Despite everything, Feng Qi no longer cared about those people. What he wanted was to find an opportunity to speak with Li Yuhuan—he needed to know what was truly going on.
As a member of the family, he could enter the manor, but he preferred to avoid trouble. His grandfather was not someone willing to help him. In Feng Shidao's eyes, Feng Qi was nothing more than a stranger—the son of a poor woman who had brought about his son's death.
Feng Qi was restless. He kept casting glances toward the entrance of the manor, hoping Li Yuhuan would come out. His heart tightened when he saw her riding in the same carriage as his detestable cousin; the feeling that surged in his chest was unbearable.
"Hey, man!"
Suddenly, the other servants approached him, calling him over to distract him. In an hour, a grand banquet would be held at the manor, and everyone in the village would be invited. That made Feng Qi pause. He had no decent clothes for such an event. There had never been a celebration or occasion in his life that required proper attire. This is a problem, he thought.
Money was scarce, and to buy anything suitable he would have to dig into his pockets. Feng Qi asked his coworkers for a loan, but none of them had any money. Left with no choice, he realized he would have to speak with his uncle.
About ten minutes later, Feng Qi finally gathered the courage to enter the manor's courtyard, carefully avoiding any unwanted encounters. The courtyard was immense, with many pavilions and towers arranged in a deliberate layout. Near the main manor stood a pagoda—this was where books, basic techniques, and various kinds of knowledge and inventions were stored. It was also Feng Zongyuan's workplace.
Feng Qi searched for Zongyuan but found him nowhere. It was obvious—his father and countless guests were at his home today; there was no time for work.
"Damn it!"
Suddenly, Feng Qi sensed a sweet, nostalgic fragrance, and then—
"What a surprise, seeing you here."
Feng Qi nearly fell over. When he turned around, his eyes filled with tears.
"Yuhuan?"
The young woman before him wore a faint smile as she looked him up and down. From her gaze, it was clear she disapproved of his appearance and worn clothes.
"So things have really come to this, haven't they?"
Li Yuhuan asked, pity evident in her eyes. She looked at the young man before her and recalled the days when they made promises of love together. The memory felt nostalgic—but it was already too late. The world had changed; things were no longer the same. She closed her eyes and turned her back to Feng Qi.
"What do you want here?" she asked.
"W-What do I want?! Are you serious?"
Li Yuhuan knew exactly what he meant. A sorrowful look appeared on her face. Suddenly, she stopped and turned back to face him. The faint smile faded, and she spoke calmly:
"The world has changed, Qi—no, Feng Qi. People don't remain the same forever. Naturally, I met Feng Chen Haoran, your cousin, and I fell deeply in love with him… There can no longer be anything between us."
Li Yuhuan was decisive and precise. She spoke without hesitation. She had accepted this many years ago, and judging by Feng Qi's situation, continuing this relationship would be nearly impossible—even if they still loved each other.
Feng Qi was stunned. Tears still welled in his eyes as he stared at her in disbelief, refusing to accept it.
"Feng Qi?"
In the past, before everything went wrong, their bond had been so close that they called each other only by name. Being addressed now with such distance made his head droop. He knew it was truly over.
"Why?"
"Hm?"
"Why… did you change so suddenly? So fast? I thought you loved me."
Li Yuhuan's heart grew heavy. Her gaze drifted away as countless thoughts raced through her mind.
"I… truly loved you… but that is already in the past. We should walk separate paths now."
She paused, speaking without looking at him.
"I-I want to understand, Yuhuan, I—"
Suddenly, Li Yuhuan cut him off.
"That's enough! Don't call me Yuhuan anymore. From now on, to you, I am Li Yuhuan. Remember my status—my Li Clan will not let you off so easily!"
Feng Qi was shaken by her reaction. He took three steps back and stared at her for a long moment. Tears now streamed slowly down his face.
"Have you forgotten that I'm now engaged to your cousin? You should at least have some shame."
On the other side, the young woman looked conflicted—downcast, yet resolute.
"Look at you… you've lost everything—your wealth, your family, and not even your own clan supports you… all because of that woman. A-and I… I wanted to, b-but…"
Suddenly, Li Yuhuan could no longer hold back her tears. She hid her face, but Feng Qi noticed and tried to approach her. She pushed him away.
They stood in silence for a while, until Li Yuhuan finally spoke again.
"You… don't even have the right to demand this."
Her voice trembled.
"You have nothing—no cultivation, no talent. My family, my clan, and yours will never allow it. The time we spent apart should have naturally separated us already."
Feng Qi could only stare at her, eyes glassy as tears poured endlessly down his face. He knew all of this. He agreed—but love was different. If they fought together…
For a time, he had believed that.
"Go… go live your life. Do whatever you think is best… it has nothing to do with me anymore."
Li Yuhuan left immediately, holding back her tears, biting her lips so they would not spill. At the same time, she desperately wiped her face, afraid someone might see.
As for Feng Qi, he remained standing there, head lowered, still crying. His lips were marked with blood from how often he had bitten them, blaming himself all the while.
Leaving that place, Feng Qi only wanted to go away—to become a cultivator, a renegade, and disappear. He did not want to remember this place or what he had lived through. He wanted to forget.
At home, he collapsed onto his old mattress and looked around, recalling Li Yuhuan's words: you have nothing. Once again, he broke down in tears. He buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Feng Qi felt ashamed, humiliated, and abandoned.
"I have nothing! Nothing!"
he suddenly shouted as tears continued to fall.
No one would come to help him. No one was interested in lending a hand. When his mother died, was there a funeral? Companionship? If the servants had not acted out of basic morality, he would have buried his mother alone, without even a coffin. Who among them had been there to support him? They abandoned him when he needed them most—no, they had never been there for him, not even when his father was alive. His mother… such a miserable funeral, such a miserable end.
