Chapter Three: Preparing for the Rain Before It Falls

Yang Xiao could not quite comprehend what had happened, but fragments of consciousness allowed him to recall something: when he crossed the Golden Core Tribulation, it seemed he had been swept into a mysterious portal, and after that, he lost all awareness. The next thing he knew, he had returned to a time six thousand years in the past.

In other words, the problem must have originated from that portal. But what sort of portal was it, capable of causing such a drastic alteration in time itself?

Yang Xiao simply could not make sense of it.

Spatial rifts were not unheard of; through bizarre tears in the fabric of space, one might enter a strange dimension or even traverse tens of thousands of miles in an instant. But a rift that could alter the flow of time—now that was truly uncanny.

Unable to unravel the mystery, Yang Xiao decided to let it go for now.

Once he confirmed that he had indeed returned to six thousand years before, he grew calm. Clearly, he had come back to the very start of his journey on the path of immortality. At this point, he was residing in a tiny sect called the Giant Spirit Sect, located in the obscure country of Yao on the western edge of the Holy King Continent. He was nothing more than an ordinary disciple.

“Senior Brother He, how many days have I been unconscious?” Yang Xiao asked He Ming.

“Oh, junior brother, you’ve been out for two days. You had a terrible fever—I was so worried. I went down the mountain to fetch some herbal medicine from a renowned physician, and only then did your illness ease. How are you feeling now? Any better?” He Ming inquired with concern.

“Thank you, Senior Brother He. If not for your care, I fear I might have been in real danger. You know, my aptitude for cultivation is poor; I have few real friends in the Giant Spirit Sect. The senior brothers who have progressed in their cultivation likely don’t care much for my wellbeing. Only you, senior brother, have helped me in my time of need. I will never forget your kindness,” Yang Xiao replied with heartfelt gratitude.

“Don’t speak like that, junior brother. My talent is not much better than yours—I’ve only cultivated one layer more, reaching the third level of the Spiritual Awareness Stage. Besides, you’re two years younger than me; it’s only a matter of time before you catch up. So don’t put so much pressure on yourself, and certainly don’t practice day and night without rest. The physician said your illness was mostly due to overwork, so don’t push yourself so hard in the future,” He Ming said earnestly, clearly regarding Yang Xiao as family. After all, both had left their homes and families from a young age; in the Giant Spirit Sect, they had come to rely on each other.

Another reason He Ming and Yang Xiao were so close was that they always ranked at the bottom among all the disciples in terms of cultivation. As a result, they naturally gravitated together, looking out for one another. Had they tried to befriend the more talented disciples, it was unlikely they would have even been acknowledged.

Yang Xiao nodded at He Ming, memories from the past surfacing in his heart. He recalled that when he was ten, Master Ling Feng of the Giant Spirit Sect had once passed through Yang Xiao’s town and, by chance, discovered Yang Xiao possessed a spiritual root, making him fit for the path of cultivation. Thus, Ling Feng took him as a disciple and brought him back to the sect. Yang Xiao’s parents, learning he was to study the Dao and pursue immortality, were overjoyed and entrusted him to Ling Feng without hesitation.

Yang Xiao spent six years in the Giant Spirit Sect. In the first year, he awakened his spiritual awareness and entered the first level, but from then on, his progress slowed to a crawl. After years of effort, he barely reached the second level and could progress no further. This greatly disappointed Master Ling Feng, who had expended rare elixirs and personal guidance to help Yang Xiao open his spiritual awareness, only to find him of mediocre talent, slow to improve. Ling Feng no longer wished to invest time and energy in him, eventually assigning him a remote hut to train alone, leaving him to his own devices. Even resources such as techniques and pills were withheld as much as possible.

For these reasons, Yang Xiao spent several years in a tiny wooden hut, visited only occasionally by He Ming.

It was during one such visit that He Ming discovered Yang Xiao’s illness and began to care for him, leading to the scene Yang Xiao had awoken to.

Indeed, Yang Xiao’s illness was due to his relentless cultivation—he had overexerted himself, weakening his body and inviting illness. His eagerness to advance was driven by a desire to earn the same resources as his fellow disciples and, more importantly, to gain the recognition and care of Master Ling Feng. In his still-young heart, this meant a great deal.

Yet, for all his diligence, Yang Xiao’s cultivation made little progress. This was not truly due to poor aptitude, but rather to practicing the wrong techniques—a realization that only dawned on him after he left the Giant Spirit Sect in his previous life. Had that not been so, he would never have reached such lofty heights in the end.

Now, Yang Xiao suddenly realized that being reborn might not be a misfortune at all—it could be a golden opportunity. For example, in his previous life, he had always believed his slow progress was due to poor talent, but with the wisdom of his past life, he now understood the real reason. Moreover, he remembered several powerful cultivation techniques and possessed a wealth of experience to draw upon. With this, his progress was bound to be swift.

If given such a chance to change his destiny, then rebirth was the greatest fortune of all.

Having thought it all through, Yang Xiao felt newfound confidence in his rebirth and began to outline a general plan for his future path.

Though he still appeared a youth of sixteen or seventeen, having lived more than six thousand years, his demeanor could no longer be that of the child he seemed.

“Senior Brother He, is this the twentieth year of the Yuanwu era?” Yang Xiao asked unexpectedly, both to confirm his rebirth and for other reasons.

“Yes, this is indeed the twentieth year of Yuanwu. Why do you ask, junior brother?” He Ming replied, puzzled.

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to confirm,” Yang Xiao answered.

It was indeed the twentieth year of Yuanwu; there was no doubt now that he had been reborn. Moreover, Yang Xiao knew that in a few months, a great upheaval would strike the Giant Spirit Sect. Among other things, his master Ling Feng would pass away, and several nearby sects led by the Black Tortoise Sect would attack, redrawing the local power structure. The Giant Spirit Sect itself might even face annihilation.

Armed with advance knowledge, Yang Xiao naturally hoped to change the course of events through his efforts, for he did not wish to see the sect he had joined destroyed overnight.

How much could he change? That would depend on what he did next. But as things stood, with only the second level of spiritual awareness, he could do little—he might even struggle just to survive the coming chaos.

With only a few short months, there was little hope of greatly improving his cultivation. All he could do was try his utmost.

“Junior brother, what do you mean by confirming?” He Ming asked, still perplexed as Yang Xiao drifted into thought.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just forgot and wanted to double-check,” Yang Xiao replied quickly, covering his true intentions.