Night cloaked the land.
Flames surged skyward, devouring Snow Plum Manor and its countless pavilions. Firelight dyed the heavens crimson, turning the night into a blazing inferno.
Black-clad figures stood amid the chaos, their expressions cold and indifferent as the manor was reduced to ash. From time to time, a few figures would stagger out of the fire, unable to endure the heat—only to be beheaded instantly, blood splattering across the scorched ground.
Lord Feng stood at the forefront.
His lips slowly curled into a smile.
He wanted to witness Snow Plum Manor's destruction with his own eyes.
The fire grew fiercer.
Suddenly, a black-clad subordinate rushed over, panic written all over his face.
"Lord Feng! Longshan Taoist of the True Martial Sect is already on his way! We must retreat immediately!"
Lord Feng's expression darkened, a flicker of apprehension flashing through his eyes.
"Wasn't that old bastard supposed to arrive tomorrow?" he snapped. "Why is he here early?"
"This subordinate… does not know."
"Useless."
Lord Feng snorted coldly, then gave the order without hesitation.
"Withdraw."
Longshan Taoist was no ordinary Daoist.
A once-in-a-generation genius, he was rumored to have inherited the True Martial Legacy. Rising to prominence within the Great Yan Dynasty, he had rebuilt the True Martial Sect with his own hands, earning widespread reverence among Daoist factions.
It was said he stood only half a step from the Celestial Realm.
Even with his forces outnumbering the enemy, Lord Feng had no confidence in facing him head-on.
He cast one last glance at Snow Plum Manor, now swallowed by a sea of fire.
Under such flames, even seasoned martial artists could not survive—let alone a newborn infant.
The child was surely dead by now.
With a cold smile, Lord Feng turned away.
The black-clad figures vanished into the night like a gust of wind.
Inside the hidden compartment.
The temperature rose steadily.
Ning Qi felt both shock and rage.
He had not expected these people to be so ruthless—slaughtering the entire manor and then setting it ablaze to erase all traces.
A cold glint flashed through his eyes.
But this was no time for hatred.
Survival came first.
The Innate Fetal Breathing Art circulated continuously, slowing the invasion of heat. Yet Ning Qi knew all too well—once the fire reached this compartment, death would be inevitable.
He was newly born, unable to move, unable even to cry freely.
Without the breathing technique he had just created, he would already be dead.
Even so, the situation remained desperate.
"What can I do…?"
His thoughts raced.
Through the roaring flames, he faintly heard movement retreating.
"Longshan Taoist… True Martial Sect…"
"Is he an ally of my parents? Or a righteous cultivator passing by?"
Hope ignited within Ning Qi.
This Daoist might be his only chance.
He curled tightly within the swaddling clothes, which were woven from an unusually resilient material. He needed to endure—endure until Longshan Taoist arrived.
More importantly, he needed to be discovered.
"I need to make a sound."
"A sound loud enough to pierce through the flames."
Even if a peak expert could sense him once he exited his breathing state, Ning Qi knew he could not rely on chance alone.
"How do I amplify my voice?"
"Merge sound with Qi… expel it through vibration… An infant's cry is already sharp. If I optimize the vibration frequency…"
Insights poured into his mind.
He opened and closed his mouth, mobilizing the Innate Qi within his body. A strong intuition told him that once he cried out, it would not be ordinary.
This was a crude vocalization technique.
If named, it could be called the Sound Wave Oscillation Method.
A glimmer of excitement flickered in Ning Qi's eyes.
If he had any martial foundation at all, he might even have created a true sound-based martial art—something akin to the legendary Lion's Roar from his previous life.
This was the terror of Peak Comprehension.
Everything was ready.
He waited.
"Longshan Taoist… you must come quickly."
The heat surged higher. Wooden beams collapsed with thunderous crashes. If not for the compartment's construction, he would have already been crushed.
The night grew deeper.
Yet Snow Plum Manor burned brighter than daylight, flames staining half the sky red.
When Longshan Taoist arrived and beheld the scene, fury surged through his eyes.
"What vicious fiends!"
He had come at another's invitation—only to arrive too late.
The methods used here were nothing short of monstrous.
With a roar, Protective Qi surged from his palms like cascading rain, suppressing the raging flames. Some fires were extinguished—but new ones immediately flared up.
His expression darkened.
The fire was already beyond saving.
Even if he exhausted his cultivation, all that would remain were ruins.
With Protective Qi shielding his body, Longshan Taoist strode through the flames, his voice echoing through the inferno.
"Manor Lord Ning!"
"Heroine Jiang!"
"Longshan Taoist has arrived!"
Though he knew the chances were slim, he still clung to hope.
Again and again he called out.
No answer came.
Regret filled his heart.
Had he arrived half a day earlier, this tragedy might have been avoided.
Suddenly—
He halted.
An infant's cry rang out faintly.
At first, he thought it was an illusion.
But the cry came again—sharp, piercing, cutting through the roaring flames.
"There's a survivor!"
Longshan Taoist's eyes widened.
He leapt into the air, soaring toward the source of the sound. Protective Qi condensed in his palm, instantly extinguishing the flames in that area.
Approaching carefully, he focused his senses.
The cry was coming from a hidden compartment.
With a blade-like sweep of Qi, he cut it open.
A swaddled infant appeared before him.
Longshan Taoist froze.
The moment the compartment opened, the crying stopped. The infant simply stared at him calmly—as if the cry had been meant for him alone.
Even more astonishing—
The temperature inside the compartment, while high, should have been fatal to a newborn.
Yet the child lived.
"This child… has an extraordinary destiny."
He lifted Ning Qi gently.
Within the swaddling clothes lay a jade pendant engraved with the character Qi, along with a copy of Night Plum Swordplay.
"The combined masterpiece of Ning Ye and Jiang Xuemei…"
Longshan Taoist sighed softly.
"So you are the child they left behind."
"This may be Heaven's will… or perhaps their spirits protected you."
"Your name shall be Ning Qi."
As the words fell, the infant seemed to smile.
"You possess exceptional spiritual essence," Longshan Taoist murmured. "Born able to discern good and evil… your future will not be ordinary."
Ning Qi relaxed at last.
The danger had passed.
Hearing his name unchanged, his tense mind finally loosened. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he slipped into deep sleep.
Longshan Taoist checked his pulse and exhaled in relief.
But then, surprise filled his eyes.
The child's Innate Qi was unusually abundant.
"No wonder he survived…"
"And that cry earlier—there was technique within it."
"Is it possible… someone truly born with understanding?"
An unpolished jade.
That was what Ning Qi was.
With a firm gaze, Longshan Taoist made a vow.
"Rest in peace, Manor Lord Ning. Heroine Jiang."
"I will raise your son well."
"And I will uncover the truth behind this massacre."
The following day.
Longshan Taoist stood before a cenotaph, Ning Qi cradled in his arms.
The fire had left nothing behind—no bodies, no remains.
Only this grave.
Ning Qi gazed at it silently.
Though newly reborn, the memory of his mother's warmth lingered deeply in his heart.
I will not forget this kindness.
One day… I will avenge you.
A cold resolve settled within him.
Lord Feng.
The black-clad killers.
None would escape.
With Peak Comprehension, all he needed was time.
And now—
He had a stable refuge.
Longshan Taoist smiled gently.
"From this day on, you are my ninth disciple."
"Come. Let us return to the mountain."
Holding Ning Qi, his figure drifted away—leaving behind only ashes and a silent vow carved into fate itself.