"Qin Dynasty, China. Autumn, 211 BCE. Night has fallen.
In Fengmen Village, Li Yan has already spent two years in this era. No longer the confused young man unfamiliar with the Qin Dynasty, he now possesses a well-built physique and martial skills comparable to an expert, thanks to the teachings of Mister Chu and his own modern knowledge and physical conditioning, which have helped him gradually integrate into this era.
The night in Fengmen Village is especially quiet, with only the occasional chirping of insects.
Li Yan stands in the courtyard, gazing into the distance.
Tonight, the sky seems unusually strange.
In the distance, the mountains faintly appear in the moonlight, and stars dot the sky, yet a red star flickers erratically, like a cold eye watching all beneath it.
As he ponders, the sound of Mister Chu's footsteps breaks the night's silence.
His steps are steady, his cane tapping the ground with a hint of worry in his expression.
"Xiao Yan, it's late. Why are you standing here instead of resting?" Mister Chu's voice remains gentle, but his eyes reveal unease.
Li Yan turns, offering a slight smile, though his gaze remains fixed on the red star. "Mister Chu, that red star in the night sky lately… it fills me with unease."
Mister Chu follows his gaze, his expression darkening slightly. He speaks slowly: "What you see is 'Yinghuo Shouxin.'"
"Yinghuo Shouxin?" Li Yan is taken aback. As a modern man, he knows a bit about astronomy, but ancient omens surrounding this red star are foreign to him.
"Yinghuo Shouxin is a sign that brings worry to the emperor, an omen of national decline." Mister Chu's face grows solemn. "Since the unification of the six states, the Qin seems stable, yet with recent celestial abnormalities, a great change may be imminent."
Li Yan clenches his fist. He knows that history is on the brink of upheaval, but he isn't sure if he is already entangled in it.
"Mister Chu," he hesitates for a moment before voicing his question, "could it have something to do with the Way of the Infinite?"
At the mention of the Way of the Infinite, a complex look flickers in Mister Chu's eyes, and he slowly nods. "The Way of the Infinite is a mysterious organization rumored to control the heavens and pursue immortality. The emperor is increasingly enamored with the quest for eternal life, and they are using celestial phenomena to deceive the people's hearts."
A chill rises within Li Yan, and he furrows his brow. This organization, the Way of the Infinite—once just a vague legend—is real and is influencing the fate of the Qin Dynasty.
"What is their purpose?" Li Yan asks, puzzled.
Mister Chu is silent for a moment, then sighs. "As for their true purpose, I cannot say."
Li Yan returns to his room alone, his unease lingering like the clouds of night.
As the night deepens, he drifts into a dream.
In his dream, Li Yan stands in endless darkness, surrounded by silence and a strange presence hanging in the air.
The sky is void of stars, with dark clouds rolling above. Thunder occasionally pierces the silence, as if the heavens themselves are breaking apart. He feels trapped by an invisible force, his body restrained and unable to move.
The ground beneath him crumbles, transforming into a vast abyss, and an unseen force pushes him toward the edge.
The sky in the distance begins to spin, clouds splitting open, and a massive vortex descends, consuming everything around it. Li Yan feels his body pulled by a powerful force, suspended in mid-air, on the verge of being sucked into the endless darkness.
At that moment, a shadow emerges from the vortex. Draped in a black cloak, the figure seems to merge with the night, an overpowering presence radiating from them.
"You've finally arrived; I was told you would come," a deep voice echoes, resonating as if from all directions.
Li Yan tries to respond but finds himself unable to speak. He can only lock his gaze on the figure in black.
The cloaked figure smiles faintly, with a touch of indifference. "The Way of the Infinite, an ancient legacy that controls the heavens. What you see tonight is just the tip of the iceberg."
Li Yan's heart pounds, recalling Mister Chu's earlier words about the Way of the Infinite.
"Are you… one of the alchemists?" he asks, struggling to find his voice.
The cloaked figure sneers with a hint of disdain. "Alchemists? They're merely mortals chasing fame and fortune. The Way of the Infinite is the true inheritor of time and life, tracing back to the era of Guiguzi."
Guiguzi—the name sends a shock through Li Yan.
"Eternal life is no myth," the figure continues, his voice becoming more profound. "What we pursue is the breaking of life's boundaries, the control of time itself. The celestial phenomena we manipulate merely reveal the laws of the heavens."
