Three months had passed since the great event that shook the martial world like an earthquake splitting mountains. The seasons had changed, bringing healing rains and gentle winds that helped wash away the scars of battle. On Wudang Peak, an unusual crowd filled every corner, their colorful robes creating a tapestry of celebration."The Wudang Sect Leader is getting married!" someone in the crowd shouted excitedly, his voice carrying across the mountain valleys like temple bells ringing in joyous harmony."Let's watch, it's a rare event!" said another, getting carried away with the excitement. Silk banners fluttered in the mountain breeze, their golden threads catching the morning sunlight."Leader Rong is marrying Elder Xiao, his childhood best friend!" The news spread through the gathering like wildfire, igniting smiles on every face.The news had spread throughout the country, making everyone flock to the event, even without an invitation. People traveled for days, crossing treache

Rong Tian stepped back into the deepest part of his room, breathing heavily like a cornered wolf. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath his bare feet, each sound echoing in the suffocating silence. His heart was pounding like a war drum beaten by invisible hands, the rhythm threatening to burst from his chest.The footsteps of four tall figures wearing masks sounded threatening, their heavy boots creating an ominous symphony against the stone courtyard. Each step resonated with menace, like death itself approaching with measured patience.He knew this might be his last night, the final chapter of a scholar's dreams turned to nightmare.The city of Biramaki slowly sank into the silence of the night, its cobblestone streets cooling under the starless sky. The air carried the scent of burning oil from street lamps and the lingering aroma of evening meals. The streets that had been bustling earlier in the day were now deserted, lit only by dim lanterns swaying in the wind like fireflies

Even more shocking, he realized he was inside a rocking horse-drawn carriage, speeding toward an unknown destination. The wooden walls closed around him like a mobile prison, and the constant motion made his stomach lurch with each bump and turn."Good! You're awake," a familiar hoarse voice echoed from the corner of the carriage like gravel grinding against metal. The sound carried satisfaction tinged with cruelty.Rong Tian turned toward the voice and saw three men dressed entirely in black. This time, they were not wearing masks, revealing their hard, unfriendly faces marked by scars and weathered by violence. Their eyes held no mercy, only professional indifference to his suffering."I've been captured. By whom? And I don't know what I've done…" he murmured softly, trying to recall the events of the previous night. Memory fragments floated through his mind like leaves scattered by wind.As an educated man versed in classics and strategy, Rong Tian knew he was in danger that went b

The man with the scarred face fell silent for a moment, then nodded slowly like a blade being sheathed. The leader continued, his words carrying the finality of a death sentence. "Just wait and see. Once we arrive at the Hadarac Desert, starving wolves will be waiting. His chances of survival are only one percent. The rest? A gruesome death that will feed the vultures for days."Rong Tian shivered at the conversation, goosebumps rising on his bruised skin. The desert wind carried whispers of those who had perished before him, their spirits trapped in endless sand.His heart raced with fear, but his resolve remained unwavering like bamboo bending but never breaking. He knew the Hadarac Desert was a brutal place where hope went to die, but he also knew that only by surviving could he one day avenge everything that had been done to him.The driver of the cart laughed loudly, adding fuel to their cruelty. His weathered hands gripped the reins with practiced ease, having driven this route

Rong Tian fell onto a thick mound of sand at the bottom of the Abyss of Suffering, his body creating a deep impression in the shifting dunes. The sand was cold against his torn robes, each grain feeling like tiny needles against his bruised skin.This was an unexpected stroke of luck, as the sand pile had saved him from certain death, or at least from fatal fractures. The desert wind howled above the cliff edges, carrying with it the scent of ancient bones buried beneath countless layers of time.However, the sharp pain in his stomach quickly reminded him that he was still trapped in endless suffering. His dantian throbbed with agony where his cultivation core had been shattered, the spiritual pathways torn like silk threads ripped by cruel hands.With his body covered in wounds that painted crimson patterns across his scholarly attire, he crawled weakly, trying to gather the last remnants of his strength. The moonlight cast eerie shadows across the sandy floor, illuminating the despe