A max-level player in Jade Dynasty: Awakening the Innate Dao at the start.

Inside the Jade Purity Hall, sandalwood incense emitted straight plumes of blue smoke, only to be dispersed three inches above the ground by the cold wind blowing in from outside.

The wind carried the biting chill of Qingyun Mountain's peak, along with a faint, almost imperceptible, smell of blood drifting up from the foot of the mountain—the direction of Caomiao Village.

Zhang Xiaofan knelt on the cold, hard jade floor, his knees aching from the roughness.

He kept his head down, his vision focused only on the seven pairs of cloud-patterned ascending shoes in front of him, each with a different design.

White, black, and blue shoes, their toes silently facing him, like seven small mountains pressing down on him.

Explain yourself.

The sound descended from above, rolling across the thirty-six dragon-carved pillars in the empty hall, each word heavy and striking the heart.

That was Dao Xuan Zhenren, the head of the Qingyun Sect.

Zhang Xiaofan didn't need to look up to feel that gaze—like a bottomless, cold pool, calm yet able to see through all your hidden thoughts.

Beside him, Lin Jingyu slammed his forehead heavily against the jade brick with a "thud".

"Please, Immortal Master, make the decision!"

The boy's hoarse voice almost shattered the solemnity of the hall.

His shoulders were trembling violently, not from fear, but from overwhelming grief and indignation.

Zhang Xiaofan caught a glimpse of his clenched fist out of the corner of his eye; his knuckles were white from gripping it so tightly.

His fingernails dug into his palm, and the blood that seeped out left a few dark red spots on the white jade brick.

"Caomiao Village...42 households, 176 people..."

Lin Jingyu's words were like a dull knife cutting flesh.

"Last night, shadows... shadows everywhere... Uncle Wang lost half his head."

Grandma Li had a hole in her chest... My dad stuffed me into the cellar.

I heard... I heard the sound of his neck being snapped... *crack*...

The air inside the hall seemed to freeze instantly.

Zhang Xiaofan felt a churning in his stomach.

This grotesqueness wasn't feigned; this twelve-year-old body retained the most primal and terrifying memories:

The stench of blood filled my nostrils, mixed with the smell of burning.

A short, agonizing scream, followed by sudden, deathly silence;

The firelight turned the sky red, and dark shadows darted about in the light, like a group of deadly ghosts.

But deeper still, the bewilderment of another soul is churning.

His name is Zhang Wei. Just three hours ago, he was in front of his computer, frantically trying to figure out how to launch his project tomorrow.

With a blink of an eye, he became Zhang Xiaofan in "Zhu Xian," an orphan with dull talent and a tragic fate.

Biyao blocked the sword and her soul was scattered; her master and mistress died in battle; Lu Xueqi waited bitterly for a hundred years...

These scenes spun wildly in his mind like a revolving lantern, making his temples throb.

"These demonic cult members are utterly devoid of conscience!"

A furious shout suddenly exploded out.

Shang Zhengliang slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacups to rattle and spill the emerald green tea, leaving a deep stain on the rosewood table.

The head of Chaoyang Peak was so angry that his face turned red, his beard trembled, and the air around him distorted slightly—that was because his spiritual energy was overflowing out of control.

"Senior Brother Daoxuan, this matter must not be left unresolved!"

"Of course." Dao Xuan Zhenren's voice remained steady, but all the candles in the hall dimmed slightly.

His gaze fell on the two boys. "Right now, let's settle these two children first."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Xiaofan felt at least six icy auras sweep over his body.

It felt like being doused with a bucket of ice water, or like countless fine needles pricking your pores.

He shivered, instinctively trying to shrink back, but found himself unable to move—

Those divine senses were incredibly domineering, penetrating his skin, flesh, and bones, probing back and forth within his meridians, leaving no stone unturned.

Lin Jingyu, standing nearby, let out a muffled groan, and a faint blue light rose from his body.

That is the spontaneous reaction of spiritual energy when a person with exceptional talent is being examined.

"Um?"

"This child..."

Several surprised voices rang out almost simultaneously.

Zhang Xiaofan knew exactly what was going on.

The original text clearly states that Lin Jingyu is a once-in-a-millennium cultivation prodigy with an astonishingly good aptitude.

As for himself... he felt those divine senses circulate within his body, pausing briefly.

Then they withdrew as decisively as the tide receding, leaving with a somewhat...disappointing feeling.

really.

Dao Xuan Zhenren spoke up: "Jing Yu is a rare talent with extraordinary talent and naturally unblocked spiritual meridians."

The groundwork has been laid.

Zhang Xiaofan lowered his head, a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"A person of great talent should not be overlooked."

