Dark clouds filled the sky, and from time to time, lightning would streak across the heavens, followed by muffled thunder. A heavy rain was imminent.
In Crouching Tiger City, Shen Xiang looked up at the sky and muttered, "I can't delay any longer. I must find good spiritual herbs, or I'll lose my last chance to rise again."
Shen Xiang was sixteen years old, with a physique more robust and taller than most his age. His strong build contrasted sharply with his still-boyish but handsome face. However, the deep, mature gaze in his eyes betrayed a maturity far beyond his years.
Shen Xiang was heading out to gather herbs. Although he was the grandson of the Shen Family's patriarch, he had no spiritual meridians, which meant he couldn't become a powerful martial artist. Because of this, he had dedicated himself to intense physical training from a young age. He often went out alone for secret training and had even battled tigers with his bare hands. Despite his youth, he had faced life-and-death situations multiple times, giving him a mental fortitude and willpower far beyond his peers.
"Isn't that Shen Xiang? It's about to rain, and you're still going out to train?" an old steward said as he approached. Though he admired Shen Xiang's determination, there was a tinge of sorrow in his eyes.
Shen Xiang had been training diligently for six years, but he was still stuck at the third level of the Mortal Martial Realm. Most of his peers in the Shen family had already reached the fourth level, and the more talented ones had reached the fifth.
All of this was due to his lack of spiritual meridians. Because of it, he wasn't valued within the family and had become just an ordinary member of the Shen clan.
But despite not having spiritual meridians, Shen Xiang never gave up. His tireless training made him feel fulfilled, even if it brought no visible results.
"Uncle Ma, I'm going herb-picking," Shen Xiang said with a grin as he darted past the steward and tugged playfully at the whip tied to his bald head.
"It's useless. Without spiritual meridians, no matter how hard you work, it'll all be in vain!" the old steward sighed and shook his head.
Shen Xiang had heard those words countless times, but he always persisted. No matter what, he would not give up.
"Xiang'er, the weather's like this—don't go!" a middle-aged man came over.
Shen Xiang pouted and replied, "Father, rainy days are the best time to pick herbs—at least I won't have to fight others for them."
The man was Shen Tianhu, Shen Xiang's father, a powerful martial artist renowned throughout the region and a prime candidate to be the next patriarch of the Shen family. Even though his son lacked spiritual meridians, he always encouraged Shen Xiang and gave him rare pills from time to time—though they didn't seem to help much.
"Take this," Shen Tianhu said with a wry smile, tossing a small box to Shen Xiang.
Shen Xiang caught it and didn't bother to look inside. He knew it contained pills. He grinned and said, "Thanks, Dad. Now I won't need to steal chickens from Uncle Ma to supplement my diet."
That made the steward grimace. He hadn't realized he was a target.
Watching Shen Xiang's figure disappear into the distance, Shen Tianhu sighed. Despite his high standing in the family, the elders tightly controlled rare pills and training resources. He had to cut back on his own share to give them to Shen Xiang, but it wasn't enough.
What father doesn't want his son to succeed? But Shen Tianhu had no other choice—he was doing all he could to help.
At the edge of the Desolate Demon-Immortal Cliff, a half-naked young man was scaling the cliff face in the pouring rain.
This place was extremely dangerous. The bottom of the cliff was a bottomless abyss, filled with black deathly mist that had lingered for ages. Most avoided this place at all costs.
Yet Shen Xiang was here gathering herbs, climbing down the cliff wall—an act most would deem suicidal. After all, it was commonly believed that such lifeless places couldn't possibly yield valuable herbs.
But Shen Xiang wasn't stupid—he was quite clever. He knew this cliff had existed for countless years, and the deathly aura below was unimaginably ancient.
Ordinary people believed that where there was no life, there could be no spiritual herbs. But Shen Xiang believed in the principle of extremes giving rise to the opposite. He was certain that somewhere along this cliff grew a legendary herb.
Hell Ganoderma. Despite its sinister name, this herb was known for its miraculous healing powers—reviving the dead, regenerating flesh. It typically grew in ancient battlefields or graveyards, thriving in places thick with death.
Rain helped sink the black mist, allowing Shen Xiang to see deeper into the cliff and search more thoroughly for the Hell Ganoderma.
He didn't need it for himself, but if he could find and sell it, it would fetch an astronomical price. With that wealth, he could buy a large supply of powerful pills and finally break through his limits.
Raindrops pelted his body, making the cliff even more slippery and dangerous. But Shen Xiang was cautious, climbing steadily.
No one knew what lay at the bottom of the cliff. Though many had ventured down, none had ever returned—falling meant certain death.
Two hours passed, the rain still pouring. Thanks to years of training, Shen Xiang had made it dozens of meters down.
Finding a decent foothold, he scanned the area below—and his heart leapt wildly.
"Hell Ganoderma!" Shen Xiang cried in excitement. Just ten meters below him was a large, white, pancake-like object clinging to the cliff wall. He was sure it was the legendary herb.
Camouflaged against the grey cliff and shrouded in death mist, it was almost impossible to spot.
Heart pounding, Shen Xiang forced himself to calm down, rested briefly, then continued his descent.
Soon, he reached the herb. It was the size of a basin and emanated a powerful life force.
Using only one hand, he painstakingly harvested the massive Hell Ganoderma and stored it in his precious spatial pouch. Laughing wildly, he shouted, "Haha! Time for this salted fish to turn over!"
With this herb sold, he could buy high-grade pills and finally soar in strength.
As the rain lightened, Shen Xiang decided not to push his luck. He was satisfied with his harvest and began the hard climb back up.
But after half an hour of climbing, the cliff began to tremble.
Startled, Shen Xiang looked up—stones were falling from above, and the shaking grew stronger.
"Damn it! I just got the Hell Ganoderma! Heaven, don't play jokes on me now!" he cursed.
He tried to stay calm, clinging tightly to the uneven surface to avoid falling.
But the tremors worsened. Cracks formed in the rock he was holding.
"Heaven! I just got a miracle herb, and now you want to send me to hell?!" he screamed, furious.
Just then, the rock gave way—and Shen Xiang plummeted into the misty abyss.
"AHHH—!" His anguished cry echoed into the depths…
Who knows how long passed.
Shen Xiang opened his eyes and was shocked to see light—deep underground, in the abyss. Even more shocking: he was underwater—but could still breathe!
He surfaced to find himself in a glowing, white-lit pool.
Nearby, two breathtaking women with long, flowing hair sat cross-legged.
What stunned him most: they weren't wearing any clothes.
Their flawless bodies were fully exposed. Their skin looked like it was carved from the purest jade. Full, round chests, slender waists—they were the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
The sight overwhelmed Shen Xiang. His mind went blank, face flushed, heart racing.
The two women remained still, looking at each other, apparently unaware of Shen Xiang's burning gaze. He felt oddly insulted—they didn't even acknowledge his presence.
After a brief daze, Shen Xiang noticed the devastation around him. The area bore signs of fierce battle—cracked ground, fallen rocks, and torn silk remnants scattered around.
He guessed the women had fought here, destroying their clothes in the process.
Though Shen Xiang didn't know who they were, he could sense their power—it was far beyond anything he'd ever known.
"Damn femme fatales! They're the reason I fell! Lucky I survived!" he muttered. Still, he was curious about the mysterious beauties.
Shen Xiang couldn't take his eyes off them as he crept closer.
This place—called "Hell" beside the Demon-Immortal Cliff—felt more like paradise: a glowing sacred pool, and two nude goddesses.
At that moment, the two women finally noticed the fiery gaze upon them—and their expressions shifted to fury and embarrassment.