Chapter 1: Reborn Beneath the Ancestral Cauldron

Autumn Maple Town, Daxia Country.

Inside the Ye family's ancestral hall, sandalwood desks were lined with offerings. In the center stood a floor-to-ceiling black incense tripod, wisps of smoke curling gently from a few burning sticks.

The heavy doors creaked open as a thin figure stepped inside.

It was a girl of thirteen or fourteen. Her face was small and delicately featured, but her messy hair and vacant eyes dulled her beauty like dust on a pearl.

She had just walked up to the offering desk when several figures suddenly appeared and rushed at her.

"There she is! Caught the little thief!" shouted a servant, as several rough hands grabbed her limbs and forced her to the ground.

"Mmm… mm!" The girl's eyes widened in fear. She tried to break free, but how could her weak strength compare to that of the Ye family's trained house slaves—men who had practiced martial arts since childhood and reached the first level of body training?

"Ye Lingyue! You idiot! Who gave you the guts to steal offerings from the ancestral table?" barked a servant named Wang Gui, a close lackey of Ye Qing, the Ye family's sixth young master.

The girl being pinned to the floor was Ye Qing's cousin, Ye Lingyue. Though she was a daughter of the Ye family, her status was even lower than that of a servant.

To the Ye family, Ye Lingyue was nothing more than a disgrace—a fool.

"No… sick… cleaning…" Ye Lingyue stammered, panic flashing across her pale face.

"Still making excuses?" Wang Gui growled, then raised his hand and slapped her across the face—once, twice, again and again.

Wang Gui was known for his martial strength. Just a few slaps left Ye Lingyue's face swollen and red. But still not satisfied, he lifted his leg and kicked her hard in the stomach.

Her small body flew like a ragged kite, crashing into the heavy tripod with a loud thud.

"She's not moving. Did we kill the little fool?" one of the servants muttered nervously.

"She's not that easy to kill," Wang Gui sneered. "This idiot's been beaten for over a decade and still crawls around. The young master said she's got a cursed life."

His eyes narrowed as he noticed the incense tripod beside Ye Lingyue.

The Ye family's ancestral hall had stood for over thirty years, and that incense cauldron had been there since the beginning—never once cleaned.

Wang Gui stepped forward, lifted the lid, and scooped up a handful of old incense ash.

"You lot—pry open her mouth. Let's feed this filthy little thing what she came here to steal."

The other slaves laughed cruelly. To them, Ye Lingyue wasn't even worth as much as a stray dog.

They held her arms and legs down, forcing the filthy incense ash into her mouth.

Just then, something round slipped down Ye Lingyue's throat along with the ash.

The moment it entered her stomach, a fiery heat ignited in her dantian.

A searing, unbearable heat—bone-deep and soul-scorching—spread rapidly, like her body was about to burn from the inside out.

Too hot… it hurt so much… Ye Lingyue clawed at her throat, as if trying to rip something out.

Even as her nails scratched bloody lines across her neck, the pain only worsened. Unable to endure it, she smashed her head against the incense cauldron.

Blood trickled down her forehead.

"Crap! Is she dead?" Wang Gui rushed over, alarmed. Ye Lingyue wasn't moving at all.

The other servants looked at each other in panic. Even if she was treated like trash, Ye Lingyue was still a legitimate daughter of the Ye family.

"What are you standing around for?! Go get the young master!" Wang Gui shouted. They scrambled and fled in a hurry.

In the now-silent hall, Ye Lingyue's small body curled up tightly.

The burning waves of heat continued to rise, crashing one after another.

"Mother…" she whimpered. No one answered.

Slowly, the heat began to fade, replaced by a twisting pain deep in her organs.

She didn't know how long it lasted—until suddenly, with a dull thud, something in her dantian exploded.

A flash of red light surged from within her body, spreading rapidly.

Her fingers twitched.

Then her eyes—once dull and empty—snapped open, now sharp and bright like morning stars.

The room around her came into focus. Ye Lingyue sat up slowly, her eyes gleaming with clarity.

In front of her was the solemn ancestral hall, filled with offerings and tablets of the Ye family's ancestors.

"I've… been reborn," she whispered, staring at her hands.

They were small and thin, covered in cuts and bruises—the body of a girl long bullied and neglected.

She stood unsteadily and tried to piece together the memories left behind. But the mind of a fool held only fragments—bits of names, places, pain.

It would take time to adjust.

She turned to leave—when a strange sound caught her ear.

Zzz… zzz…

She turned back. On the old incense cauldron, the blood from her earlier wound was moving—slowly seeping into the metal surface.

Ye Lingyue's blood ran cold, but her curiosity pulled her closer.

As soon as her fingers touched the cauldron, something unbelievable happened.

Whoosh—

The massive tripod, heavy enough to require three men to lift, dissolved into a stream of black light—and shot straight into her palm.

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