Chapter One: The Righteous-faced Disciple of the Demon Sect

Xuan Zheng Continent, seat of the Grand Hong Empire. Here, the ancient traditions flourish, revering the heavens and honoring the earth. Towering peaks rise majestically, clear streams flow endlessly. Whether immortals, demons, gods, or spirits, all cultivators refine themselves within these lands.

Baihe Bay was once the abode of a river god. In years past, the waters were pure and the river ran clean; the god tended the channels, bestowing blessings upon the people living along both banks. But today, layer upon layer of turbulent waves and murky torrents churn relentlessly, countless monstrous shadows flickering beneath the surface.

Dark clouds gather overhead, muffled thunder rolls, and demonic energy surges skyward.

On the shore, the townsfolk cower behind trees, trembling with anxiety, their gazes fixed nervously on the battle raging within the river.

The local water deity, renowned for his benevolence, is beset by demon hordes. Swarms of spirits command wind and rain, raising ink-black waves, the foul waters turning savage—so treacherous not even a swallow could cross.

Meanwhile, the immortal master Ji Feichen, summoned to subdue the monsters, has vanished within the mist; whether he has triumphed or fallen, no one can tell.

“Could it be that we’ve lost? Has the immortal master and our river god both fallen to these demons?” The villagers’ hearts are filled with dread, fear spreading through the crowd.

“Nonsense! Our river god holds heaven’s mandate, governs the waters of this region, his fortune long and lasting—how could he suffer calamity? As for the immortal master…” An elder looked up at the twelve emerald orbs hovering above the thick mist and muddy waters, his expression uncertain, his tone tentative: “His powers are vast; he should be unharmed.”

Those twelve orbs suspended above the river were left by Master Ji, to suppress the water’s turmoil and prevent the monsters from flooding both banks and harming the people.

“Haha… You use your own treasures to restrain the water’s fury, but how will you protect yourself?” The turtle-dragon let out a booming laugh and leapt from the depths.

This turtle-dragon had come from afar, coveting the auspicious energies here, intent on slaying the river god to take his place.

The turtle-dragon demon king wielded a moonlight eight-pronged trident, and wore a dark water pearl crown. Its dragon head and human body topped with a black turtle shell made for a rather ludicrous sight.

Yet the demon king’s strength was formidable, and Ji Feichen found himself hard-pressed. His expression grave, he watched the demon king raise its trident, sending cold flashes and waves crashing toward him.

Ji Feichen blinked and, hidden within his sleeve, flicked his finger.

Splash—

Five brilliant white orbs shot from the water, striking the turtle-dragon’s back. A pained scream rang out as it toppled into the river.

“I never said I only had twelve Emerald Tide Orbs.” The white-robed man smiled serenely. With a flash, seven more shining emerald orbs burst from the water, relentlessly assaulting the turtle-dragon’s true form.

Stunned by the twelve orbs, Ji Feichen pressed his advantage, pointing skyward: “Strike!” Instantly, twelve emerald streams of light plummeted from above.

The orbs’ brilliance outshone sun and moon, blinding countless water monsters in an instant. With a spin, under Ji Feichen’s command, the twelve orbs battered the turtle-dragon again.

With the monsters’ assault halted, the river god, suppressed beneath the waves, rose in a surge. Azure waves rolled forth, subduing the horde.

Indeed: “A thousand-foot surge slices through the demon host, layered jade waters resound with divine might.”

Freed, the river god summoned white waves to cleanse the realm, sweeping away the demonic aura from the river, subduing the monsters in one fell swoop.

“The tide has turned.” Ji Feichen relaxed, continuing to restrain the turtle-dragon. Twenty-four orbs linked into a chain and floated into his hand. With a shake, the chain lengthened into a lock, binding the turtle-dragon. Pulling hard, he fished the demon king from the water.

At last, a small dragon with a turtle shell, entwined in emerald light, was held by the white-robed immortal.

These twenty-four Emerald Tide Orbs had been forged by Ji Feichen after slaying a deep-sea mollusk spirit, refining pearls formed from the essence of sun and moon. Each orb contained celestial essence; their brilliance could eclipse heaven and earth, extinguishing life with ease. Being treasures of the deep, they possessed the power to command tides and manipulate clouds and waters.

Bound by the Emerald Tide Orbs, the turtle-dragon struggled in vain.

“So, you’re a young dragon demon with five hundred years’ cultivation.” Ji Feichen’s eyes flashed with a mischievous glint. With a playful shake, the twenty-four orbs radiated dazzling light, streams of energy slicing through the turtle-dragon’s organs, robbing it of all resistance.

