Chapter One: Raising a Divine Beast in the Courtyard

Tianwu Realm.

In the southern lands of Nanyi, within the nation of Anluan, there lay a secluded little mountain village on the outskirts of Chuwind City.

Zhu Xiaoyuan emerged slowly from his courtyard, holding a bowl of jade-green porcelain. Within it was fragrant, fresh feed, and as his lips moved, the free-range chickens in the yard all came running.

He first scattered some of the feed on the ground for the chickens, then walked to the pond to toss out the remainder.

Having finished this task, he made his way to a patch of garden yet to be cultivated and began to till the earth and pull weeds.

Before long, sweat beaded his brow. Taking a break, he wiped his forehead in the gazebo, eyes drifting to the branches of peach trees heavy with ripening fruit, a faint smile curling his lips.

In truth, Zhu Xiaoyuan was not a native of the Tianwu Realm, but a man from Earth who had crossed over into this world. By some unfathomable twist of fate, he had found himself in this land where only the strong survived and the weak were trampled underfoot.

Here, if one's strength was sufficient, one could move mountains and fill seas, shift the very stars, even attain immortality.

Naturally, Zhu Xiaoyuan yearned for such opportunities. He had once participated in the side examinations of a sect in the southern lands, but the tests revealed his body was useless for cultivation.

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm him, his golden finger—his system—manifested.

He had thought he would ascend effortlessly, dominating eternity, but the system was nothing if not treacherous. It required him to complete seven hundred and seventy-seven tasks before the path of supreme cultivation would open, and only when all tasks were fulfilled would he become truly invincible.

Yet the system’s missions were the very definition of exasperating.

He was to raise chickens and ducks—wild birds tamed from the mountains—and ensure their offspring. He had to dig a pond and raise fish from fry to adulthood. He was to clear land, plant peach trees until the entire yard bloomed and bore fruit. He had to dig a well for personal use. He was to till the earth and create a fertile vegetable garden.

In short, he had to handle every imaginable farm chore.

And the system’s demands did not stop there. Music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—none were neglected.

Of course, the system did reward him from time to time: common household tools, seeds for vegetables, hammers, and more.

Occasionally, it bestowed practical books: “The Perfect Methods of Raising Pigs,” “How to Communicate with Chickens and Ducks,” “The Most Efficient Way to Chop Firewood”...

Over the years, Zhu Xiaoyuan had become accustomed to the system’s tyranny.

“The peach tree task is finally complete. What’s next?” he asked, gazing at the orchard brimming with fruit.

“Perform a good deed: help the disabled Old Huang chop firewood.”

The system’s mechanical voice sounded.

Zhu Xiaoyuan only raised an eyebrow, unsurprised. He was long used to the system’s peculiarities—delivering fruit for Aunt Zhang, fetching water for Uncle Lin, and countless other errands.

He took up his axe and rope, then opened the door and stepped out.

But as soon as he exited, the atmosphere within the courtyard shifted dramatically. A thunderous pressure rolled forth, dragons roared and phoenixes cried.

From the pond surged several divine dragons, scales ablaze with gold, greedily vying for the feed Zhu Xiaoyuan had just scattered.

“You foolish dragons, be careful! The master just left—are you looking for death?”

A hen pecking at feed flashed with divine light, and behind her shimmered a terrifying aura, the spectral form of a phoenix.

At her words, the dragon shadows vanished abruptly, and all was calm once more.

“Old Mother Phoenix, do you think dragon affairs are yours to meddle in?”

A deep, majestic voice rumbled from the pond.

“You should be grateful to Old Mother Phoenix!”

Then, to his astonishment, one of the peach trees spoke in a melodious voice.

“The master’s power grows ever more terrifying. With just a moment’s meditation, the flat peaches on my branches are nearly ripe...”

Then, silence fell over the courtyard.

—

Outside the courtyard, as Zhu Xiaoyuan walked through the village, the locals greeted him enthusiastically. The village was hidden and quiet, and Zhu Xiaoyuan had helped its people countless times, earning their warm regard.

“Xiao Zhu, be careful if you’re heading out today. I hear there are martial artists coming our way!” Aunt Zhang cautioned kindly.

“Martial artists are ruthless and cunning—you must be careful,” she added.

“I understand, Aunt Zhang,” Zhu Xiaoyuan replied, gently patting her shoulder before making his way out of the village.

The village was remote, rarely visited by outsiders. How could martial artists have found their way here?

At the mention of martial artists, Zhu Xiaoyuan could not help but feel a stirring of longing, though it was a world that did not belong to him.

—

After more than ten minutes, Zhu Xiaoyuan arrived at Fallen Leaf Valley.

Scarlet maple leaves blanketed the gorge, and the breeze set a crimson tapestry in motion.

As he was about to enter, he glimpsed a party approaching. They were clad in extraordinary garments, their steeds more than mere horses—their eyes glimmered with a supernatural light.

They were deep in conversation.

“Holy Maiden, this place is perilous. Even the Ancestral Master perished here. Are you certain you must go?” The leading middle-aged man looked at the maiden before him with concern.

She wore a robe of ethereal elegance, her figure graceful and breathtakingly beautiful, skin like snow, features refined and proud.

But her gaze was fixed upon the canyon, a look of unwavering resolve in her eyes.

“I have no path of retreat. Only by obtaining what lies within can our sect survive.”

“For the sake of the sect, I, Leng Qianxue, will not hesitate!”

“Though this place is a deathtrap, with our preparations, we may yet succeed.”

“Hong Li, if you are afraid, you need not enter.”

The middle-aged man, Hong Li, his eyes flashed with steely resolve. “We are willing to follow the Holy Maiden unto death. With Firemoon Sect in crisis, how could we stand idly by?”

Leng Qianxue nodded, satisfied. “Dismount, and prepare to enter.”

They dismounted and advanced slowly into the valley.

“This place is truly dangerous. I have barely approached, yet already feel a chilling dread,” Hong Li muttered, fear gnawing at him despite his cultivation at the initial Golden Core stage.

Leng Qianxue’s eyes narrowed. She drew a deep breath.

“Put on your protective robes. I will use the Dao patterns to break the seals within the gorge.”

With a wave of her jade-like hand, she produced an ancient, fractured formation disk.

“Open!”

At her command, streams of divine light poured from the disk, weaving through the gorge and tearing open a rift.

Hong Li’s pupils contracted in shock. He sensed a power capable of annihilating the heavens and earth, one his own Golden Core could not withstand.

“Stay close to the Holy Maiden! Into the valley, quickly!” he barked, waving his arm.