Chapter One: Dust Settles, the Galaxy Awakens
The afterglow of sunset gradually faded beyond the horizon, and a gentle breeze whispered over the dense, blinding mist between the mountains, enveloping the deep valleys in a shroud of serenity. But this mist was no ordinary water vapor— it shimmered with a strange, eerie green glow: the "Devouring Spirit Fog." Whenever the wind brushed past, faint ancient runes would flicker in and out within the fog, as if the stars themselves had woven cryptic symbols into the very air.
A bronze bell hung at the corner of a bamboo pavilion, swaying faintly in the wind, emitting a metallic "ting—swish—" sound that resonated like celestial chimes. Three silvery "Sky-Gazing Sparrows," with feathers gleaming like molten silver, darted from the shadows, their wings scattering phosphorescent dust—tracing brief, flickering star maps in the air.
Amidst this quiet wonder sat a venerable old man. He quietly lounged in the pavilion beside the mountain gate, his thin, withered fingers gently rubbing a plain white porcelain cup. Inside the cup, sealed beneath the ancient "Day-Variated Celestial Eye" glaze, rested a nebula of cosmos—an echo of bygone stars and distant worlds.
As he breathed in rhythm, the old sage's pupils flickered and flared—an ominous sign. His right eye now shimmered with an unnatural silvery-gray hue—an aftermath of forcibly projecting and deciphering the heavens' secrets. When he lifted his hand to pour tea, the porcelain cup cracked suddenly, spider-webbing amid the silent night. The tea inside seeped out, transforming into a strange, rust-colored liquid that gleamed with a metallic sheen, then settled into the ground, forming two characters: "Guì-Yǒu" (癸酉)—the year of celestial anomaly.
His sleeve slipped back, revealing a band etched with "Soul Locking Runes"—seven dark green chains inked on his wrist. Five of them had already fractured, shimmering with fading light, leaving only two that slowly dissolved at an unnerving pace. Time had carved deep lines into his face—yet his expression remained calm, serene as an ancient well, free from sorrow or joy. In youth, he was brilliant and ambitious, yearning tirelessly for fame and power. Now, after countless years washing away worldly splendour, only tranquillity remained.
In the backdrop of the ancient Jing-Shi Calendar—the year "Xìn Níng" (熙宁 1010), the northern provinces of the mighty Song Empire had long been under reform, yet the sage felt his time waning. He tendered his resignation, a sense of age weighing down his limbs. That same year, he moved from Gongcheng County to Luoyang, taking refuge alongside former chancellors Fu Bì and Sima Guang, often wandering amidst the city's quiet streets and ancient relics.
Eagerly, that scholar read every book on his shelves—cold winter nights without heating, hot summer days without fans, nights spent studying till dawn for years on end. Often, he would sigh: "Ancient sages yet to venture beyond the old boundaries; and I, how far have I come?"
At sixty, he crossed the Yellow and Fen Rivers, delved into the ruins of the Zhou Dynasty in Qi, Lu, Song, and Zheng, travelling for five long years, broadening his horizons and contemplating the universe. When he finally returned, everything seemed familiar yet distant, as if the beginning of his journey was unfolding anew.
He declared, "The Way is here!" That marked the last time he set foot abroad; his restless wanderings ended, and with it, faded the ambitions to explore beyond.
On the fifth day of the seventh month of "Xìn Níng" (熙宁 1077)—the year of "Guì-Yǒu" (癸酉)—a sudden, strange omen appeared. Dark clouds roared silently in the sky, a thunderous tremor shook the earth, and the spiritual energy shifted in an instant, signalling a grand celestial rotation, a call from the ancient heavens.
A profound, unseen force was slowly pulling the sage's flesh into a mysterious space. Cloudy mists gathered and swirled within that space, hiding labyrinthine patterns of ancient symbols—secrets long concealed in the dust of ages.
The sky darkened further; the air rippled with a crackling, tearing sound like a cosmos unravelling. The invisible power drew Yuan Shen—his vital soul—into a strange, otherworldly dimension concealed beyond space itself. Thick mist billowed, swirling with hidden celestial runes, ancient and cryptic