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After the river god had cleared away the monsters and tidied the battleground, he came forward to thank Ji Feichen: “Thank you, Immortal Master Qinghong, for your assistance. Without you, I would have lost my post as water deity.”

Dragons excel at manipulating water. Had the turtle-dragon claimed the river god’s position, with a century’s reign he would shed his shell and fully transform into a true dragon.

Fortunately, the locals, familiar with the river god and having a temple priest versed in divine matters, hastily sought help and summoned Master Qinghong, who happened to be traveling nearby. Otherwise, the river would have changed hands, leaving the people on both banks struggling for survival.

Ji Feichen brushed his sleeve, his expression solemn: “No need for thanks. Immortal and deity are one; I am a disciple of the orthodox Xuan Sect. Seeing a respected god in peril, it is my duty to assist. Yet, honored deity, as for the terms we discussed…”

“That’s simple!” The river god laughed. “Helping you is helping myself. Spreading the seasonal rhyme benefits me as well.”

One condition for Ji Feichen’s help was to have the river god promote the seasonal song.

“Plum blossoms bloom at Spring’s Start, apricot flowers open fresh with Rain Water; in the reed groves, thunder heralds Awakening of Insects, butterflies dance among flowers at Spring Equinox.

Kites soar at Clear and Bright, tender tea leaves connect at Grain Rain, mulberries ripen like cherries at Summer Start, silkworms are tended and fields sown at Lesser Fullness.

Jade seedlings are planted before the door at Grain in Ear, rice blossoms as white ribbon at Summer Solstice; winds hasten early beans at Minor Heat, lotus is admired by the river at Great Heat.

Cicadas lull to sleep at Autumn Start, sunflowers smile at End of Heat; swallows depart, wild geese arrive at White Dew, osmanthus scents the garden at Autumn Equinox.

Vegetable shoots green the fields at Cold Dew, reed flowers drift through the sky at Frost’s Descent; winter’s joy brings three auspicious signs at Winter Start, wild swans fly everywhere at Minor Snow.

Plum blossoms brave the wind at Great Snow, auspicious snow foretells abundance at Winter Solstice; cold snakes slumber at Minor Cold, peace is kept at year’s end during Great Cold.”

The song extolled the twenty-four solar terms: Spring Start, Rain Water, Awakening of Insects, Spring Equinox, Clear and Bright, Grain Rain, Summer Start, Lesser Fullness, Grain in Ear, Summer Solstice, Minor Heat, Great Heat, Autumn Start, End of Heat, White Dew, Autumn Equinox, Cold Dew, Frost’s Descent, Winter Start, Minor Snow, Great Snow, Winter Solstice, Minor Cold, and Great Cold.

What use this seasonal song might have, the river god did not know. But seeing the divine weapons left behind by the turtle-dragon and its minions, he had no reason to refuse.

To him, Ji Feichen’s refusal to claim any spoils already seemed generous; a simple seasonal song was hardly a price.

Ji Feichen took nothing but the turtle-dragon; the river god felt he’d gained the advantage, as did Ji Feichen.

The twenty-four solar terms match the climate, guiding agricultural seasons. As the song spreads and agriculture prospers, when the water god orchestrates clouds and rain according to the song, Ji Feichen, unseen, accrues vast merit. Compared to mere artifacts, the favor of heaven and the gratitude of the people matter far more.

Ji Feichen lingered in the water palace for some days. When the song had spread and he sensed merit approaching, he took his leave.

Exiting the palace, he saw the villagers reciting the seasonal song, and smiled. He summoned water clouds with the twenty-four Emerald Tide Orbs, riding them to a wild plain hundreds of miles away.

There, he sat cross-legged. Auspicious clouds gathered overhead, so he quickly raised the twenty-four orbs in sacrifice. Threads of golden merit fell upon them; on each orb appeared a true mark, bearing the name of a solar term.

“Luckily, I helped Grandma look up the seasonal song back on Earth, or I’d never have claimed this merit.”

Ji Feichen was a transmigrator, having crossed from Earth to this world of immortal cultivation a few years ago. Because Xuan Zheng Continent’s climate resembled ancient China, the twenty-four solar term song worked here as well. Fortunately, the continent’s water was unstable, relying on local spirits for governance, making conditions vary widely. By instituting the solar terms and unifying the seasons, Ji Feichen performed a deed that benefited heaven and earth, earning himself great fortune.

He felt grateful that, years ago, he’d researched various versions of the seasonal song for his grandmother. Of the dozen versions, he’d memorized one by accident, and by this stroke of luck, gained an opportunity in this world so reminiscent of ancient China.

The twenty-four Emerald Tide Orbs aligned with the seasons and the five elements, perfectly matching the solar terms. When fused with merit, they became merit-based artifacts, able to kill without incurring karmic retribution.