"I was the only one there! In that godforsaken place, I was the only one! Those families, that cursed clan! Cursed! All of them! They must fall—they need to fall! I can't take this anymore, I've had enough!"
Then, as if waking from a nightmare, Feng Qi realized he was drenched in sweat. The mattress and cloth felt as if they had been thrown into a river. Yet something was different—his heart was racing, his body burning as if it were about to evaporate, and a blazing flame in his chest seemed to guide him somewhere. He stood up, grabbed the three books, and ran toward the hill he often visited.
It was already night, but he didn't care. He had prepared a torch for this moment. No matter what, he needed to comprehend the methods and reach Body Refinement. What used to take him an hour now took only thirty minutes. His body was visibly exhausted, but his heart kept him standing.
Feng Qi quickly reread everything he had learned from the manuals. He needed to interpret them differently. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled and exhaled, again and again, continuing for hours.
He felt nothing.
Nothing happened.
Yet this did not discourage him in the slightest. He continued relentlessly—his destiny, his future depended on this.
Then, Feng Qi noticed a glow below. It was strange—there was no moonlight tonight. He stood there, watching it carefully.
"It looks like it's in the lake… what could it be?"
Suddenly, the phrase Fortuitous Encounter crossed his mind. Feng Qi's body trembled, hope surging within him. Standing up quickly, he stared at the glow again. It was as if something were calling to him.
He descended the hill carefully. The terrain was dangerous, with a steep drop. The light from his torch was weak, and a single misstep could send him falling to his death.
After nearly forty minutes, Feng Qi finally reached the small lake. He had never been here before, and it seemed no one had visited it in years. The presence of many small animals was proof of that.
Approaching the lake, Feng Qi saw nothing. Perhaps it was just an illusion—or maybe fireflies. That was to be expected, he confirmed. Just as he turned to leave, something flashed again in his direction.
"Wait! Is there really something here?"
Looking more closely, Feng Qi realized the glow came from deep within the lake. Even so, he could make out the silhouette of something.
"That… looks like armor."
Feng Qi's heart filled with joy. If this truly was an artifact, then this was the fortuitous encounter he had long awaited. He immediately began to descend.
However, there was a problem—it was too deep. The object lay nearly twenty meters below the surface.
"Damn it, what do I do now?"
Feng Qi pondered for a while. He had no ability to dive that deep. The pressure alone would drown him in moments—death was certain. The only way to retrieve it would be to involve the village and devise a plan, perhaps using a long pole. But then the artifact would inevitably fall into Feng Shidao's hands. Rather than letting that happen, Feng Qi would rather let it rot at the bottom of the lake.
Still, his desire to know what it was—and whether it could help him—was far too strong to ignore. He concluded that the only way was to dive down himself. He jumped into the lake. Underwater, the glow appeared even brighter, confirming that it was indeed an object. He swam and swam, but at seven meters, he could no longer endure. His breath ran out, and he surfaced, nearly drowning in the process.
"Urgh… damn it."
His clothes were heavy. Feng Qi took them off. He had not given up—he would rather die trying than live as a farmer's servant.
He jumped in again, this time wearing only light linen trousers. With every stroke, his body felt heavier. Yet the fire in his chest still burned fiercely. He needed a way to cultivate, to increase his talent, so that one day he could become unmatched.
"Let this be a fortuitous encounter! Let it be! Please, heavens."
At twelve meters deep, he could see it more clearly. It truly was armor—but a strange one. It emitted a jade-colored glow and seemed to be calling to him. The armor pulsed with light, radiating immense brilliance, resting atop a smooth stone like an altar.
Feng Qi was overjoyed—but his breath ran out. He hurried back up, swallowing water along the way.
"Cough! Cough! Cough! … Argh!"
Slowly, he dragged himself to the shallow edge of the lake and lay on his back.
"I can't… but I was close. Damn it—why did I never train my breath? It could have been useful now. That armor… it must be a mystical artifact, I'm sure of it—or something close to that. Heh…"
Exhausted but not discouraged, Feng Qi stared at the dark sky. The moon was rising, its glow visible on the horizon. He rested for a few minutes, then steeled himself for a life-or-death gamble.
"To hell with it! I'd rather die trying than live my whole life as a servant! Either this changes my life, or I die for good… Either way, my life doesn't matter anymore. I've lost everything… everything I had."
This time, Feng Qi's eyes were calm. He didn't want to die before reaching the armor, so he devised a plan. It took over an hour to prepare everything. In the end, he even had to return home to fetch a rope. At the lake, he found a stone about fifty centimeters wide and pushed it to the edge of the embankment closest to the lake's center. He tied it firmly, secured it to himself, and from the top of the embankment, pushed the stone and fell into the water.
Naturally, he wrapped his remaining cloth around himself to cushion the fall. It was extremely dangerous—the height exceeded fifteen meters. It was practically suicide.
The moment he hit the water, pain exploded throughout his body. Gritting his teeth, he pulled away the cloth and let it go. His will was unwavering—this was his last chance. Before the stone hit the bottom, Feng Qi drew a small knife from its sheath and cut the rope, swimming toward the armor with all he had. His breath was nearly gone.
Despite reaching the bottom, he was still far from it. Dizzy from the impact, starved of air, crushed by the pressure, his life flashed before his eyes. In that moment, Feng Qi accepted death, flailing his arms blindly toward the armor.
When he touched it, something miraculous happened.
Just before he lost consciousness, the Jade Armor rapidly enveloped his entire body, as if it possessed a will of its own. Feng Qi struggled in shock—but then everything went dark.
His heart beat furiously, pumping blood and energy through his body. Then, in the blink of an eye, it stopped.
And thus, Feng Qi was—definitively—dead.