Shang Zhengliang spoke first, his voice burning with fervor.

"Senior Brother Daoxuan, our Chaoyang Peak has been so small in recent years that we need such promising talents to carry on our lineage."

I feel a connection with this child, perhaps—"

"We clicked?"

Daoist Tianyun chuckled twice.

"Senior Brother Shang, you already have nine personally taught disciples. How can you say that your numbers are too few?"

My Sunset Peak is truly desolate; the number of disciples across three generations can be counted on one hand.

"Junior Brother Tianyun is wrong."

Tian Buyi casually interjected.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word struck the ground like a heavy weight.

"When it comes to having a small population, who can compare to my Dazhu Peak?"

Including myself, there are only eight of us, barely breathing.

The air went still for a moment.

Just then, the Taoist Cangsong spoke, his voice like an icicle, cold and sharp:

"Since Junior Brother Tian is short of people, that's perfect."

He paused, then turned his gaze to Zhang Xiaofan, who was kneeling there. "This child shall belong to your Dazhu Peak."

The flesh on Tian Buyi's face twitched almost imperceptibly.

Zhang Xiaofan didn't need to look to know what Tian Buyi's expression was at that moment—it was described in the original work as if someone had forced a fly into his mouth, something he couldn't spit out or swallow.

The chief of Dazhu Peak was stubborn and strong-willed his whole life, and he hated being given charity, especially by his mortal enemy, Cangsong.

"Senior Brother Cangsong is quite generous."

Tian Buyi's voice turned eight degrees colder, "Since when did it become your turn to decide how this is allocated?"

"With the sect leader here, the sect leader will naturally make the decision."

Cangsong completely ignored the question and directly steered the conversation toward Daoxuan.

"But in my opinion, good talent needs a strict teacher."

Jingyu is a child with extraordinary talent, but he needs a lot of hard work to be properly nurtured before he can become a useful person.

"My Dragon Head Peak has the strictest discipline, and its martial arts are based on a powerful and vigorous style, which suits him perfectly."

The words were beautifully spoken, but the subtext was clear to everyone:

I took the best seedlings, and gave the mediocre one to you, Tian Buyi, and you still owe me a favor.

Tian Buyi clenched his fist in his sleeve.

Zhang Xiaofan, with his sharp ears, heard the extremely faint sound of bones rubbing together, like a withered branch breaking under the weight of snow in winter.

"alright."

The words "Dao Xuan Zhenren" suppressed all the undercurrents.

His gaze swept over the crowd, finally settling on the two boys:

"Jingyu entered Dragon Head Peak and began cultivating under the tutelage of his junior brother Cangsong."

Xiao Fan entered Dazhu Peak and was taught by Junior Brother Tian.

A hammer is fixed.

Tian Buyi remained silent.

He stood up, flicked his sleeve, and his Taoist robe made a sharp "whoosh" sound as he walked out of the Jade Purity Hall without looking back.

That silhouette clearly conveyed three words: dissatisfaction.

As Zhang Xiaofan was led out of the main hall by Song Daren, a mountain wind suddenly rushed over, chilling him to the bone.

He shivered and looked up at the sky.

The sky above Qingyun Mountain was blindingly blue, with a few wisps of clouds stretched out thin and straight, as if someone had drawn them with their fingernails.

In the distance, a rainbow bridge spans two peaks, with a sea of ​​clouds churning beneath it, shimmering with golden light like fish scales when illuminated by the sun.

"Hold on tight."

Song Daren's voice brought him back to reality. This senior disciple of Dazhu Peak was tall and burly, with a square face and a kind and honest appearance.

He summoned a celestial sword—a broad-bladed sword with an earthy yellow glow, the words "Ten Tigers" engraved on its blade.

The sword hung three feet off the ground. Song Daren grabbed Zhang Xiaofan by the back of the neck and lifted him onto the sword like a chick.

"First time flying on a sword?" Song Daren asked.

Zhang Xiaofan nodded, his throat dry.

"Then..."

Song Daren grinned, "If you're going to throw up, throw up somewhere far away."

The sword moved.

It didn't accelerate gradually, but rather with a loud "boom," like a fully drawn bowstring suddenly being released.

Zhang Xiaofan felt an immense force pulling him backward, as if his internal organs were about to be squeezed out of his throat.

The scene before my eyes receded rapidly; the upturned eaves of the Jade Purity Hall instantly shrank to the size of a matchbox.

The rainbow bridge became a thin line, and a thick sea of ​​clouds rushed towards us, the cool moisture covering our faces.

The wind howled in my ears.

He gripped Song Daren's Taoist robe tightly, his knuckles turning white from clenching.

