After the first successful refinement of that blessed body, Han Tianyi felt it.
The change was faint, almost a whisper, but it was real.
He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes closed, tracing the sensation through his flesh.
His breathing slowed until it was nearly silent. Unlike the elixirs of his youth that had passed through him like water, this new warmth was sticking to his bones.
"I can feel it," he muttered. "Something is finally different."
A cold light flashed in his eyes.
"I'll risk everything on this. If I can't cultivate, I might as well be dead."
His voice was flat, but the resolve behind it was terrifying. To him, a life without power was a life without meaning.
This was his final act of defiance. If the heavens wanted to mock him, he would rather end his own life than live as their punchline.
The heavens had been cruel.
They gave him a mind that could see the path to the very top, a genius that made even the clan elders look like children. By five years old, he was certain he would reach a realm no one had ever touched.
But the higher he flew, the harder the fall.
He was once the Han Clan's shining hope, the child who would make them gods.
Then the "fairness" of the heavens struck.
In exchange for his mind, they gave him a body that was little more than a cage.
But Han Tianyi wasn't a man who accepted "fairness."
How could he give up? He hadn't even finished fighting yet.
---
After the first refinement, Han Tianyi went straight to the red-light district.
From that night on, he was there every single evening.
He wore the most expensive robes and threw gold around like it was trash. He bought wine for everyone in the hall, hired five beauties at once, and always picked the most expensive escort.
He tipped way too much and laughed too loudly.
He acted exactly like a brainless rich kid with nothing to do but waste money.
Soon, everyone in the district knew his name.
The girls loved him.
The madams bowed to him.
The tavern owners treated him like a walking gold mine.
To everyone watching, he was just a reckless young man drunk on wealth and women.
When he acted "drunk," he would "accidentally" brag to the crowd:
"I’m from a respectable clan… I only came here because I heard the beauties in this city were the best…"
People just laughed.
They thought he was just another rich fool bragging about a family he was too drunk to name.
Just like that, Han Tianyi trashed his own reputation.
To the people in the city, he was just a pathetic young master who moved here to waste money. Even the reports in the black market described him the same way.
But every night, the moment he stepped back into his estate, the drunken smile disappeared.
"For now..." he muttered, his voice cold. "I won’t be a suspect for the Luo Clan heir’s disappearance."
Everything he did was part of his careful planning.
He knew that if a child vanished the moment a mysterious stranger arrived, the Luo Clan would look for him first. So, he hid himself under a layer of noise, wine, and a bad reputation.
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He had already paid one million gold coins to the Black Market Pavilion to shut them up about the refiner. That money wasn't just a bribe—it was a threat.
In the mortal world, nobody could just throw away a million gold coins.
Only someone connected to the Immortal Clan would be that crazy.
The message was clear: Don't touch me.
The black market leader understood perfectly. They would much rather let a local "respectable clan" like the Luo Clan suffer than risk offending the Immortal Realm.
After all, a single Immortal could erase their entire world if they got offended.
---
The Luo Clan’s fury shook the foundations of the city as they hunted for their lost heir.
Soon, the Sheng followed. Then the Mei. One by one, the great lineages began to fracture.
Yet not a single eye turned toward Han Tianyi.
Every investigation yielded the same mundane trail: a repetitive cycle of wine houses, brothels, and his own disheveled courtyard.
Even the information brokers in the black market confirmed the same dull reality.
To the world, he was a waste—a man drowning himself in shallow pleasures while others cultivated their souls.
But beneath that mask of decadence, he remained invisible.
Six geniuses with "Blessed Constitution" had vanished in a single month.
As panic gripped the mortal world, the respectable mortal clans retreated behind sealed gates, desperately clutching what remained of their legacies.
The air in the hidden chamber grew heavy as the assassins hesitated.
The risk had become a localized storm, and even for a high price, few were willing to step back into the lightning—even with Han Tianyi’s gold on the table.
“You’re rejecting a commission over the cost?” Han Tianyi’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence as he looked down at the masked man who had delivered the sixth child. His gaze remained glacial. “You dare speak of coins in my presence?”
A faint, dangerous smile tugged at his lips.
“Tell your master to finish the job. Find the rest. I will raise the bounty tenfold—one hundred thousand gold taels per head.”
The masked messenger froze for a heartbeat before vanishing into the shadows to report.
When the figure reached the inner sanctum and delivered the word, the entire hall fell into a suffocating silence.
One hundred thousand gold taels per head.
Not silver. Not copper.
Pure gold.
For a sect that lived by the blade, that sum was enough to buy a kingdom’s loyalty.
Four more children meant four hundred thousand gold taels. No matter how suicidal the task, the greed was now absolute.
The scales tipped entirely in Han Tianyi’s favor, and the sect’s highest-ranking shadows were unleashed.
---
Inside Shen Tong’s refining room, the sixth young master’s screams echoed against the cold stone.
To Han Tianyi, the sound was nothing more than a pleasing melody.
He watched with a detached calm as the child was slowly rendered down within the cauldron, a faint smile playing on his lips.
'This Shen Tong is surprisingly capable,' he mused. 'To think he has successfully refined all six subjects I brought him.'
