Chapter 1: The Broken Meridian and the Ancient Spirit
The training ground of the Azure Cloud Sect reeked of sweat and iron. Lin Yue knelt on the stone floor, his ribs throbbing from the kick that had sent him flying. Above him, Zhang Hao—son of the sect’s elder—twirled a wooden saber, a sneer twisting his lips.
“Pathetic,” Zhang Hao spat, pressing the saber’s hilt against Lin Yue’s forehead. “A so-called ‘inner disciple’ with meridians so broken you can’t even channel qi? No wonder your father abandoned you—who’d want a waste like you?”
Laughter erupted from the onlookers. Lin Yue’s hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms until blood seeped out. It had been three years since his father, a once-revered elder, had vanished after being accused of stealing the sect’s sacred artifact. Overnight, Lin Yue had gone from a promising prodigy to a pariah—his meridians sabotaged by an unknown poison, his cultivation stuck at the lowest Qi Refining Stage.
As Zhang Hao raised the saber to strike, a searing pain exploded in Lin Yue’s chest. He gasped, his vision blurring, and for a heartbeat, he saw it: a faint blue light glowing in his dantian, like a tiny star trapped in darkness. Then a voice—deep, ancient, like the rumble of a mountain—echoed in his mind:
“Brat… can you hear me?”
Lin Yue’s consciousness faded. When he woke, the training ground was empty, save for the crescent moon hanging low in the sky. He pushed himself up, wincing at his bruises—and froze. The pain in his chest was gone, replaced by a warm, throbbing energy. And in his mind, the blue light had taken form: a translucent figure of an old man with a long white beard, clad in robes embroidered with azure dragons.
“I am Long Xuan,” the old man said, floating before Lin Yue. “Once the guardian of the Azure Dragon Codex, until I was betrayed by my own disciples. My soul has been trapped in this jade pendant”—Lin Yue’s hand flew to his neck, where a pendant his father had given him now glowed faintly—“waiting for someone worthy to inherit my legacy.”
Lin Yue’s breath caught. “My meridians… they’re broken. I can’t cultivate.”
“Nonsense,” Long Xuan snorted. “That poison didn’t ‘break’ your meridians—it locked them. The Azure Dragon Codex doesn’t rely on ordinary qi flow. It uses dragon qi, drawn from the heavens and earth, to rebuild and strengthen your meridians. With this, you’ll not only recover—you’ll surpass every so-called genius in this sect.”
A flood of information surged into Lin Yue’s mind: diagrams of meridians, incantations for channeling dragon qi, and techniques so powerful they made the sect’s top martial arts look like child’s play. He closed his eyes, following the first instruction in the codex, and felt a cool, powerful energy flow into his dantian. For the first time in three years, he could sense qi—not the weak, erratic kind he’d struggled with, but a roar of dragon qi, ready to burst forth.
When he opened his eyes, his fists were glowing with a faint blue light. He stood, testing his strength with a punch. The air cracked, and a small crater appeared in the stone floor.
Long Xuan’s laughter rumbled. “Good. But beware—once you start cultivating the codex, you’ll draw attention. Zhang Hao and his father won’t let you rise. And the one who poisoned you? They’re still in the sect, waiting to finish what they started.”
Lin Yue’s eyes hardened. He’d spent three years being humiliated, three years wondering if his father was alive or dead. Now, with the Azure Dragon Codex, he had a chance to take back what was his—to clear his father’s name, and to make those who’d wronged him pay.
“I’m ready,” he said.