Night fell, and the small town of Greenstone was as quiet as always. The autumn wind carried the earthy scent of soil and straw through the narrow alleys, lifting fallen leaves into the air before letting them drift back down.
At the southern corner of town, inside an unremarkable clinic, a lone candle flickered and the fragrance of herbs lingered in the air. Wooden medicine drawers lined the wall, their yellowed labels faded with age.
At the desk sat Lin Xuan, checking the pulse of an elderly man with a chronic cough.
He was barely past twenty, with clear features and a calm temperament. Having studied medicine under his late father since childhood, his skills were far from extraordinary, yet his hands were steady and meticulous. The thin calluses on his palms told of years spent handling herbs and needles.
"Qi stagnation, phlegm accumulation, weakness in the lung meridian," he said in a steady voice, rising to pull herbs from the cabinet and weigh them with practiced ease. The old man thanked him profusely before leaving with his medicine.
As the night deepened and the streets grew empty, Lin Xuan tidied the desk and reached to snuff the candle. Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached, and with a loud bang, the wooden door burst open.
A young man, drenched in blood, stumbled inside and collapsed to the floor.
"Save… me…" he rasped, before falling unconscious.
Startled, Lin Xuan rushed forward. A gruesome wound split the man's chest, glowing faintly as if laced with eerie light. Around his neck hung a jade pendant, now cracked and leaking emerald brilliance.
"This… this isn't ordinary…" Lin Xuan's heart skipped a beat. Though only a mortal, he had grown up hearing countless tales of cultivators. The scene before him matched those legends perfectly.
Pushing his fear aside, he lifted the young man onto a bed, wrapped the wound, and prepared his needles and medicine. Yet the moment his fingers touched the man's wrist, his breath caught.
The pulse roared like thunder—nothing a mortal could ever possess. The meridians surged with violent currents, like raging fire rushing through the body.
"This isn't illness… it's spiritual power!"
At that instant, the jade pendant shattered.
Crack!
A tide of overwhelming spiritual energy burst forth, shaking the medicine cabinet, making the candle gutter wildly, and shattering several jars onto the floor.
Lin Xuan staggered back, chest tightening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something roll from the broken pendant.
It was a dull, cracked black gourd.
Its surface was fractured and dim, as though ready to crumble, yet within the cracks glimmered faint motes of starlight.
Instinctively, Lin Xuan reached for it. The moment his fingers touched the gourd, a thunderous roar exploded in his ears.
Darkness engulfed his sight. He seemed to glimpse a shattered land, mountains collapsing, rivers of blood, countless cultivators locked in battle. Above it all floated the broken gourd, spewing endless light and flame.
BOOM!
The vision vanished. Lin Xuan collapsed to the ground, clutching the gourd tightly.
Before he could catch his breath, a piercing howl split the night.
"AAOOUU!"
Shouts echoed outside:"Demonic beast! A beast is attacking the town—run!"
Panic erupted. Screams mingled with the barking of dogs. Flames rose in the distance as a massive black wolf charged down the street, its scarlet eyes glowing like lanterns.
Lin Xuan's face drained of color. He was just a mortal—how could he face such a beast?
Worse still, the unconscious youth on the bed convulsed, black mist seeping from his wound, resonating with the aura of the wolf outside.
"He's been invaded by demonic qi?!" Lin Xuan's heart pounded.
The young man's eyes snapped open, blood-red, and he let out a guttural roar, lunging from the bed!
"Not good!"
Almost instinctively, Lin Xuan raised his hand. The gourd in his sleeve trembled violently, cracks glowing. A ghostly light burst forth, pulling all the black mist from the youth's chest into its depths.
The young man shuddered and collapsed once more into unconsciousness.
Lin Xuan's heart raced as he stared at the gourd in his palm."This thing… it's no ordinary relic!"
Outside, a heavy thud slammed against the door.
BANG!
The wood creaked, dust falling from the frame. The wolf had reached the clinic, its claws raking deep furrows into the planks.
Holding his breath, Lin Xuan grabbed a butcher's knife from the table, sweat dripping from his palm.
With a final crash, the door exploded inward.
A huge wolf with crimson eyes squeezed through, fangs glistening, breath foul with blood.
The candlelight wavered, casting its monstrous shadow across the walls like a beast from hell.
Lin Xuan clenched his jaw, hands trembling around the knife. The gourd in his sleeve pulsed faintly, its mouth opening and closing as if it were breathing.
The wolf's scarlet gaze locked onto him.
The air froze.
And Lin Xuan knew—If he took even half a step back, death would follow.