As the fires dimmed, the process reached its peak. Shen Tong lifted the still-warm pill from the furnace and offered it to Han Tianyi.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Han Tianyi swallowed it.
Shen Tong asked no questions.
He existed for a single purpose: to refine whatever was placed before him in exchange for gold.
He cared nothing for the ingredients or their origin. So long as the payment arrived, the screams meant nothing.
With six children refined, he now held six hundred thousand gold taels, plus a daily stipend of fifty gold coins just for remaining on call.
To a demonic cultivator, this was a fortune beyond his wildest dreams.
More importantly, Shen Tong was certain of one truth.
Han Tianyi was no mere mortal.
What twenty-year-old could discard mountains of gold as if it were common dust?
To Shen Tong, there was only one logical answer: the youth must belong to a hidden Immortal Clan.
Betraying such a man was a debt he couldn't afford to pay.
Even if he turned informant for the "righteous" clans, what would he gain?
Would they reward a demonic practitioner with a million gold coins? Hardly.
They would more likely execute him to cleanse the world of his filth.
Besides, what could he even confess? That he was the one who had turned their precious heirs into medicine?
It was better to stay silent. So, Shen Tong kept his mouth shut.
---
Another month passed.
The tenth refinement was finished.
As Han Tianyi swallowed the essence of the tenth gifted child, something inside him finally shattered.
It wasn't a feeling of flesh breaking, but of stone.
Something inside him finally shattered.
Not bone.
Not flesh.
Something deeper.
The invisible cage wrapped around his body for twenty years finally cracked.
“HAHAHAHA! FINALLY!”
His laughter filled the room, so wild and jagged it made even Shen Tong flinch.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Han Tianyi roared, his eyes bloodshot. “I’ll defy the heavens if I have to!”
He wasn’t talking to Shen Tong. He was mocking his younger self—the boy who thought he had been discarded by fate.
This was his proof. He had been right all along.
The laughter didn't last.
Before he could even enjoy the feeling of his new power, his residence was surrounded. Heavy auras pressed down on the building from every side.
“You demon! Give us back our children!”
Shouts erupted outside as the great clans formed a tight circle around the estate.
Han Tianyi walked out calmly.
He’d already gotten what he came for; this "mortal world" held nothing left for him.
“Who are you people?” he asked, looking bored.
“You... how can you be so shameless!”
A woman stepped forward, screaming accusations.
The mother of one of the ten children now inside his stomach.
Han Tianyi didn't flinch.
“You dare accuse me? On what grounds? Search the place. If you find nothing, don't expect me to let this go.”
His sheer arrogance made them hesitate.
'Could we have the wrong man? Why is he so calm?'
They searched every inch.
Of course, they found nothing.
The children were gone—turned into medicine and consumed. They found five servants, two hired guards, and Shen Tong, who had already hidden his cauldron.
There wasn't a single drop of blood to be found.
“Now what?” Han Tianyi’s face went cold. “How are you going to pay for wasting my time?”
The clan leaders stiffened.
“We... we apologize,” one said, his voice trembling. “It’s just... the disappearances started the moment you arrived in the city...”
Han Tianyi cut him off with a roar.
“AND WHAT WOULD I DO WITH YOUR CHILDREN? You think I ate them? GET OUT! My father was right—I should never have treated mortals as equals!”
That one word "mortals" made their blood run cold.
Han Tianyi pulled out a jade plaque. His name and clan mark glowed with a sharp, immortal aura.
“I am Han Tianyi of the Han Clan. You dare accuse a righteous scion of such filth? This isn't over.”
The color drained from their faces. The same leaders who came to kill him were suddenly on their knees, begging for forgiveness.
“Get lost,” Han Tianyi spat.
The clans scrambled away, terrified of what this "Young Master" might do to their families.
As their figures vanished into the distance, a slow, thin smile crept onto Han Tianyi’s face.
He paid Shen Tong the rest of the gold and kicked him out. Then, he locked the gates, cutting himself off from the world for good.
---
The years blurred together behind those silent walls.
Han Tianyi didn't bother with the local manuals; they were trash compared to what he carried in his mind.
He spent his days dissecting the ancient scriptures he’d memorized from the Han Clan’s forbidden treasury and the Yu Clan’s demonic records.
He tore them apart and reconstructed them, piece by piece, until he had forged a single, distorted path: a Heaven-tier cultivation method.
With his cursed body finally shattered, he began to cultivate.
Four years passed.
By the end, he managed to condense a spiritual root.
It was the lowest grade possible—the absolute limit of this world's laws.
To any true cultivator, it was a joke. To him, it was a miracle.
It was the first time the chains of fate had actually felt loose.
At twenty-five, he was done with this place.
He traveled alone to a distant mountain where a branch of his family was said to be.
Standing at the summit, the cold wind biting through his thin robes, he looked up at the endless, indifferent sky.
"So this is the justice of the heavens?"
Han Tianyi laughed softly, the sound brittle in the cold wind.
"You gave me a mind that could see the summit… then crippled the body meant to climb it."
His fingers curled slowly into fists.
"You wanted me to accept that."
He looked up at the endless sky.
"No."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"If the path is blocked, I’ll carve a new one through bone."
A thin smile appeared.
"And when I reach the peak… I’ll prove the mistake was never me."
