Wei Tian

China. 

In an ancient temple deep within the Henan province, over twenty men and women ran tirelessly across the training chamber. The room, though spacious, bore the marks of time: its dirt floor packed firm by generations of footsteps, wooden and stone columns standing as silent witnesses to history, and an open ceiling allowing beams of sunlight to pierce through, casting long shadows on the people below.

At the far left corner of the room, shelves that once held rusted, forgotten weapons now gleamed with a deadly edge. Swords, sabers, greatswords, bows, axes, and shields—relics of a bygone era—had been restored to their former glory, wielded once more by those who had reclaimed their purpose.

Soon the chamber echoed with the relentless clash of steel as they sparred, attacking and parrying with fierce determination. Around twenty men and women, clad in tattered red robes, moved with renewed vigor. Their bodies, that were worn down by time and despair until two weeks ago, now brimmed with energy as they trained relentlessly.

They've never been so energetic!

They were the Wei family.

A name that once commanded armies, that once stood at the heart of great wars—now reduced to near extinction, buried by the tides of time. Their ancestral legacy, once feared and revered, had become little more than a footnote in forgotten history. But now, fate had given them a second chance.

The Wei family was an ancestral one, dating back to when the country wasn't even called China. From the remaining files, not many, they knew that the old family fought many battles. A name that once commanded armies, that once stood at the heart of great wars—now reduced to near extinction, buried by the tides of time. Their ancestral legacy, once feared and revered, had become little more than a footnote in forgotten history. 

A little dust waiting to be swept away by the breeze of time.

Fortunately, that breeze brought good news: now, fate had given them a second chance.

Two weeks ago, everything changed. A power long thought to be myth surged back into the world—Qi! Just like the myths they read in the family archive, they soon discovered that their techniques, previously considered useless in the modern world, were capable of granting them the power they claimed!

The moment they felt its presence, the family erupted in an uproar. Gone were the idle days of lamenting their decline. Now, every hour was spent training, cultivating, and refining their martial arts.

Hope had returned.

Their swords gleamed sharper. Their fists struck harder. The Wei family's downfall would be paid for in blood!

Qi revolved incessantly in the training chamber. Any newer cultivator would be scared shitless from this scene, almost everyone in the training chambers had already achieved the Second Stage of Body Tempering!

And in the center of it all stood a middle-aged man.

His sharp eyes scanned the room, his booming voice calling out corrections as he drilled the warriors mercilessly. He barked commands, corrected stances, refined their techniques, pushing his kin past their limits. He was the martial master of the family, the power coursing through his veins trembled on the brink of a breakthrough—he was close to stepping into the Third Stage of Body Tempering! 

With broad shoulders and long black hair cascading past them, he carried an imposing presence. His piercing gaze never ceased its scrutiny, constantly measuring the strength of those around him. He was a man of arms, forged in discipline and hardened by adversity.

The astonishing speed at which the Wei family advanced in cultivation was not unexpected. In truth, they had spent their entire lives unknowingly attempting to absorb Qi that did not exist. Now, their bodies—like dry soil tasting rain for the first time—drank in the energy with insatiable hunger.

As the rhythmic clash of weapons filled the training chamber, a sharp chime cut through the air. Someone had knocked on the temple's door.

"Who could it be this time? Wei Xuafeng, go check it!" the martial instructor ordered without looking up.

"On it!" A lean, sharp-eyed young man immediately responded, darting out of the chamber with quick steps.

Leaving the chamber, Wei Xuafeng passed one corridor after another. The ancient temple was almost like a labyrinth, as old as time, and only the family knew how to navigate inside.

Moments later, he reached the entrance. As he pulled open the heavy wooden doors, he was met with the sight of a young man standing tall.

Dressed in designer black jeans, a crisp white T-shirt, and a gold watch that gleamed under the daylight, the visitor exuded wealth and arrogance.

"Oh, if it isn't Mr. Lingxin," Wei Xuafeng greeted with forced politeness, a sharp edge hidden beneath his tone. His lips curled into a smile—one that didn't reach his eyes.

He despised this man.

"Oh, greetings, Xuafeng." Han Lingxin's smirk was laced with condescension. "I'm here to discuss my marriage to Mei. Where's the old man?" His tone was mocking, the words dripping with casual disrespect.

Gritting his teeth trying to control the fury in his eyes, Wei Xuafeng's fists clenched involuntarily, his nails digging into his palms. Only the family's strict command to remain low-key prevented him from driving his fist straight into Han Lingxin's smug face.

Taking a slow breath, he forced his voice to remain even. "Our Grandmaster is ill and won't be able to receive you today. Please return another time."

"Oh? Is that so?" Lingxin chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "No problem then…" He feigned indifference, but his smirk widened. Mocking the Wei family was always entertaining.

Then, as if remembering something, he reached into his designer purse. "But let me try to convince you otherwise: This is part of what I plan on giving as the marriage gift, here, look!"

With a deliberate motion, he revealed an aged book with a deep purple cover.

Wei Xuafeng's breath hitched. His eyes widened.

A cultivation book!

Though their family had lived in seclusion, Xuafeng still followed the news through the internet. Until now, he had dismissed the reports of mysterious books granting cultivation techniques as rumors. But here it was—undeniable proof.

