> [Ding! Congratulations, host! You have spent 100,000 Luck Points in the lottery and obtained a Heavenly-Grade Divine Power — the Wanyuan Ascending Demon Fist! Would you like to learn it now?]
[Remaining Luck Value: 10,000]
"Heavenly-grade divine power?!"
Jiang Wang's eyes widened. Without hesitation, he confirmed the choice to learn it.
The moment he did, an overwhelming tide of knowledge flooded his mind. Golden radiance surged around him like waves of molten sunlight, and his consciousness was engulfed by visions — ancient figures practicing fist techniques that shattered the very air, each strike accompanied by the echo of sacred chants.
A deep, solemn voice resonated in his soul, reciting mantras that etched themselves into his memory like burning script. Jiang Wang watched the phantom masters in awe, his gaze devouring every subtle movement, every breath, every shift of power.
When the last vision faded, he exhaled slowly. The golden light withdrew, leaving his body thrumming with energy. He opened his eyes — and for an instant, a dark, mysterious light flashed within them.
He clenched his fists. Spiritual energy rippled across his palms like liquid flame. Even without consciously trying, he could feel the faint tremor of the world's energy resonating with him.
During that moment of enlightenment, Jiang Wang had crossed an invisible threshold — he had touched upon the first of the six realms of spiritual cultivation, the Xuanling Realm.
"So this is the power of a Heavenly Rank divine art…" he murmured, the corners of his lips curling into a quiet smile. "Just by watching it, I could comprehend so much."
In the entire Jiang Clan, there were only two heavenly-grade divine arts — one passed down through their ancestral line, the other left behind by his mother, Chu Yunwan. His cultivation had not yet reached the level required to practice either.
He had initially intended to imprint this new art, the Wanyuan Ascending Demon Fist, into the clan's secret archives. But when he tried, a strange restriction stopped him — it could only be transmitted once he had mastered it to perfection.
With a faint sigh, Jiang Wang let it go. For now.
Even so, just comprehending a Heavenly-grade art to this extent already revealed his terrifying talent.
Then, his gaze fell to the corner of his status panel — only 10,000 Luck Points remained.
He frowned slightly.
"Looks like I'll have to draw more out of Ye Fan," he muttered.
A memory stirred. In his previous life, around this exact time, Ye Fan had discovered a Mysterious Flame Dao Fruit. By refining it together with the Nine Yang Mysterious Grass, he forged the legendary Nine Flame Mysterious Body. From that day forward, Ye Fan could channel the Immortal Bone's power freely.
But what if Jiang Wang took that Dao Fruit first?
His eyes gleamed. "If I seize the Xuanyan Dao Fruit before him… that'll be another wave of luck for me."
Resolved, he called for a fairy servant and whispered instructions. The servant bowed respectfully before retreating. Only then did Jiang Wang allow himself a satisfied breath.
Meanwhile, in another courtyard—
Ye Fan sat in silence, his face pale. When Li Qingxuan told him that she hadn't brought the Immortal Bone or the precious medicine, disappointment flashed across his eyes before he could hide it.
That brief moment was enough to twist Li Qingxuan's heart with guilt.
"Brother Ye Fan, I…" she began softly.
Ye Fan forced a gentle smile. "Sister Qingxuan, it's not your fault. Please, let me rest for a while."
She hesitated, but eventually nodded. "Alright. Don't overthink."
When the door clicked shut behind her, the smile on Ye Fan's face collapsed into a snarl.
"Jiang Wang…" His voice was cold enough to freeze blood. "The hatred of digging out bones can never be forgiven. One day, I'll make you feel the pain of having your bones torn out — and your heart ripped apart!"
His rage simmered in the silence. Then—
A faint gray light pulsed from the old necklace around his neck.
Ye Fan stiffened.
Before he could react, an aged voice echoed directly in his mind.
> "Tch. The standards for choosing a master have fallen so low? This time the Soul-Binding Necklace picked such a weakling?"
Ye Fan's breath caught. "Who's there?!"
The voice chuckled dryly. "Don't panic, boy. I am the Xuanming Supreme. My body perished long ago. My soul has slept within this necklace for a thousand years."
Ye Fan stared down at the ancient pendant in disbelief. "You're… sealed inside this?"
"Indeed," the old man said. "It was your blood that awakened me."
At that, Ye Fan remembered the day his immortal bone was torn out — the endless blood, the agony. That must have been when his blood seeped into the necklace.
"Since fate has awakened me, it seems you and I are bound together," Xuanming continued. "I cannot promise much, but I can help you ascend to supremacy."
"Supremacy?" Ye Fan's voice trembled. For a moment, hope flared in his chest — only to die just as quickly. "Senior, please don't mock me. My immortal bone was dug out. I'm a cripple now."
"Hmph." The old man's tone sharpened. "How did you suffer such a wound?"
Ye Fan's lips twisted. "What else? My Innate Supreme Immortal Bone was stolen."
"What?!"
Even in the mental space, the air seemed to tremble with the Supreme's fury.
The Innate Supreme Immortal Bone — a gift from the Great Dao itself, the mark of a heaven-favored child! To lose it was to defy the Dao and be cursed by it. No wonder Ye Fan's body was on the verge of collapse.
Yet, instead of pity, Xuanming Supreme laughed — delighted.
"Hah! The Soul-Binding Necklace never chooses ordinary mortals!"
Ye Fan's expression darkened. "What's there to be happy about? Even if I once had immortal bones, they're gone now. I'm nothing but a waste."
"Foolish boy," the Supreme chided. "Your knowledge is shallow. Though your injury is severe, it's not irrevocable. I may be only a remnant soul, but I was once a Supreme Being. I know how to mend even wounds of the Dao."
Ye Fan's eyes lit up like dying embers rekindled. "Senior, please… teach me!"
From within the necklace, the old spirit stroked his phantom beard, his voice slow and measured.
"The Immortal Realm is vast — eight continents beneath heaven and earth. A thousand years ago, in Xuanzhou, I discovered a Xuanyan Dao Tree. It bears fruit once every millennium. That fruit can heal Dao injuries and restore crippled constitutions."
His tone deepened. "If my calculations are right, the Xuanyan Dao Fruit will ripen in just over a month."
Ye Fan's breath quickened. "You mean… I can recover?"
"If you obtain the fruit, yes. You could not only heal, but surpass your former limits. And when that day comes…" The old voice grew colder. "You will make those who stole your bones beg for mercy."
Excitement burned in Ye Fan's chest — but caution quickly followed. "Senior, why tell me this? Surely there's a price."
Xuanming Supreme chuckled. "Clever boy. I do have one request."
"Speak."
"When you achieve supremacy, you will help me rebuild my body. My enemies still live, and my vengeance is not yet complete."
Ye Fan hesitated. Rebuilding the body of a Supreme? That was no small favor. And if his enemies had survived a thousand years, they were likely beings far beyond imagination.
Still — what choice did he have?
"Alright," he said finally, voice firm. "I promise."
"Hahaha! Good! Sensible boy!"
The laughter of the Xuanming Supreme echoed in his mind like rolling thunder.
"For now," the old spirit said, "rest. Let the medicinal power in your body do its work. In ten days, when your strength returns, we set out for Xuanzhou — and the Xuanyan Dao Fruit will be ours."
Ye Fan's fingers brushed the glowing necklace. His heart pounded with new determination.
"Jiang Wang…" he whispered through clenched teeth. "Enjoy your peace while you can."