The Mysterious Sun Sect of the Celestial Dragon Kingdom was perched on a towering mountain cliff. Rising high above the clouds, it was often wrapped in golden mist at dawn and bathed in a warm crimson glow by dusk.
Because the shape of the cliff resembled a dragon’s head, the locals called it the Sun-Chasing Dragon Cliff. From the dragon’s mouth, a crystalline waterfall cascaded down, vanishing into the sea of clouds below. And atop this majestic dragon’s head stood the Sect Master’s manor, a grand and tranquil estate surrounded by centuries-old pine trees and golden-leafed maples. The air was fresh, cool and crisp.
A young man stepped onto the manor’s wide stone terrace. The morning sunlight spilled across the garden. Birds chirped cheerfully from the treetops, while squirrels leapt between branches. Nearby, a small rocky pond bubbled gently, the soft murmur of flowing water adding to the serene atmosphere.
"Sect Master, you summoned me?"
He bowed low. His long black hair was tied in a neat queue, and his white robe fluttered in the breeze. At his waist hung a slender sword; its white-jade scabbard gleamed faintly in the sunlight.
The Sect Master, Yan Hao Yang, stood by the railing, eyes fixed on the horizon. Tall and broad-shouldered, with mane-like golden hair, he turned at last to face the youth. His golden eyes narrowed, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Langtian, is it true? You’ve formed a 7th Grade Spirit Core?"
His voice rumbled like distant thunder rolling through the mountains.
Even after thirteen years of discipleship, Bai Langtian still felt the crushing weight of his master’s presence.
Yan Hao Yang had long since reached the peak of the True Spirit Realm. Simply standing near him felt like standing before a god clad in mortal flesh.
"Yes, Master. I have successfully formed the 7th Grade Core."
Hao Yang stepped forward, resting his hands on Langtian’s shoulders and lifting him from his bow.
"That is my disciple."
"It was only possible thanks to the Solar Heart Pill you bestowed, Master. My aptitude is shallow and unpolished. Without your guidance, I could not have come this far."
"Haha, what are you saying?" Hao Yang’s laughter boomed across the terrace, startling birds from the trees. "A tiger does not sire a toothless cub. You are my disciple; how could you be lacking?"
He clapped Langtian’s shoulder with pride.
Turning back toward the cliff’s rim, Hao Yang let a quiet moment stretch between them.
"Langtian... how many years has it been since you arrived here?"
Langtian stepped beside him.
"Thirteen years, Master."
"Ai... thirteen years already." Hao Yang exhaled, his voice carried off by the wind.
Langtian nodded, eyes reflecting the golden dawn.
"Yes. I remember it clearly. Senior Sister Shangguan saved me that day... and brought me here."
________________________
Thirteen years ago, at the foot of the mountain, there lay a quiet, peaceful village.
Life was simple and serene.
Each morning after breakfast, the men would head to the rice fields, while the women gathered by the stream to wash clothes. Children laughed and chased one another along winding dirt paths. Some played cuju or tossed arrows into jars; others tried to catch dragonflies or fished in the shallow ponds.
Langtian was only ten years old then. He spent his days running wild with his two older brothers—racing through fields, sneaking into orchards, stealing fruit from the neighbors.
It was an ordinary life, but a good one.
Until everything changed in a single, terrible night.
That evening, a ruthless band of marauders descended from the foothills.
They came under cover of darkness, riding black horses, armor clanking, war cries ripping through the silence like screams from hell. Flames engulfed the village as torches rained down upon the rooftops. Doors splintered under boots. Blades flashed like lightning in the firelight.
With bloodlust and no mercy, they robbed, killed, and burned everything to the ground.
Langtian’s world dissolved into chaos and screams.
He saw it all—his father, spear in hand, falling beneath a hail of arrows. Moments later, his mother was dragged into the shadows, still calling his name, her face streaked with soot and tears.
By the time the slaughter ended, the village lay in ash and ruin.
Langtian lay crumpled beside the shattered remains of his home, surrounded by the cold bodies of his father and brothers. A jagged blade had torn open his back from shoulder to waist. Every breath sent searing pain through his chest. Blood seeped from his wounds, warm and sticky, pooling beneath him.
He should have died there.
But something held him back.
He kept whispering to himself, muttering into the cold, empty night.
’Langtian, you have to live.
’So you can avenge them.
’So you can bring justice to those who destroyed everything you loved!’
And so, the hours crawled by as he drifted in and out of consciousness. The night stretched on without end, the pale moon drifting silently overhead.
Then, just as the first light of dawn crept across the horizon, Langtian stirred.
The morning sun brushed gently against his bloodied face.
Beside him, someone was kneeling.
She wore flowing white robes trimmed with gold. Her long hair was tied in a high ponytail, and her presence was so radiant, it felt as if the light itself had descended from the heavens and taken human form.
The young woman tore a strip of cloth from her sleeve and softly wiped the blood from Langtian’s face. Then, uncorking a small vial, she poured a healing elixir along the deep gash on his back.
A warm sensation spread through his shattered body. The throbbing pain dulled... then slowly began to fade.
"Stay with me," the young woman whispered.
Langtian blinked up at her.
