The Gods and Goddesses reside beyond the Nine Heavens, viewing the mortal realm as a mere speck of cosmic dust. The great Buddhas show compassion for all living beings, yet their hands are too far to touch daily life. The Great Immortal Emperor, the endless Sovereign, is only a whispered legend on the lips of mortals. The immortal wind of that legend whispers, flowing through space and time, weaving endless tales of the search for the Dao.
Amidst the expanse of countless stars, a gigantic gem floats in the cosmic void—a vast plain named Xing Luò Plain. This plain, so immense it dwarfs the mortal world, is where the history of mortals and cultivators is engraved. Xing Luò Plain is one of the nine great plains within the sun and earth's trajectory, a bridge connecting the mortal realm to the potential of immortality. Beneath it, the terrifying Underworld lurks, a chasm of void where ancient monsters and forgotten artifacts occasionally surface, creating terror and opportunities in equal measure for those who dare to explore it.
Xing Luò Plain is a stretch of wilderness dominated by primeval forests. The trees here are not just large; they are living giants whose roots reach the depths of the earth, their canopies obscuring the sunlight and creating perpetual darkness on the forest floor. Rivers flow rapidly, their rapids roaring, carrying mineral-rich silt and Jade Essence eroded from hidden mountains. Nature here is still very primitive and wild. Ferocious beasts howl—they are not just animals, but beings with physical strength that surpasses mortal logic, hunting prey with the speed of wind and claws that can rip through wood. In the heart of this vast wilderness, where thick mist occasionally descends from silent mountain peaks, lies a remote point: Star Village.
Star Village is a small fortress of mortality on the edge of a cruel world. The simple houses here are made of dense ironwood, harvested from naturally fallen giant trees. The roofs are layered with thick thatch mixed with dry mud, providing decent resistance to rain and humidity. The village streets are compacted earth that has been trodden for generations, adorned with piles of freshly harvested grain and the aroma of smoked wild beast meat.
The hustle and bustle of the villagers is always the same: the adult men butcher game from their expeditions to the forest outskirts to sell to daring merchants; the women weave grain sacks and tend to the small children, while occasionally their eyes glance toward the training field.
In the village's open field, where the morning sun can only filter through the gaps in the forest canopy, shouts and thudding sounds echo.
"Your stances are weak as babies! Do you want Star Village to end up being eaten by wolves just because your legs tremble while hunting?" The voice was heavy and piercing, belonging to an old man standing in the middle of the field.
The old man was Wu Quezi, the Head of Star Village. His body was thin yet sturdy, and the wrinkles on his face were a map of long experience in the wild. His eyes radiated wisdom and, more importantly, a sincere affection for the youths he nurtured—they were the spears of Star Village, hopeful young men whose strength must be honed for the village to remain standing in this cruel land.
Around him, a group of youths trained. Their ages ranged from seventeen to twenty years. They practiced the Earth Stable Stance, punching sacks of grain filled with sand and small stones until dusty, and did endurance training by lifting thick wooden logs shaped into crude barbells. "Today, we will practice the shadow hunter movement!" Wu Quezi commanded, his voice rising. "This movement is the only way mortals like us can survive against low-level wild beasts. Focus on your knees, absorb the shock, and move like a snake beneath the rocks!"
"Again, young Tang! Your knees are pointing outwards! You look like a duck trying to dance on mud!"
A stocky youth named Tang burst into laughter as he tried to correct his position. "Oh, Grandfather Wu! I'm trying my best! But these knees seem to have a mind of their own!" Tang said, wiping the dust from his arms.
Another youth, named Mingling, who had a shorter stature, retorted in a teasing tone. "If your knees have a mind of their own, Tang, then that mind must be sleeping in a pile of grain! Focus! I have to be able to hit this sack ten times faster than you today!"
Bashan shouted back, "Go ahead! But if you hit faster, I'll beat you in breath endurance later! Don't pass out again like last week!"
Wu Quezi shook his head with a slight smile, satisfied to see their spirit. A little banter was necessary so their persistence would not fade. Among the youths who looked mighty and strong, was Zhi Xuan. In the eyes of outsiders, he was the most fragile youth in the group. His body was slender, lacking the large muscle mass of Tang, but instead held flexible muscles, trained for speed rather than raw power.
He wore a black robe, stitched with faded red silk embroidery. This robe, worn since he was found, seemed to fit his body—too perfectly for clothes made for a baby, an oddity that the villagers never paid attention to. The robe was not made of village materials; the fabric felt cool and soft, barely absorbing dirt or water.
