Wondrous celestial meteor

Eastern Victory Continent 

A vast and boundless land, extending far beyond the eye could see, home to countless kingdoms both great and small. This world was one of towering mountains and majestic rivers, blessed with sacred skies and secretive lands, with ancient forbidden zones and relics scattered throughout its expanse. Over the endless ages, legends of immortality, of celestial beings who defied death, were passed down from generation to generation. Humanity clung steadfastly to these tales, convinced of their truth.

... 

In the Yang family's secluded manor in the southern mountains of Yu Yang Nation, tranquility reigned amidst the blooming flowers. A young man sat cross-legged, deep in meditation as usual, his sharp, angular face bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. Overhead, the night sky was resplendent with stars, adding an air of mystery to the already mystical world of the Eastern Victory Continent.

What a breathtaking night! 

Yet the young man's eyes remained tightly shut, his focus unwavering, wholly immersed in his cultivation. A faint, azure aura surrounded him, giving him an ethereal, almost divine presence. After what seemed like an eternity, the young man exhaled, releasing a stream of white energy that lasted a full ten breaths. 

Were any of the world's martial artists to witness this, they would have been utterly astounded: the young man had already reached the innate realm of martial arts.

Upon finishing, the youth opened his eyes—eyes as deep and mysterious as the stars above. 

"Twelve years…" 

He lifted his gaze to the ever-unchanging night sky, his expression filled with a quiet, reflective longing. "Twelve springs, summers, autumns, and winters... twelve years of tireless cultivation, through rain or shine, to achieve what I have today..." 

This young man was named Yang Fan. At eighteen years old, he was the undisputed prodigy of the Southern Mountain Yang family, a clan known for their pursuit of immortality. In the vast expanse of the Yang family fortress, Yang Fan was recognized as the most gifted in cultivation—a true genius. 

At such a young age, Yang Fan had already ascended to the second realm of cultivation—Condensed Spirit. 

In the mystical realms of Eastern Victory, cultivation was divided into nine great stages: Qi Refinement, Condensed Spirit, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Transformation, Integration, Tribulation Crossing, and Grand Ascension. 

For someone of his age to reach the Condensed Spirit realm was nothing short of extraordinary. 

The ultimate goal of cultivation was to transcend the limits of mortality and attain immortality. Upon reaching the Condensed Spirit stage, a human's lifespan could extend to roughly 150 years. And as one's cultivation progressed, their life expectancy would further increase, along with the acquisition of supernatural abilities—controlling wind and rain, commanding rivers and seas, and traversing thousands of miles in the blink of an eye.

"Yet… despite all my efforts, even being hailed as the foremost genius of my family, the path to immortality—the eternal Dao—is still but a distant dream. And worst of all, it's been ten years since my father disappeared without a trace, and I still lack the power to find him…" 

A tinge of sorrow crept across Yang Fan's face. 

Who could truly comprehend the toil, the sacrifice behind his brilliance? The countless hours of dedication... and the profound loneliness that accompanied it all. 

Gazing into the vast and beautiful night sky, a hint of doubt crept into his heart regarding the dream he had pursued so tirelessly. 

"Could it be that the legends of immortality, of soaring through the heavens as a celestial being, are nothing more than the fantasies of those who came before me?" 

It was at that moment that the night sky over the Eastern Victory Continent was suddenly illuminated by a cascade of vibrant lights. 

"A meteor shower!" 

Yang Fan was stunned, his heart stirred with excitement. In his eighteen years of life, he had never before witnessed such a spectacle. 

"Brother Fan, come quick and see the meteor shower!" 

A youthful voice echoed as a boy, resembling Yang Fan but with a hint of youthful innocence, burst into the courtyard. 

This boy, with his delicate features, was Yang Lei, sixteen years old, and Yang Fan's younger brother. 

"Big brother, you shouldn't be so focused on cultivating all the time. Meteor showers are a rare event, maybe once in a hundred years." 

Yang Lei complained, though a smile played on his lips. 

"Haha, you're right. A meteor shower like this is indeed not to be missed." 

Yang Fan smiled and rose, accompanying his brother to watch the spectacle unfold. 

Yet, the meteor shower lasted but a fleeting moment, disappearing after only a few breaths. Just like that, it was gone. 