Looking down, the earth and mountains were rapidly shrinking, rivers became silver threads, and forests turned into moss.

A strong feeling of weightlessness gripped my heart, and my stomach churned violently.

But the next second, a strange pleasure surged up my spine.

This is sword control.

This is the world of cultivation.

Amidst the howling wind, the plot of the original work surged forth once more:

The Caomiao Village massacre was the result of Cangsong's sneak attack on Puzhi;

He would become a disciple of Dazhu Peak, and in the early stages he would suffer a lot of cold treatment;

Then she met Biyao, the Demonic Sect attacked, the Heavenly Treasure Vault, the Immortal Slaughtering Sword Formation...

Every turning point was steeped in blood and tears.

And what can he, an ordinary transmigrator, do to change all of this?

Do you know the plot by heart? With the flapping of a butterfly's wings, can things really turn out the same way?

Through sheer hard work? Tian Buyi initially didn't like him at all.

They only teach the most basic techniques and don't provide any resources, so all your efforts will be in vain.

Despair, like ice water, slowly seeped into my chest.

At this very moment—

[The Dao initiated the primordial chaos.]

A voice resounded directly in the depths of his mind.

It wasn't something I heard; it was something that crashed in.

Cold, mechanical, devoid of any emotion, yet carrying an ancient, primordial pressure.

Zhang Xiaofan froze.

[A compatible soul detected, resonance with the laws of the universe... Awakening conditions met... Activating the 'Innate Dao Body'...]

A sharp pain struck.

It's not just physical pain; every cell is being torn apart and reorganized.

The bones made a cracking sound, like bamboo shoots sprouting after a spring rain;

Something scalding hot was surging wildly in my meridians, like molten lava;

A burst of golden light suddenly erupted from his dantian, the light even penetrating his skin and flesh.

It overflowed from his pores, turning his entire body a pale gold color.

"Xiao Fan? What's wrong—"

Song Daren sensed something was wrong, turned around, and the words stuck in his throat.

He saw that the child's eyes were tightly closed, his brows were furrowed, and the veins on his forehead were bulging, as if he was enduring great pain.

This isn't right.

He instinctively wanted to stop the sword and check.

Zhang Xiaofan could no longer hear the sounds outside.

His consciousness sank into a chaotic darkness.

The innate Dao body.

A perfect foundation for cultivation, born at the dawn of the universe, with 100% affinity for spiritual energy, no bottlenecks in comprehending the laws, and an astonishingly fast cultivation speed.

In the world of Jade Dynasty, this is a talent that starts at max level. Lin Jingyu and Lu Xueqi are not even worthy of carrying his shoes.

Even more frightening is that this body retains the original character settings—

He possessed the Great Brahma Prajna of Tianyin Temple, which is the highest Buddhist teaching.

With an innate Daoist physique combined with the supreme Buddhist cultivation techniques, the potential of dual cultivation of Buddhism and Taoism can be unleashed...

The golden light gradually faded.

The excruciating pain receded like the tide, replaced by an unprecedented clarity and understanding.

Zhang Xiaofan opened his eyes and found that the world had changed.

He could see the path of the wind—no longer a blurry flow of air, but strands of pale blue silk, interwoven into a net.

He could see the trembling of every water droplet in the sea of ​​clouds, and the tiny insect crawling on the back of a leaf in the forest below.

They could even "sense" the subtle frequency of the fire flickering in a Taoist temple on a mountain peak a hundred miles away, as an old Taoist was refining elixirs.

My five senses were heightened.

No, it's a sixth sense.

He clearly sensed the omnipresent "Daoist rhythm" in the world, beating as steadily and vastly as a pulse.

"Xiao Fan, you..." Song Daren stared at him, his eyes full of surprise and uncertainty. "What just happened?"

Zhang Xiaofan took a deep breath.

The mountain breeze filled my chest, carrying the fresh scent of bamboo leaves, the earthy aroma, and the mist from the distant waterfall... each scent was clearly discernible.

He suppressed the surging joy in his heart, and forced a look of bewilderment typical of a twelve-year-old:

"I...I don't know, I just suddenly felt really dizzy."

We have to play dumb.

We have to play dumb.

Such a heaven-defying talent as an innate Dao body, once exposed...

What awaits him is not some special training, but rather the covetousness, imprisonment, or even possession by various forces.

He was well aware of the filth and depravity of some members of the Qingyun Sect, despite their outward appearance as the leaders of the righteous path.

Song Daren frowned, looked him up and down for a long time, and finally shook his head:

"Perhaps it's my first time flying on a sword, and my body can't handle it. Hold on tight, we're almost there."

