Three years. For three years, Lu Feng had been the shadow in the corner of the Ye family’s eye. A dog they didn’t bother to kick anymore. He swept the courtyard, his movements slow and methodical, his head bowed. The dust rose and fell, just like the insults that flew past his ears. “Look at him. The trash with crippled meridians.” “To think he was once engaged to our Young Miss. What a joke.” “He’s lucky the Master had pity and let him repay his debt with labor. Anyone else would have left him to die in that ditch.” Lu Feng’s expression did not change. His face, lean and perpetually stoic, was a mask of indifference. His meridians were not crippled; they were sealed. His Inner Qi was not absent; it was a sleeping ocean, chained behind a dam of jade. He owed the Ye family a life debt. Today, that debt would be paid in full. Banners of crimson and gold fluttered from the eaves of the main hall. Esteemed guests from various Martial Sects milled about, their laughter loud and arrogant. Today was the engagement of the Ye family’s jewel, Ye Yao, to the prodigious heir of the Hua Shan Sect. It was a grand affair, designed to cement the Ye family’s rising status. And it was designed to be his final humiliation. “Lu Feng!” The voice was sharp as splintered ice. Ye Yao stood on the steps of the main hall, a vision in embroidered silks. Beside her, preening in white robes, was the Young Master of Hua Shan. His face was a canvas of smug superiority, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. The Ye Family Master, a man with a wispy beard and shrewd eyes, stood behind them, smiling. Lu Feng stopped sweeping. He did not lift his head. He simply waited. “Come here,” Ye Yao commanded, her voice ringing with impatience. The crowd of guests turned, their eyes filled with scorn and amusement. This was part of the show. He walked forward, his cloth shoes making no sound on the stone tiles. He stopped a respectful ten paces from her. “Closer, dog,” sneered the Young Master of Hua Shan. “Are you afraid your stench will offend the Young Miss?” Lu Feng took two more steps. He finally raised his eyes. They were deep, empty pools, holding no anger, no shame, only a profound and chilling stillness. For a fleeting second, Ye Yao felt a shiver trace its way down her spine. The feeling vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a surge of irritation. Why didn't he grovel? Why didn't he weep? Why wouldn't he show the pathetic despair she craved to see? “Three years ago, my father found you dying and saved your worthless life,” she began, her voice projecting for all to hear. “Out of a foolish sense of honor, he respected the engagement contract our grandfathers made when we were children. For three years, our Ye family has fed you, clothed you, and tolerated your useless presence.” She held up a piece of yellowed paper. The engagement contract. The crowd murmured, their gazes a mixture of pity and contempt for the boy in servant’s robes. “But a phoenix cannot be shackled to a worm,” she declared. Her eyes flashed to the Young Master of Hua Shan, full of adoration. “My husband will be a true dragon among men, a future Grandmaster whose true essence shakes the martial world. Not… trash whose meridians can’t even hold a wisp of Inner Qi.” *Rip.* The sound was brutally final. She tore the contract in half, then again, and again. She stepped forward and threw the shredded pieces into Lu Feng’s face. “We are finished,” she spat. “You are nothing to me. You are nothing to the Ye family. The debt is cleared. Now get out of my sight.” The scraps of paper fluttered down around him, clinging to his plain clothes like snowflakes of shame. He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. The Young Master of Hua Shan stepped forward, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “Not so fast. An auspicious day like this requires a proper conclusion. Kneel,” he commanded, his voice laced with the arrogance of his station. “Kneel and congratulate Lady Ye on her wise decision. Kowtow three times, and I may convince the Ye family to give you some silver for the road.” He released a sliver of his Inner Qi, a wave of pressure that washed over Lu Feng. It was the power of a mid-tier martial artist, enough to make a normal servant collapse, his bones creaking in submission. The guests nodded in approval. The trash should know his place. But Lu Feng did not move. The pressure, to him, was less than a summer breeze. His sealed power was a mountain; this was a pebble thrown against it. He simply looked past the fuming Young Master, his gaze settling on the Ye Family Master. “The three years are up,” Lu Feng said. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, yet it cut through the courtyard’s chatter, silencing everyone. “The debt is paid.” That was all. He turned, his back straight. He did not look at the confetti of their broken promise on the ground. He did not look at the stunned face of Ye Yao or the reddening fury of her new fiancé. “Insolent cur!” the Young Master of Hua Shan roared, his pride wounded. “You dare defy me? I’ll cripple you for real!” He lunged, his hand shaped like a claw, aiming for Lu Feng’s shoulder. A faint shimmer of sword-qi coated his fingertips. He was a genius of the Hua Shan Sect, after all. He never reached him. Lu Feng didn’t turn around. He didn’t even break stride. But a wave of invisible force, a mere flicker of will from the sleeping giant within, emanated from him. It wasn't Inner Qi. It was something far older, far more terrifying. It was pure, unadulterated killing intent. The Young Master of Hua Shan froze mid-lunge, his face draining of all color. His heart hammered against his ribs. His martial instincts screamed at him, a primal terror he had never known. It felt like ten thousand divine swords were pressed against his throat, his soul, his very existence. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He could only watch as the servant’s back grew smaller, step by steady step. By the time Lu Feng reached the courtyard gate, the Young Master collapsed, gasping on the ground, his fine robes soaked in a cold sweat. The entire courtyard was dead silent. What had just happened? Who was this boy? Ye Yao stared, her mind a blank. The image of Lu Feng’s cold, empty eyes was suddenly burned into her memory. Lu Feng silently gathered his things—a single spare set of clothes in a small cloth bundle. He walked out the gate without a single backward glance. The sounds of the now-faltering celebration faded behind him. He walked the path towards the edge of the Whispering Bamboo Forest, his steps unhurried. He stopped as the first trees cast their long shadows over him. For the first time in three years, a flicker of emotion crossed his face. It was the cold light of a star being born in a dead galaxy. He reached up to his neck, his fingers closing around a simple, unadorned piece of jade hanging from a leather cord. A sealing jade. A cage. He clenched his fist. *Crack.* The jade shattered into dust, carried away by the wind. Lu Feng silently gathers his things and walks out the gate. At the edge of the forest he snaps the sealing jade on his neck. His meridians roar clear; every sword within ten li trembles violently in its sheath. Ten Elders of the Dragon God Hall drop to their knees before him: 'We respectfully welcome the Hall Lord back to Jianghu!'

Chapter 1: The Shattered Engagement