Her eyes were clear, achingly beautiful, like the brightest stars in the sky. Her scent was soft and sweet, like jasmine blooming in the stillness of night.
And as the medicine took effect, his consciousness faded once more.
When he awoke again, he was lying on a bed in a small wooden house atop the Sun-Chasing Dragon Peak.
______________________________
"That reminds me... is there still no word about Senior Sister Shangguan?" Langtian asked.
The Sect Master let out a long sigh and shook his head.
That simple gesture struck Langtian harder than any words could.
Senior Sister Shangguan Yue Ling...
To Langtian, she was everything. She was his savior, his role model, the one who had first shown him the path of cultivation.
But within the Mysterious Sun Sect, she was more than that.
She was a prodigy, a once-in-a-thousand-years genius.
At just eighteen, she had already formed a 7th Grade Golden Spirit Core.
In the world of cultivation, Core Formation was a major milestone. After years of refining and absorbing Qi, a cultivator would condense their spiritual energy into a single core within the dantian.
A Golden Core had nine grades. The higher the grade, the more powerful it would be, leading more cultivation potential.
To form a 3th Grade Core was already a remarkable achievement that only one in a hundred cultivators would ever reach it. A 5th Grade Core was rarer still; some sects might see only one in a generation.
But a 7th Grade Core...
That was near-mythical!
A one-in-a-million phenomenon!
So when Shangguan Yue Ling awakened her 7th grade Spirit Core, the entire Mysterious Sun Sect erupted in celebration. She was hailed as a heavenly prodigy—a girl blessed by fate, favored by the stars, destined to walk a path few could even dream of.
But then, ten years ago, everything changed.
Only weeks after forming her Golden Core, Yue Ling vanished without a trace.
Some believed she had gone into secluded cultivation. Others feared the worst, that she had fallen during a perilous mission, or been taken by a hidden enemy.
Regardless, the sect never stopped searching.
From time to time, envoys were sent to the farthest corners of the realm, chasing whispers and shadows. Rumors came and went, with countless false sightings, misleading clues.
But in the end, nothing.
All that remained was a sorrowful tale, a quiet tragedy that weighed heavily on the Sect Master’s heart.
As Langtian stood before Hao Yang, with a 7th-Grade Golden Core shining within his dantian, the Sect Master finally smiled again.
Perhaps the heavens were offering compensation for what had once been taken from him, and from the Mysterious Sun Sect.
"Langtian, my good disciple. Come here. I will bestow upon you a new gift," Hao Yang said.
Langtian’s eyes widened.
A personal gift from the Sect Master? That was an honor most disciples could only dream of.
He straightened, heart pounding.
"Yes, Master!" he replied, stepping forward.
Hao Yang now stood at the edge of the cliff, his long cloak rippling in the wind.
"Look to the horizon. Tell me... what comes to your mind when you see the sun?"
Langtian followed his master’s gaze.
The sun was rising over the mountains, flooding the sky in crimson and gold. Its light spilled across the world, chasing away shadows, igniting the clouds with fire.
In Langtian’s dark pupils, the reflection shimmered.
A burning celestial body. Under its radiance, the world awoke, darkness fled, and life began anew.
He lowered his gaze to his open palm.
Just as the sun rose after every endless night...
He, too, had risen from darkness.
Langtian turned to his master. In a calm, unwavering voice, he shared his thoughts.
Hao Yang laughed and was seemingly pleased.
"Very good! Very good! Your interpretation is not bad."
But then, his tone shifted.
"Allow me to correct one thing, though."
Langtian’s expression stiffened.
"Please enlighten me, Master," he said, bowing respectfully.
Hao Yang stepped closer. His golden eyes gleamed like blades.
"The one who will rise as the new sun...
...is not you. Don’t be arrogant."
"A-Ah... I’m sorry! I was too arrogant!"
The sun is the most powerful being in the heavens. Far greater than the stars. Sacred beyond all else.
How foolish he had been. How arrogant, to compare himself to the sun!
Had he not just violated one of cultivation’s most basic principles?
Letting ego blind him.
Hao Yang’s voice turned colder.
"Then tell me... who do you think it should be?"
Langtian straightened.
’Was he referring to someone else? Someone who once stood at the peak of the world?’
Names of legendary cultivators and ancient Immortal Gods drifted through his mind.
"It’s me," Hao Yang said calmly. "I’m the only sun here."
And before Langtian could move—
Before he could even comprehend—
A sharp, searing pain exploded in his abdomen.
His breath caught. His body froze.
And when he looked down, what he saw turned his blood to ice.
"M-Master... why...?"
His Golden Core, so radiant, so full of promise—
Now cradled in Hao Yang’s hand.
Langtian staggered back. His knees buckled. He collapsed, pain rippling like wildfire through his veins.
Hao Yang didn’t answer.
He only smiled—a twisted, monstrous smile.
And in his palm, Langtian’s core pulsed faintly... like a dying star.
Then, with a cold, brutal motion, Hao Yang shoved him off the cliff.
The wind howled past his ears.
The world blurred into streaks of blue and red.
And in the final moment, as he fell through the open air, the sun vanished from Langtian’s eyes.