The sword began to dive downwards.

Passing through layers of clouds, a verdant mountain range came into view.

That's Dazhu Peak, covered with bamboo. When the wind blows, the bamboo sea undulates, creating towering green waves.

Scattered around the mountainside are several courtyards with white walls and black tiles, simple and even somewhat rudimentary.

Shoujing Hall.

The main hall of Dazhu Peak has an elegant name, but it's actually just a large bamboo house.

When Song Daren landed with Zhang Xiaofan, a group of people were already standing at the entrance.

Tian Buyi stood there with a dark expression, his hands behind his back, like a door god.

Standing beside him was a beautiful woman, her black hair styled in a bun, dressed in an elegant silk dress, her gentle features revealing a touch of heroism.

Su Ru, the former genius of Xiaozhu Peak, and Tian Buyi's wife.

Further on, five men of varying heights and builds stood in a row.

The Taoist robes were worn crookedly; some were picking their noses, others were yawning.

Their common characteristic is that they all seem to be not very smart.

The only bright spot was the little girl next to Su Ru.

At eleven or twelve years old, dressed in red like a ball of fire, her ponytail was tied very high.

A pair of bright, dark eyes darted around, curiously sizing up Zhang Xiaofan.

Tian Ling'er, Zhang Xiaofan's first love in the original novel, and also his senior sister who later died in his arms.

"Master, Mistress," Song Daren bowed respectfully, "Junior Brother has arrived."

Tian Buyi snorted and glanced at Zhang Xiaofan as if he were an eyesore.

He turned and walked into the house, leaving behind the words, "Come in."

The Shoujing Hall is simply furnished. In the center hangs a calligraphy scroll with just one character, "Dao," written in a vigorous and powerful style.

Below the words was a grand chair, which Tian Buyi sat down with an air of authority.

Su Ru sat to the side, while the other disciples stood on either side.

Song Daren brought over a cup of tea and handed it to Zhang Xiaofan.

The teacup was warm; it was white porcelain with no particular pattern.

The tea soup was clear and bright, with a few tea leaves sinking to the bottom of the cup, unfurling into tiny emerald green boats.

Steam rose in wisps, carrying the unique aroma of roasted bamboo.

"Kneel down," Song Daren whispered a reminder.

Zhang Xiaofan, holding the tea, bent his knees and knelt before Tian Buyi.

The bamboo floor was hard and cold, and it felt rough against my bones through my thin trousers.

He raised the teacup, his arm steady and without trembling.

"Disciple Zhang Xiaofan humbly requests Master to accept him as a disciple."

The voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

Tian Buyi stared at him without saying a word for a full three breaths.

The hall was so quiet that you could hear the rustling of bamboo leaves in the wind outside the door.

The senior students looked at each other and exchanged knowing glances.

Is Master about to get angry?

Finally, Tian Buyi reached out and took the cup of tea.

He didn't drink it; he simply placed the cup on the coffee table next to him with a soft "tap."

"From this day forward, you will be the eighth disciple of Dazhu Peak."

Tian Buyi's voice was flat and indifferent, revealing no emotion.

"Those who cultivate the Tao value their character the most."

It doesn't matter if someone is less talented or a little slow-witted, but if they are dishonest or cunning...

He paused, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"Although Dazhufeng is a small place, its rules are strict."

Zhang Xiaofan bowed down, his forehead touching the ground: "Disciple will remember Master's teachings."

As he kowtowed, a very faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Is he dishonest? Is he cunning and deceitful?

No.

In this life, he will rely on his innate Daoist body to cultivate both Buddhism and Taoism, and shatter his predetermined destiny with a single step.

Biyao will not die, her master and mistress will not die, and Tian Ling'er will not die.

He wants to correct all those regrets and grievances, one by one.

The blood feud in Caomiao Village has been avenged.

The traitor within the Qingyun Sect must be caught.

The five volumes of the Heavenly Book have been collected.

And then there's... that Immortal-Slaying Sword, which is said to be able to slay immortals and destroy gods.

He slowly straightened up, his gaze calmly sweeping over everyone in the hall:

Tian Buyi with a displeased expression, the gentle Su Ru, the pretty and lively Tian Ling'er, and the honest and reliable Song Daren.

And then there are those five senior brothers who don't seem very reliable.

Dazhu Peak.

The place where all stories begin.

This time, however, the beginning is no longer a story of a loser struggling.

He's a max-level player, bringing his character back to the beginner's village.

Outside the gate, the mountain wind sweeps across the boundless bamboo forest, stirring up thousands of layers of green waves, the sound of the waves like thunder, rolling away into the distance.