Currently, his face was slightly dirty due to mud splashing up as he practiced the shadow hunter movement, but that did not diminish the uniqueness of his eyes. His pupils were sapphire blue, a color never seen by the average brown-eyed inhabitants of Star Village. Those eyes seemed to gaze at the stars, even in the middle of the day, emitting a distant depth, as if his soul held the dreams of grasping the stars—an irony, since he was only a mortal youth who had to struggle to live.
Zhi Xuan trained diligently, but his movements were often impulsive. When everyone was focused on the basic stance, he would often try to rotate his ankle a little further, attempting to find an extreme balance not taught by Wu Quezi, due to his immense curiosity about the limits of his own body.
"Zhi Xuan!" Wu Quezi reprimanded. Zhi Xuan immediately stopped his experiment and returned to the basic position. "Sorry, Grandfather Wu! I was just trying—"
"Trying what? Trying to break your own ankle?" Wu Quezi cut in, though his tone was more worried than angry. He walked closer to Zhi Xuan, holding his shoulder. "Lad, the foundation is everything. You must solidify your foundation before you can start 'trying' to break limits. We are mortals, Zhi Xuan. Our limits are thin."
Zhi Xuan listened seriously, but his eyes—those sapphire eyes staring at the unseen sky—never lost their trace of longing. He longed for something he didn't even recognize, a hazy, yet so real image. He missed his family.
He missed their faces, their touch, and their stories. He only had the bamboo scroll now held by Wu Quezi, which stated that his parents were mortals and had died. Yet, somehow, whenever he looked at the sky, a deep reluctance arose within him—how could parents who loved him leave him adrift in a basket, even if they were mortals? Who made that mysterious robe?
"Alright, listen to me!" Wu Quezi struck his small staff onto the ground, bringing back the focus of all the youths, including Zhi Xuan who was now absorbing the lesson again. "Final exercise! Today we will focus on your core strength and the mortal wheel!"
All the youths were stunned.
"But, Grandfather Wu! We haven't reached the Divine Wheel realm, have we?" Ming asked in a confused tone.
Wu Quezi smiled mysteriously. "Fools! Every mortal possesses a Human Wheel that does not spin! Our task, as mortals, is to keep that core strong, to keep it pure. If your mortal wheel is strong, you will live longer! You will have more strength. We are not talking about cultivation, but about life!"
"Oh, I see!" Tang exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. "So, if I hit this sack harder, I will live longer to eat more game meat!"
Laughter broke out among the youths. Wu Quezi merely chuckled.
"That's right, Tang! That's the silly incentive you need! Your exercise now is to hit this grain sack with all your strength, imagining all your power spinning from your core and exiting through your fists. This is a mortal exercise to purify the jade essence we absorb from the rivers in Xing Luò through our food. Do it until you are exhausted!"
Zhi Xuan looked down. He observed the red silk on his black robe. He knew that the Human Wheel was a powerful core, and if he could break through that limit, he would gain a spinning Divine Wheel and live up to 200 years—a coveted lifespan.
He took his position. His small fists were aimed at the grain sack, his sapphire blue eyes now not looking at the stars, but at the dust in front of him. Inside him, an immense curiosity began to grow, a reckless inquisitiveness: How strongly can I spin this wheel? How far can I push the limit of a mortal? Zhi Xuan took a deep breath.
"I will be the last one standing today, Ming!" he shouted, his dirty face now showing his characteristic careless grin, and he launched his first punch. Grain dust and sand flew across the Star Village training field. The sun had reached its peak, and the grain sack punching practice had been going on for two hours.
Tang was panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Enough! Grandfather Wu, my lungs are going to explode! I've hit this sack a thousand times!"
"A thousand and one is your limit, Tang! Don't stop at an even number!" Wu Quezi retorted, crossing his arms, showing no mercy.
On the other side, Mingling, who had mocked earlier, now looked pale and leaned against a tree. "I'm not... going to pass out... I'm just... meditating while standing..." he mumbled weakly.
However, Wu Quezi's attention was fixed on Zhi Xuan. Compared to his companions who groaned with every punch, Zhi Xuan hit his grain sack with a strange, almost obsessive, rhythmic motion. He hit, paused briefly, twisted his hips deeper, and hit again. His movements were faster than Tang's, but without Tang's raw power.
What was happening inside Zhi Xuan was far more significant. Every time his fist struck the sack, he imagined energy from his rib area—the location of the Human Wheel—being pushed out. He wasn't just imagining physical strength; he imagined a wheel in his core being forced to spin.