"What… do you want?" Li Yan's throat tightens as he asks, feeling a chill in his bones.
The cloaked figure stares at him, a glint of complexity in his eyes. "We seek to break free from the shackles of time and control its flow. History isn't a straight line but a winding river, ever-changing. The Way of the Infinite is the helmsman of this river."
As the figure's voice fades, his silhouette dissipates into the wind. Li Yan jolts awake, finding himself back in his stone chamber, surrounded by the stillness of night and the inky darkness outside.
Yet everything from the dream feels hauntingly real.
Meanwhile…
In a hidden valley surrounded by mountains in Dongjun, several figures clad in black robes gather in a dark underground chamber.
Ancient runes are carved into the chamber walls, and an ancient bronze mirror stands on a stone platform at the center, emanating an eerie glow.
The black-robed figures gaze deeply into the mirror, as if able to see countless pasts and futures through its surface.
"Eternal life is only a facade. Time is the true power," one figure's deep voice reverberates through the chamber.
His hand gently strokes the edge of the mirror as if feeling its pulse. The others stand silently behind him, their eyes filled with both reverence and greed.
"Revered One, what power does this mirror truly hold?" one asks expectantly.
The black-robed figure sneers, turning to reveal a ghostly pale face. "Do you think immortality is the ultimate pursuit? Immortality is merely an extension of time. This mirror, however, controls time itself. Once we control it, we can reverse history and alter the future."
"But doing so would disrupt the entire world's order!" another exclaims in horror.
The pale man's gaze is as sharp as a blade, sweeping over the group. "World order? That's nothing but a fragile shackle. Our mission in the Way of the Infinite is to break these shackles. The emperor desires immortality, but we seek dominion over time!"
He points toward the bronze mirror, his voice growing even more sinister. "Once the blood sacrifice on the altar is complete, this mirror's power will fully awaken, and from that moment, no future will be beyond our control."
Meanwhile…
At the foot of Mount Hua, the wind howls like wandering spirits, carrying the mountain's chill. A thin mist cloaks the winding path, as if concealing countless unresolved mysteries.
A figure in a foreign cloak hurriedly walks along the ancient path, his steps quick and guarded, his face hidden beneath his hood.
His pace fluctuates between urgency and caution, glancing over his shoulder as though fleeing from something or anticipating an unexpected encounter.
In the dim moonlight, his palms are sweaty, and the hand gripping his sword trembles slightly.
The wind whips around him, and aside from his heavy breathing and footsteps, the world is silent.
The treacherous mountain path is shrouded in thick fog, as though leading to an unknown abyss.
Suddenly, faint footsteps approach from behind. Cold sweat trickles down his spine as he spins around, scanning the surroundings, only to find no one.
The fog seems to devour his vision, and the wind grows increasingly eerie, as if born from the darkness or his own innermost fears.
"Who's there?" he asks hoarsely, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword hilt, his steps involuntarily retreating.
Just as he prepares to move forward, a tall figure emerges from the mist ahead.
The man in black moves like a ghost within the fog, his face hidden beneath a cloak, blending seamlessly into the night.
The man tightens his grip on his sword, his heartbeat thundering. "Who are you?" he demands.
The cloaked figure says nothing, seemingly oblivious to his question, stepping forward until he stands before him.
In silence, the man in black retrieves an object from his cloak and holds it out.
It is an ancient jade tablet, glimmering faintly in the moonlight.
The man examines it closely, his heart pounding as he reads the five carved characters: "This year, the Ancestor Dragon dies."
Seeing these words, his heart seizes, and his blood runs cold.
His fingers tremble slightly, and his grip on the sword is slippery with sweat.
"Take this jade to Lord Haochi," the black-robed figure says, his voice low and chilling.
"Lord Haochi?" The man frowns, unfamiliar with the name.
He looks up, uncertain how to respond.
Without another word, the black-robed man hands him the jade and then vanishes into the fog.
Stunned, he stands with the heavy jade tablet in his hand, feeling its weight like a millstone.
Looking around to confirm the mysterious man is gone, he takes a deep breath, unable to shake his confusion and fear. "Lord Haochi… who is he?"
Days later, in the Qin Palace.
The hall is dimly lit, the atmosphere stifling.
