Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

That year, Dongzhou was the stage for prodigies.

Countless geniuses emerged like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, seizing opportunities in various ruins and secret realms, creating astonishing achievements. Throughout the martial arts world, in teahouses and taverns, the names and deeds of these prodigies were widely circulated.

Ye Xingchen

Ye Xingchen was the first to become famous throughout the world.

The fifteen-year-old boy was tall and slender, with a handsome face but a pale complexion. He always wore white, and a faint melancholy lingered between his brows, as if he were carrying a secret unknown to others.

There are many legends about him.

Some say he came from humble beginnings and was a useless person destined to die young; others say he received the inheritance of an ancient powerful being and was transformed overnight; still others say he is the chosen one of destiny, destined to shine brightly in this golden age.

Regardless of the truth, Ye Xingchen's achievements are undeniable.

half year ago.

Deep within the Yunmeng Marsh, an ancient ruin suddenly appeared. Rays of light shone forth, and spiritual energy soared into the sky, startling martial artists within a thousand miles.

Once the news spread, countless experts flocked to the area.

Three renowned masters at the peak of the Grandmaster level, more than ten powerful individuals at the early and middle stages of the Grandmaster level, and countless Innate Realm martial artists—everyone wanted a piece of the pie.

The ruins are fraught with danger and heavily fortified.

Three days later, only one person walked out alive.

A fifteen-year-old boy, dressed in white, with a faint melancholy between his brows.

When he emerged from the ruins, he held a sword in his hand—an ancient sword, entirely black, with starlight swirling across its blade. His aura was more than twice as strong as before he entered, as if he had been reborn.

Behind him, the ruins collapsed with a crash, turning into a wasteland.

"Where are the people inside?" someone asked him.

The boy didn't answer, but just glanced at the person indifferently.

That one glance sent the questioner plummeting into an ice cave, his legs going weak and barely able to stand.

Later, some fearless individuals ventured into the ruins and discovered the bodies of two peak Grandmasters—dead under the remnant's protective seal, their deaths gruesome. The third peak Grandmaster, however, vanished without a trace.

Some say that the man was personally killed by Ye Xingchen, and his body was never found.

Regardless of the truth, Ye Xingchen's name will henceforth resound throughout the Eastern Continent.

The name "Star Prince" began to circulate in teahouses and taverns, becoming the dream lover of countless young girls and the idol of countless young boys.

Nanzhou, a small town.

Ye Xingchen sat in a dilapidated teahouse, with a bowl of cold tea in front of him.

He was dressed in white, his face handsome but with a hint of paleness.

A faint melancholy lingered between his brows, as if he were carrying a secret unknown to others. On the ring finger of his right hand, he wore an antique ring, which subtly shimmered with light.

"Young Master," an aged voice echoed in his mind, audible only to him, "your name has spread throughout the Eastern Continent. All the major powers are watching you: the Azure Dragon Society, the Azure Dragon Temple, the Imperial Court... they are all investigating you."

Ye Xingchen picked up the teacup, took a small sip, and looked calm and composed.

"Let them investigate," he said, his voice low but carrying a composure beyond his years. "So what if they find out?"

"Aren't you afraid of the trouble?"

"Trouble?" Ye Xingchen's lips curled up slightly, a hint of coldness in his smile. "From the day I embarked on this path, trouble has never left me."

The old man was silent for a moment, then asked, "Where to next?"

Ye Xingchen put down his teacup and looked out the window.

Outside the window, a bluestone path leads into the distance. At the end of the path, a hazy mist obscures the way forward.

"Go west," he said. "I heard the Green Dragon Society and the Green Dragon Temple have been at odds for a year. There's going to be a good show there."

"Do you want to participate?"

Ye Xingchen did not answer. His gaze pierced through the mist and landed on the distant horizon.

"I want to become stronger," he said, his voice soft yet as firm as iron, "strong enough that no one can take what's mine away."

Outside the window, an autumn wind suddenly rises, swirling up a few withered leaves.

Ye Xingchen stood up, tossed a few copper coins onto the table, and turned to leave the teahouse.

Clad in white as snow, his silhouette was solitary yet resolute.

No one knows what kind of storm this fifteen-year-old boy will stir up on the land of Dongzhou.

No one knew that he would eventually meet that person—

That equally young, equally powerful, and equally mysterious leader of the Azure Dragon Society.

The wheel of fate is slowly turning.

But the storm is getting closer and closer.

Ninth Prince Qin Lin'an

The imperial city, deep within the imperial palace.

The Ninth Prince, Qin Lin'an, is fourteen years old this year.

He was the youngest son of Emperor Qin Muzhi, born to a lowly palace maid who died shortly after giving birth to him. Qin Lin'an grew up in the palace but was out of place among its inhabitants.

Because he is "not smart".

To be precise, everyone thought he was a bit silly.

He spoke slowly, often lost in thought, sometimes staring blankly into thin air, muttering to himself, his words incomprehensible. He learned to read and write much slower than other princes, and showed little talent in martial arts, barely reaching the Innate Realm at the age of fourteen—practically the worst among the royal children.

People in the palace privately called him "the foolish prince".

The eunuchs and palace maids were not respectful to him, and sometimes even openly scorned him. The other princes didn't take him seriously either, and when they occasionally bullied him, it was just for amusement.

Qin Lin'an never got angry.

When he was bullied, he would just chuckle awkwardly and then continue staring blankly. When mocked, he would simply scratch his head, as if he hadn't understood at all.

Emperor Qin Muzhi didn't care much about his foolish son, only instructing people not to let him go hungry or get cold, and ignored everything else.

Qin Lin'an lived quietly in a corner of the palace, like a wild grass that no one cared about.

but.

Was the "fool" who survived to the age of fourteen in the deep palace really a fool?

The palace was rife with infighting, with princes vying for power and concubines engaging in scheming against each other. Over the years, quite a few princes and princesses had died young, and countless noblewomen had mysteriously "died of illness."

Qin Lin'an, the ninth prince who had no mother, no power, and was not favored, lived peacefully for fourteen years.

No one harmed him, no one targeted him.

Because he was "stupid," so stupid that everyone thought he wasn't worth taking action against.

Is this a coincidence?

Or is it that this seemingly simple-minded boy used his "foolishness" to build the strongest wall around himself?

Nobody knows the answer.

Only occasionally, late at night, if a discerning eye were to observe closely, would they notice a solitary lamp always lit in the Ninth Prince's palace. Under the lamp, the boy, who appeared dull and dazed during the day, had clear and profound eyes as he silently perused some ancient books of unknown origin.

A faint smile would occasionally appear at the corners of his mouth.