The sun was bright on the day the Sky Marshal Manor sent an expert to the Sun and Moon Pavilion to help Zhao Feng with his Foundation Establishment. She was a short, stout middle-aged woman with dark skin, incongruously dressed in a flowing blue robe. Her name was Lin Haixia, a name more suited to a young girl. Zhao Feng soon took to calling her Uncle Lin. Arriving with Lin Haixia was a little girl, about the same age as Zhao Feng, though two months his junior. She was, they said, the orphan of one of the Marquis of Jianhong’s comrades-in-arms, a man who had fallen on the distant Beiyan Demonic Wastes battlefield. Before her father met his end, he entrusted his young daughter to the Marquis. The two men had even arranged an infant betrothal before the man’s death. Zhao Feng was left speechless by this sudden engagement. Fight your battles, die on some distant field for all I care, he fumed internally. But for a matter this momentous, did anyone think to ask my opinion? Despite his irritation, he didn't take his resentment out on the girl herself. And so, another small figure now roamed the vast grounds of the Sun and Moon Pavilion. The little girl’s name was Bian Ruxue. Her features were delicate and exquisite, her skin as fair and smooth as a porcelain doll’s. Timid and shy in this strange new place, she would cling to the sleeve of any servant who would listen, asking, “Where is my daddy? Where did my daddy go?” The little girl was looking for her daddy. But no one in the courtyard dared to give her an answer. The softer-hearted maids could only turn away to a quiet corner and secretly wipe their tears. The girl lost her appetite and grew thinner with each passing day. Seeing that none of the servants knew how to comfort a child, Zhao Feng felt a flash of annoyance. He'd been too self-sufficient, he supposed, and hadn't thought to train them properly. He had no choice but to step in. Using a mixture of coaxing and bluster, he told the little girl: “Your daddy is playing hide-and-seek. He’ll only come out if you behave and eat all your food.” The little girl looked up, her innocent eyes brimming with tears. “Is Xue’er not being good? Why is daddy hiding from Xue’er? Where is he hiding?” Where was he hiding? Looking at her pitiable expression, Zhao Feng found his resolve softening. With a sigh, he fell back on a well-worn cliché, pointing to the sky. “Your daddy is up there, on one of those stars.” From then on, a small figure could be seen in the courtyard every night, gazing up at the heavens. The silver glow of a myriad stars shone down, illuminating her solitary shape. Inside the house, another small figure, hunched over a chessboard, would order the servants to stand by the girl’s side and fan away the mosquitoes, so she wouldn’t be covered in bites. Half a month flew by. The martial expert Lin Haixia had prepared the Foundation Establishment elixir for both Zhao Feng and Bian Ruxue. They would both begin their journey in the same year. Foundation Establishment was the very bedrock of the Martial Arts. The elixir, brewed from countless precious ingredients, was used for a daily medicinal bath, tempering the body and forging it into a vessel fit for martial training. As one of the preeminent families in Xia, the Sky Marshal Manor had resources in abundance. From the moment Zhao Feng’s Foundation Establishment began, a stream of priceless herbs and rare treasures flowed into the Sun and Moon Pavilion as inexhaustibly as winter snow. Foundation Establishment elixirs came in three grades: common, rare, and supreme. The elixir Zhao Feng used was naturally of the highest quality. Brewed with a thousand-year-old treasure as its core and supplemented by a host of other precious ingredients, it was capable of nurturing an Eighth Layer battle physique. A cultivator who started with such a foundation could break through the First Realm in a mere two or three years. The path of Martial Arts was a furnace that burned through money. This top-grade elixir regimen, with its daily consumption, was a costly affair that could last from six months to a year. Only a powerhouse like the Sky Marshal Manor could afford such an expense. Two large medicinal tubs stood in the yard. Zhao Feng and Bian Ruxue soaked in their respective baths. A screen had been erected around the little girl’s tub, where a few female attendants watched over her. These were not simple maids; they had some cultivation themselves and served as trusted aides within the household. On Zhao Feng’s side, Lin Haixia supervised him personally. At that moment, a rich, dark purple elixir lapped against Zhao Feng’s skin. He was submerged up to his chin, with only his nose above the surface to breathe. An acrid, bitter scent, like crushed lotus root, filled his nostrils and kept his senses sharp. Zhao Feng asked, “Can I drink it?” Lin Haixia replied, “Better not.” The elixir was too potent. A child’s digestive system couldn’t handle it; it would do more harm than good. Besides, it was meant for external use. Just as Zhao Feng was focusing his mind, a line of text abruptly materialized before his eyes: [Detecting unknown substance, analyzing…] [Analysis failed, automatically isolated.] Zhao Feng froze. ??? What was happening? Damn it. Was this… what he thought it was? Zhao Feng was filled with doubt. Beside the tub, Lin Haixia’s placid expression was slowly growing grim. As the minutes ticked by, her brow furrowed into a tight knot. Zhao Feng noticed her change in demeanor, and his heart gave an uneasy lurch. “Uncle Lin, is there… a problem?” Lin Haixia wasn't surprised by his perceptiveness. She had discovered over the past few weeks that this young master was far more precocious than his peers, with the intelligence of a child twice his age. Right now, however, she was in no mood to chat. She abruptly swept aside the screen to check on the situation on the other side, returning a moment later with a terrible look on her face. “Uncle Lin?” Lin Haixia reached out, placing a hand on the edge of the tub and concentrating. Her gaze grew complicated as she looked at the child within, and she opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her lips. “Uncle Lin, just say what you need to say,” Zhao