang family for thirty-six years. He had learned martial arts himself and was considered skilled among the hundreds of servants. He alone was tasked with Yang Ze’s daily care.

Since Yang Ze moved into the courtyard at fourteen, Old Xie had tended to him for four years. They had grown familiar over time.

After the assassination attempt, Old Xie had nursed him back to health—without him, Yang Ze might have starved.

“Young Master, I’ll set the food here,” Old Xie said respectfully.

Yang Ze acknowledged him with a quiet nod. He noticed that, in addition to the meal, there was a ginseng root on the tray.

He quickly realized that, as the son of the family head, he was entitled to a ginseng root each month for nourishment. The time had come, and it had been delivered as expected.

Seeing the ginseng eased Yang Ze’s mind. It was the most common of spiritual herbs in this world, and now he could use it to test some of the Black Stone’s abilities.

Before touching the food, Yang Ze noticed Old Xie had not left as usual.

In his memory, their interactions were brief—Old Xie rarely lingered. Why was he hesitating now?

Sensing Yang Ze's gaze, Old Xie spoke slowly.

“Young Master, there is something I have heard lately, though I am unsure if I should mention it.”

Yang Ze’s brow furrowed. “Speak plainly. Do not be evasive.” As the Yang family’s second son, he still maintained his dignity.

Seeing the young master’s sternness, Old Xie answered at once, “There are rumors in the manor that the family head plans to send you to manage the family’s businesses. Some say you are wasting the family’s resources and should be sent out sooner rather than later.”

“And was it Yang Deyi who said that last part?”

Old Xie paused, then nodded. “Yes.”