All this time, the energy mortals absorbed from food rich in jade essence from Xing Luò Plain was only stored statically within their bodies, slowly strengthening organs and increasing lifespan. Wu Quezi taught that by punching, they purified this static Jade essence.
"Argh my leg!" Zhi Xuan screamed loudly as the grain sack suddenly fell and hit one of Zhi Xuan's legs, making Zhi Xuan lift his leg and hop around while holding his leg.
The old, heavy grain sack, full of sand and hardened small stones, caused a sharp pain in his shin.
On the other side, Bashan and Mingling, who were previously exhausted—Mingling even nearly passed out by the tree—now laughed heartily at the sight. Their laughter erupted, their drained energy seemingly refilled just by watching Zhi Xuan's misfortune.
"Haha! That's what happens when your Human Wheel gets too excited!" Bashan teased, holding his stomach from the laughter. He got up from the ground, occasionally coughing due to exhaustion.
Mingling laughed even harder, pointing at the grain sack lying like a lifeless monster. "Young Tang is right! Zhi Xuan, that grain sack must have decided to live longer, so it ran away from your punch! What a lazy wheel!"
Wu Quezi, who had witnessed the entire scene from afar, merely shook his head. He did not scold Zhi Xuan for his carelessness, nor did he reprimand the youths' laughter. Heavy training must always be balanced with simple releases of joy. He knew very well that in the cruel Xing Luò Plain, unrestrained laughter was a luxury that must be cherished. He slowly walked toward the fallen grain sack, lifted it easily as if it were just a clump of dry straw, and re-hung it in its original place.
The wrinkles on his face slightly softened at the sight of his students' camaraderie.
"Just childish," Wu Quezi murmured softly, only audible to himself. However, his sharp eyes had caught something. When Zhi Xuan punched just now, there was a strange flicker around his waist, as quick as a blink. A very faint flash, almost like a reflection of light from his black robe, but it made Wu Quezi's heart stir.
Did that boy truly force his Human Wheel to spin, even before he stepped across the mortal limit? Wu Quezi shook his head again, dismissing the thought. It was impossible. No mortal had ever succeeded in doing so without great danger.
"That little one's punch is not strong, but there is a strange frequency in it," Wu Quezi thought to himself, observing a small piece of jade that should have been dust, but somehow looked slightly more luminous among the spilled grain.
"That sapphire-eyed boy is always different. His curiosity is a double-edged sword. He wants to know the mortal limit, but he doesn't know that the mortal limit will be destroyed if he goes any further. Hopefully, he doesn't awaken the divine wheel in the wrong place. It is not the task of a mortal to try to become a cultivator in this cruel place."
He then looked at the backs of the youths who were beginning to walk away from the field. They looked tired, but satisfied. The daily training was the source of their strength and longevity, the mortal way to defy the cruelty of nature. A strong mortal wheel meant a guaranteed life.
Zhi Xuan snorted softly, dropping himself onto a pile of straw. His breath was ragged. Simultaneously, Tang and another youth named Zhuwei walked toward him and threw a drinking gourd to Zhi Xuan. The morning still looked bright and the sun was beginning to fully illuminate Star Village, penetrating the gaps in the forest canopy.
"Take this, you foolish boy," Tang said, bending down slightly. "If you can't defeat that grain sack, at least don't let it defeat you."
Zhi Xuan caught the gourd, wiping the mud from his nose. "I didn't lose! I was just exploring the inertia power of the sack!"
Zhuwei, a quiet youth with jet-black hair, interjected, "Exploring? You almost cried because your leg was bumped. Never mind, drink your water. We don't have much time. Remember?"
Tang kicked Zhi Xuan's shoe lightly. "Zhuwei is right, little brat. The task of herding the goats to the southern outskirts pasture is yours and Mingling's today. You don't want Grandfather Wu to pull your ear, do you?"
Zhi Xuan winced. He gulped down the water from the gourd quickly, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ah, right! The goats! Has Mingling already left?"
"Not yet. He's still trying to convince himself that he's meditating under the tree," Zhuwei replied flatly, pointing to Mingling who was now curled up in the shadow. "Hurry up! The pasture is far. And you know, if you're an hour late, you won't get a spot by the river to water the goats. And don't you dare forget the count of the goats again like last week! That made the Village Head angry."
"Alright! Alright! I'm going!" Zhi Xuan jumped up, his leg still slightly hurting, but his adrenaline overcame the pain. He threw his empty gourd back to Tang, and ran toward where Mingling was.