Yet, since only one river god had helped spread the song, it hadn’t truly penetrated the hearts of the people, so the merit was modest. Flecks of golden light and auspicious energy infused the orbs, slightly enhancing their spirit.

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Examining each Emerald Tide Orb carefully, Ji Feichen then released the turtle-dragon.

The turtle-dragon, now lethargic and weak, let out a furious roar upon release: “If you have the guts, kill me!”

“Don’t be scared! I am the son of the Dragon Lord of Golden Lake. If you dare kill me, my father could crush you with a finger!”

The dragon clan wielded great power in Xuan Zheng Continent, controlling many rivers and lakes. Dragon Lords surpassed ordinary water gods, requiring at least the Golden Core realm to earn the title.

“Oh? Dragon Lord of Golden Lake? I’ll remember that.” Ji Feichen’s expression remained unchanged as he gathered the twenty-four orbs and produced a jet-black, gleaming long mace. As the weapon appeared, the righteous immortal aura about him shifted to sinister demonic energy.

“Wait—you’re not a Daoist!” Shivering in the malevolent aura, the turtle-dragon suddenly realized: “You… you… you’re from the Demon Sect?” His voice was filled with terror and panic.

The Daoist sect cultivates pure energy; the Demon Sect refines the impure. Ji Feichen’s rising black mist clearly marked his demonic arts—and these arts were tied to the dragon clan.

“The ‘Dark Fiend Demon Dragon Sutra’?” The turtle-dragon recalled his father’s warning: dragons traveling abroad must beware certain arts, among them the ‘Dark Fiend Demon Dragon Sutra,’ a technique for transformation that could consume dragon blood for cultivation.

“Some knowledge, then.” Ji Feichen smirked, lightly tapping the dragon’s head with his Demon Dragon Mace. Cold demonic power instantly coursed through the turtle-dragon.

Within moments, the turtle-dragon visibly shrank. Its vital essence was drawn out and refined, strengthening Ji Feichen’s own demonic energy. The ‘Dark Fiend Demon Dragon Sutra,’ famed within the Nether Sect, could, at advanced levels, transform the practitioner into a demon dragon, impervious to blades and flames, rivaling terrestrial immortals. Ji Feichen was only at the entry stage, without even a basic demonic golden core, but against this five-hundred-year-old turtle-dragon, it was enough.

Through demonic arts, he devoured the turtle-dragon’s essence, rapidly doubling his own power.

“Indeed, venturing out enhances my strength far more than meditating in the mountains.” Ji Feichen was pleased with his choice. Carrying the banner of a Daoist immortal made his travels easier; had he revealed his Demon Sect identity, the villagers would have shunned him, perhaps even mistaken him for a turtle-dragon ally, seeking to destroy him.

Feeling exhilarated, Ji Feichen thought: after years as a transmigrator, he finally felt at home in this world of immortals and demons.

After draining its vital energy, the turtle-dragon was reduced to a mere skin and shell. The skin was useless, but the shell could serve as a material for artifact refinement.

He reached for the shell, when suddenly a golden light burst forth. Dragon roars echoed in his ears, and a divine presence descended from afar.

“I was ready for you!” Ji Feichen flipped his hand, revealing a black dragon scale. Lustrous as jade, he swiftly pressed it against the shell. A shadowy black dragon appeared, devouring the distant Dragon Lord of Golden Lake’s energy.

In an instant, the power left by the Dragon Lord in his son was erased by the scale.

Squinting, Ji Feichen retrieved the dragon scale, caressing its smooth surface. Faint, intricate patterns could be seen upon it—these mysterious markings allowed him, a demon sect practitioner, to masquerade as a disciple of the orthodox sect.

“If even a Dragon Lord can’t withstand this scale’s power, could it be from a Celestial Dragon King?” Ji Feichen pondered his situation. He had been living peacefully on Earth, only to find himself transported to this world, inhabiting the body of another with the same name. Well, perhaps ‘inhabiting’ was too strong—more accurately, the Nether Sect’s Ji Feichen had died, and he entered the vacant body. He felt no presence of the former soul, nor any sense of devouring or merging, just an empty vessel claimed by him, holding only this mysterious dragon scale.

“According to those novels, this dragon scale must be the reason for my transmigration, right?” He inspected it repeatedly, but found no clue as to its true use, or what golden finger or cheat it might contain.

“Never mind, I’ll think about it later. Time to return to the Nether Sect.” With a flick of his robe, the once-righteous Daoist disciple now radiated a chilling aura.

He summoned the Demon Dragon Mace, and a shadowy black dragon writhed within the clouds and mist. Enveloped in dark fog, Ji Feichen soared to a hidden lair he had prepared in advance.