"Ah, what a pity…" Yang Lei lamented. "I didn't even have time to make a wish." 

However, a strange feeling stirred within Yang Fan. Why had the meteor shower ended so abruptly? 

"By the way, brother, don't forget tomorrow is the 'Wen Tian Assembly' that happens once every three years. It's a rare opportunity for us of the younger generation to showcase our progress. Every third-generation family member will be tested by the elders to assess their cultivation over the past three years." 

Yang Lei suddenly remembered and quickly reminded his brother. 

"Haha, the 'Wen Tian Assembly'… there's nothing to be excited about. The outcome is hardly a mystery." 

Yang Fan chuckled, his tone relaxed, as he patted his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "Believe in yourself. You can do your best." 

"Hmph, of course, you don't have to worry, brother. After only ten years of cultivation, you've already reached the early Condensed Spirit stage. It's the first time in our family's hundred-year history that someone so young has achieved such a feat. Who in the entire Southern Mountain Yang family could possibly compare to you?" 

Yang Lei's words were filled with admiration, though tinged with a hint of envy. 

Both he and Yang Fan had begun their cultivation journey around the same time, yet the gap between them had grown vast. While his elder brother had already reached the early stages of the Condensed Spirit realm, his own progress had stagnated at the late stages of Qi Refinement. 

Looking into his brother's admiring eyes, Yang Fan sighed, his deep, dark eyes reflecting the endless sky of Eastern Victory. 

"Throughout history, this land has birthed countless prodigies—geniuses who were brighter than I could ever hope to be. Yet, if we look back through the annals of time, not one has ascended beyond tribulation to become a true immortal in the past ten thousand years." 

As a child, he had gazed enviously at those "immortals" who soared through the skies, dreaming of the day he too could fly, unbound and free. Yet, after being accepted as a disciple by the family elder and receiving intensive cultivation, he came to realize that the world was far larger than he had ever imagined, and he, in comparison, was but a speck of dust. 

While his talent was certainly remarkable within the confines of the Southern Mountain Yang family, it was insignificant when measured against the vastness of the Eastern Victory Continent. 

Yang Lei, sensing the shift in his brother's emotions, looked up at the sky, similarly doubting the dreams he had once chased. 

Was the path to immortality truly nothing more than an elusive fantasy? 

But if that were so, why did millions of cultivators across the continent continue to pursue this distant and fleeting dream? 

Suddenly, a single shooting star appeared, cutting through the night sky. 

"What a beautiful star!" 

Yang Fan was momentarily taken aback. The meteor shower had vanished so mysteriously, yet now, here was another star blazing across the heavens. 

"Brother, look! Another shooting star! Let's make a wish." 

Yang Lei jumped with excitement, clasping his hands together as he shut his eyes to make a wish. 

Yang Fan gazed at the star, a smile playing on his lips. "From the looks of it, that star might fall near the Southern Mountains. Ancient texts say that if a meteor lands on earth, it can give rise to the rarest of celestial metals—materials from which legendary spiritual treasures are forged…" 

In his sight, the star grew clearer and clearer, yet it remained enveloped in a radiant, multi-colored glow, its size unchanged despite its descent. 

Suddenly, Yang Fan realized with shock that the meteor was headed straight for the Southern Mountain Yang family. 

"No… its target is this very courtyard…" 

Yang Fan's face paled, and just as he thought to warn his brother and evade, it was already too late. 

The meteor, no larger than a thumb, shot downward, striking Yang Fan squarely on the forehead. 

A small object fell, landing in Yang Fan's hand. 

"What is this…?" 

Yang Fan stared in astonishment at the strange silver ring that now lay in his palm. 

At first glance, the ring appeared utterly ordinary, devoid of any distinctive features. It could easily have been mistaken for a common ring of the mortal realm. 

Yet Yang Fan knew better—no ordinary ring would descend from the heavens. 

It was said that while cultivators who reached the Condensed Spirit stage could fly, only the most powerful beings could venture beyond the heavens. It was rumored that the skies above were filled with terrifying lightning and fierce winds—forces so powerful they could tear even the mightiest of beings to shreds. 

"What secrets could this ring possibly hold?"