A messenger kneels in the center, holding the jade tablet in trembling hands, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
The oppressive silence nearly suffocates him; he knows he stands before the emperor, and any mistake could cost him dearly.
From above, Ying Zheng gazes down with an icy look sharp enough to pierce souls.
A eunuch presents the jade tablet, and the emperor takes it, inspecting it closely.
"This year, the Ancestor Dragon dies…" The characters stand clear in the candlelight, carving themselves into the emperor's mind, stirring his nerves.
The messenger's heart pounds as he recounts his encounter with the cloaked man at the foot of Mount Hua in detail, his voice dry and forced.
The hall remains eerily silent as Ying Zheng listens, his expression unchanging, as if the ominous words mean nothing to him.
He examines the jade tablet again, a cold light flickering in his eyes.
"Lord Haochi…" he repeats the name, his voice filled with inscrutable meaning.
After a moment, he waves a hand, signaling for the tablet to be set aside.
Ying Zheng raises his head, his gaze sharp as a blade, his cold presence forcing everyone to hold their breath.
"This matter must not be disclosed," he says calmly, his tone carrying an unquestionable authority.
The messenger bows, pressing his forehead to the ground, relieved.
"Summon Wei Jing."
Shortly after, an elderly official enters, his steps slow and unsteady.
He is Wei Jing, custodian of the Qin palace archives.
Kneeling, he salutes, "Long live His Majesty."
"Rise." The emperor gestures to the jade, "Do you recognize this object?"
Wei Jing lifts his head, and upon seeing the tablet, a hint of surprise crosses his face. "Your Majesty, this item seems familiar. It was a sacrificial offering thrown into the Yangtze River twenty-eight years ago to honor Lord Haochi."
Ying Zheng's gaze sharpens. "You're certain?"
Wei Jing nods, adding, "I cast it into the river with my own hands."
"What do you make of the inscription?" the emperor's voice grows cold, as if slicing through Wei Jing's very soul.
Wei Jing's expression shifts, his voice hushed, "The title 'Ancestor Dragon'… refers to Your Majesty. The inscription, it… may imply something ominous."
Ying Zheng's grip tightens on the tablet, which emits a slight scraping sound. He snorts coldly, then stands, his gaze sweeping across everyone in the hall like a sword. "Take him away. Execute him."
The messenger's face contorts in terror, begging for mercy.
Guards drag him from the hall like a dead dog.
Ying Zheng's expression remains unchanged, as if the conversation never happened.
This is not the first strange event of the year. Just days prior…
A blinding light streaked across the sky over Dongjun as a massive meteor descended, crashing into an empty field.
The impact shook all of Dongjun, attracting throngs of people to witness it.
The meteor, with its smooth, dark surface, resembled a mirror.
In awe, the crowd kept their distance, whispering among themselves.
Initially believed to be a heavenly omen, fear spread days later when an inscription appeared on the meteor, reading, "The First Emperor dies, and the land is divided."
The words struck like a thunderbolt, stirring panic among the people of Dongjun.
Some whispered that it was a warning from heaven against the emperor's tyranny, or perhaps a fated sign indicating the impending collapse of Qin.
The rumor quickly spread, filling the people with dread as they speculated on the true meaning of the celestial omen.
News soon reached Xianyang Palace, and upon hearing it, Ying Zheng's face turned icy.
He coldly ordered, "Investigate. Find out who carved those words. If anyone conceals the truth, they will be executed, along with their entire family."
He then dispatched an imperial censor to Dongjun with a squad to uncover the culprit.
The censor went door to door interrogating the townsfolk, but no one claimed knowledge of the words.
Under threat of torture, the people were terrified into silence.
An edict was issued, condemning all residents near the meteor site, regardless of age or gender, to execution.
In an instant, rivers of blood flowed.
Wherever Qin's iron cavalry rode, families were torn apart, and innocents paid the price for this purge.
The meteor, along with the words carved on it, was burned to ashes, leaving no trace.
The terror it inspired seemed to vanish with the rising smoke, but the shadow of the prophecy lingered in Ying Zheng's mind, refusing to fade.
Yet the bloodshed could not quell his doubt.
As a ruler, he had never believed in fate, but he could not ignore these seemingly coincidental omens.
Unbeknownst to him, a storm that would change the world was silently brewing.
And it all stemmed from that mysterious encounter at the foot of Mount Hua."