Feng prompted. Lin Haixia looked at him in mild surprise. Precocious or not, he was still just a three-year-old. Could he really sense her hesitation? But her mood was so grim she didn't dwell on it. She spoke her mind, regardless of whether he could understand. “Martial arts talent is typically revealed by the bone-measurement at age five, but the first hints of it appear during Foundation Establishment.” “The faster one absorbs the elixir, the greater one’s aptitude. But Young Master, your absorption rate is far too slow!” She looked at Zhao Feng, her eyes a mixture of confusion and pity. Then, she seemed to reconsider, muttering to herself, “Perhaps it was just an accident today. A mistake in my refining process. I’ll be more careful tomorrow.” A chill went down Zhao Feng’s spine. So that system prompt was about the Foundation Establishment elixir? What did she mean, ‘too slow absorption’? The panel was blocking everything. There was nothing to absorb! Zhao Feng was speechless. Was his system going to adhere so rigidly to the game’s original settings? It was a discovery he had made over the past year of exploring the panel. Since the game had lacked a combat system, it seemed he, too, was cut off from the martial path. Or, more accurately, from practicing it. Practicing combat skills yielded no experience; only the artistic pursuits recognized by the game came with an experience bar. While he could still improve through diligent training, he was better off sticking to his arts, where the rewards were tangible. At least there, his experience would soar, he could allocate points, and he could even create his own cultivation techniques. A single night’s progress could surpass decades of arduous training. It was just a shame about all these resources piled around him. Used to their full potential, they could nurture a first-rate martial artist. Speaking of which, if this potent elixir, far beyond anything from his modern world, couldn't be absorbed, then why had the poison worked? Or had it not worked? Had he simply fallen asleep and missed the prompt? Perhaps the true test would be whether or not he eventually awakened the Divine Blood. But that woman had only said there was a chance, not a certainty. Whatever, he thought. It was my own ability that saved me from harm, but that’s a debt I fully intend to collect. “Don’t be discouraged. We’ll try again tomorrow,” Lin Haixia said, offering what reassurance she could, though she doubted Zhao Feng understood. “If it truly doesn’t work, I’ll inform Lord Hou. He will surely find a solution for you.” “There’s no need.” Zhao Feng waved a small hand, preparing to climb out of the tub. Since the panel was blocking the elixir, there was no point in soaking any longer. “Don’t get up yet. Let’s try again. Stay in a little longer,” Lin Haixia said, stopping him. Zhao Feng shook his head. “It’s no use.” “You must obey!” Lin Haixia’s face grew stern; this was a serious matter. Zhao Feng was at a loss. “I’ll go check on the little girl first,” he said finally. He pushed aside the curtain and went to her tub. The elixir she’d been given, identical to his, was now almost as clear as water. The deep purple had faded, with only a few misty wisps of color still drifting within it. “Brother Feng?” Bian Ruxue looked up at him from the tub. Too young to be modest, she just gazed at him with innocent confusion. “Uncle Lin, given the little girl’s absorption speed, how would you rate her talent?” Zhao Feng asked without turning around. Lin Haixia was still feeling dejected and puzzled, but she couldn’t help but chuckle at his question. He and Xue’er were the same age, yet he always acted so serious and grown-up around her. “Her absorption speed is excellent,” Lin Haixia said, her eyes glinting with professional appreciation. She had already checked. “If the Blood Melting at age four goes smoothly, then by the time of her bone-measurement at five, and with the full support of the Sky Marshal Manor’s resources, her warrior physique could very well reach the Eighth Layer. She might even touch the Ninth. That would rank her among the greatest prodigies!” “Ninth Layer?” Zhao Feng asked, confused. Lin Haixia was patient with the young master. Since he had asked, it was her duty as his temporary tutor to answer, whether he understood or not. After listening to her detailed explanation, Zhao Feng finally understood. It turned out that Foundation Establishment, Blood Melting, and bone-measurement corresponded to what was known as the Third, Sixth, and Ninth Layers. Foundation Establishment elixirs were divided into three layers of quality. Blood Melting was divided into six layers of efficacy. And the aptitude revealed by bone-measurement was divided into nine layers. A first- to third-layer physique was considered ordinary, a lower-grade talent. A fourth- to sixth-layer physique was elite, a middle-grade talent. A seventh-layer physique was already worthy of being called a genius. An eighth-layer physique could make a name for themselves across an entire province. And a Ninth Layer physique was the absolute pinnacle of martial constitutions, the domain of peerless prodigies. For someone with such talent, breaking through cultivation realms was as easy as eating and drinking. They were almost guaranteed to reach the Fourth or Third Realm. As for the higher realms, talent had to be paired with other elements: one’s own comprehension, perseverance, destiny, and opportunities. Zhao Feng turned to look at the little girl in the tub, his eyes wide with astonishment. Was this little girl destined to be a talent who would shake the world? He pictured the sniffling girl he knew standing imperiously before a crowd… and couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. Lin Haixia watched him, her eyes filled with worry. He was still a child, after all. He seemed clever, but at only three years old, he didn't yet grasp the gravity of what had happened today. The chance of a problem with the elixir was remote. And that meant… he might be what they called a martial invalid, incapable of cultivation. In this family of warriors, for a son of the Li line, he couldn't begin to imagine a crueler fate.

Chapter 4: The Promise Of The Fallen