Blood and Destiny Threads

Li Shenqing had always been the forsaken one. Born without knowledge of his true parents, he entered the world as nothing more than an unwanted shadow. His existence was the product of betrayal—conceived through infidelity, discarded through neglect. Left to die at birth, he might have perished had it not been for the wandering Master of the Caiyi Temple, who found the starving infant at death’s door and carried him into the temple’s fold. Under the temple’s austere halls, Li Shenqing was granted food, shelter, and the chance to step upon the immortal path of cultivation. Yet the boy soon learned that this world was not ruled by effort alone—it was bound by two cruel laws: lineage and Destiny Threads. The first dictated one’s bloodline; a child born of noble heritage was already half a step into heaven, while those of uncertain origin were condemned to scrape at the earth. The second, even more merciless, was the mysterious Destiny Threads—ethereal strands woven by the Heavens themselves, linking cultivators to their fated Dao companions, their destined partners, their so-called soulmates. These threads determined not only love, but also fortune, power, and balance. To be without one was to be branded incomplete. Li Shenqing cultivated diligently. His blade was sharp, his spirit unwavering, his Dao heart unshaken. He could rival geniuses of ancient sects, yet when the threads revealed themselves across the temple’s disciples, he alone stood threadless—unclaimed by fate, unloved by Heaven. The elders whispered. The disciples mocked. The Caiyi Temple, which once nurtured him, cast him out as an omen, a flaw in Heaven’s design. Even the Empress of the Baiyi Xuyang Territories, a sovereign wrapped in countless threads of power and desire, mocked him openly: “A cultivator without destiny is a corpse waiting to rot. Even the heavens themselves refuse you.” But Li Shenqing’s heart did not break. Instead, in the ashes of humiliation, a flame was born. “Why should I kneel to threads?” he declared, his voice resounding against the heavens. “Why should I care for destiny’s whims? I have myself to live for. My heart is my own. My Dao is my own. If the heavens deny me, then I shall carve my path beneath their gaze!” What began as defiance became his creed. He walked the world untethered, laughing where others wept, living where others clung to fated illusions. A free soul amidst chains of destiny. Yet freedom was never so simple. The world of threads twisted around him like venomous serpents. Lovers tore each other apart in the name of fate. Families drowned in rivers of blood to secure destined bonds. And the so-called heavenly balance that the threads maintained began to crumble—shattered by Li Shenqing’s very existence. What was once a carefree path of rebellion became a death game of false destinies, blood-soaked unions, and threads manipulated by those who sought to play Heaven itself. As the chaos of fate descended, balance and love were no longer blessings but mockeries. And at the heart of it all stood Li Shenqing—the threadless one—destined to decide whether the world of cultivation would remain bound by Heaven’s design… or be severed by the blade of a man who owed nothing to destiny.