[This… I must inform my grandfather immediately!] 

If anyone could really use cultivation techniques to become stronger, the implications of it were huge. Perhaps their family's plans would have to change!

Han Lingxin, seeing the flicker of recognition in Xuafeng's expression, smirked. "So, you're not as clueless as I thought." He spun the book lazily between his fingers. "My father managed to acquire a few of these. Just a taste of the benefits that come with Mei's marriage to me…"

Lingxing turned around, leaving the words hanging in the air. After taking a few steps, he suddenly paused, glancing back over his shoulder. This time, his expression was cold, his voice carrying an unmistakable warning.

"I've already given the Wei family more face than they deserve in this matter. I hope it's resolved soon… or there will be serious consequences."

Without another word, he strode forward, slipping into the sleek limousine waiting nearby.

Xuafeng stood there, watching him leave. His lips curled into a sneer.

Then, without hesitation, he raised his middle finger at Han Lingxin's retreating figure.

*********

Sitting in a dimly lit chamber filled with ancient scrolls, a white-haired man's eyes burned with intensity. Ever since Qi had once again blessed the Earth, he had tirelessly sifted through the old family records, searching for lost wisdom. If the cultivation manual truly worked, then what of the other techniques? Could they, too, be real?

Unfortunately, many of the parchments had succumbed to time's relentless erosion, their knowledge lost as the family declined. Some techniques were now only referenced in fragmented notes, their secrets just out of reach. Yet, that was not what troubled the patriarch most at this moment.

Draped in a tattered blue robe, the old man's bald head and round brown eyes gave him the appearance of a weathered monk. However, something had changed—his presence was more commanding, his body subtly rejuvenated by the return of Qi.

Kneeling before him, Wei Xuafeng had just finished his report.

"That arrogant brat!" The old man's fist slammed into the wooden table, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a war drum. The force sent a shudder through Wei Xuafeng's bones.

The patriarch took a deep breath, steadying himself. His voice was calmer now, but no less dangerous.

"Our family has waited a millennium for this moment. Soon, the world will witness what we are capable of." His gaze turned distant, as if he could already see their enemies trembling before them. "Those who looked down on us will regret it. So what if his father is the governor!?"

The old man fixed his gaze into Wei Xuafeng once again.

"My plan cannot be anticipated, we need time to gather our strength before acting. We will be unstoppable!" The old man smiled at that thought.

Xuafeng hesitated before speaking. "But now that they have the books…" His voice carried a hint of unease. Having already reached the Second Stage of Body Tempering, he understood the true power of a cultivator. If those books were authentic, it could mean trouble.

"I will send someone to investigate these so-called manuals." The patriarch waved his hand dismissively. "But worry not—our family's heritage is far deeper than a mere book. We do not rely solely on cultivation techniques. Let them train. Let them cultivate. In the end, true power belongs to those with the superior arts."

Xuafeng's doubts faded, his grandfather's confidence infecting him. He grinned. "A strong man without technique is like a bull without horns."

The old man chuckled, nodding in approval. "A good saying." His expression then hardened. "Do not speak of this to anyone, especially Wei Tian. He must remain focused."

Understanding the weight of the order, Xuafeng bowed deeply. "Yes, Grandfather."

***********

In a chamber not far away, a young man around his twenties sat cross-legged in deep meditation

He had short black hair and was wearing the same old tattered red robe. Though his eyes remained shut, his presence eclipsed every warrior in the training grounds. He did not seem like a mere man at rest, but a King awaiting his subjects.

The air in the chamber trembled. Qi surged wildly, converging toward him in a frenzied vortex. The very walls seemed to hum with energy.

BANG!

A pressure exploded within his body. His bones groaned under the immense force, cracks resounding in the quiet chamber. A viscous black sludge oozed from his pores, staining the floor beneath him—the impurities purged from his body.

Wei Tian's eyes snapped open, gleaming with newfound strength.

He inhaled deeply, feeling his entire body blessed in the euphoric sensation of breakthrough. His movements were slow as he rose to his feet, stretching his muscles with deliberate ease. His body felt lighter, yet more solid, as if he had shed a shackle that had bound him for years. The refined Qi within him surged through his veins, coursing with a newfound intensity.

[Finally… Fourth Stage of Body Tempering!] His lips curled into a smirk.[ It won't take longer before grandfather starts his plan…] Wei Tian thought while stretching his muscles.

He clenched his fists, marveling at the power contained within his frame. Every muscle, every tendon, every bone—strengthened, tempered, reborn. He could feel the difference, the vast chasm between him and his former self.

[Now, I'm certain—I am the strongest cultivator on Earth!]

The thought sent a thrill through him, a surge of pride and exhilaration that was impossible to suppress. He had trained relentlessly, endured pain that would break lesser men, and now, he stood at the peak of all cultivators. Yet, this was only the beginning.

Wei Tian closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the weight of his realization.

Their time had come.

For centuries, the Wei family had been forgotten, trampled beneath the feet of the so-called elite. But no longer. The world would soon be forced to acknowledge their return, and when that moment arrived, none would dare stand in their way.

For the first time, the future didn't just seem promising. It felt inevitable