I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 1
Amid the towering mountains lay the Soul-Breaking Gorge.
The Soul-Breaking Gorge, lush with verdant grasses, nurtured countless living beings. Animals and plants lived here in harmony — a place brimming with vitality.
But why was such a beautiful, tranquil place called the Soul-Breaking Gorge by the cultivation world? Simply because this was the site of an ancient god war, and its unique environment still retained the divine power from that era. Any cultivator, even a Great Ascension-stage master, upon entering the gorge would be oppressed by the divine power, unable to draw upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, and even their true essence would become difficult to circulate. In other words, upon arriving here, cultivators would become ordinary people, powerless as chickens.
Moreover, the Soul-Breaking Gorge lay beneath a cliff. A cultivator without power to fly would fall to their death. While the identity of a cultivator granted them a long life, here in the gorge it only meant their waiting-for-death would be longer. Unable to draw upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth meant being unable to cultivate. Day after day, the cultivator could only endure here, waiting for the moment their lifespan ended.
Some could not endure and wished to sever their own meridians to end their life. But the cruelty of the gorge was precisely this: unable to circulate true essence, you couldn’t even end your own life. You could only wait bitterly for death.
No one would come to save you. Everyone knew the Soul-Breaking Gorge was a place of no return. Once you fell, there was no climbing back. Who would risk their life to jump down and rescue you? Even if they had the heart, they too would never return — only adding another lost soul.
That day, a mournful scream echoed through the gorge. The sound reverberated, sending birds and beasts scattering, diving into their nests, not daring to come out.
The creatures of the gorge were familiar with this sound. Every few decades, such a sound would come, and afterward, a two-legged creature would fall from the sky — sometimes dead, sometimes alive. The dead bodies would be torn apart by carnivorous beasts, while the living would cry bitterly before slowly dying, ultimately meeting the same fate.
The creatures all raised their heads toward the sky, hoping that what fell this time was already dead, so they could feast immediately.
The cultivators who fell into the gorge could not release their spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Even upon death, their corpses still brimmed with it. The creatures here didn’t actually crave the meat — they hungered for that spiritual energy.
Sure enough, this time was no exception. After the scream, a figure plummeted from the cliff at breakneck speed. At such speed, even one who had already reached Foundation Building would have been reduced to dust upon impact.
But the Soul-Breaking Gorge was no ordinary place. When the figure was less than ten meters from the ground, his falling speed abruptly slowed. By the time he landed, it was as gentle as collapsing onto a soft bed — completely unharmed.
Naturally, this was because the divine power of the gorge offset the impact of the fall. While it saved his life, it also cut off his path forward.
He lay on the ground, dressed in blood-streaked azure robes, his face smeared with fresh blood, making it impossible to see his appearance or age.
Yet he lived. His breath was faint but stubborn — he survived.
The birds and beasts, disappointed by the vitality they sensed from him, reluctantly left. The living were beyond their reach. Some beasts, ignorant of the danger, had tried to attack the living before and were beaten to death. Although cultivators here could not use the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, some had trained their bodies well enough to fend off the relatively harmless wild beasts.
He lay there for three days. When he was able to move, he pulled out a porcelain bottle and swallowed a pill. The medicinal power slowly mended his injuries, and after three days he could finally crawl to his feet.
He struggled to move, trying to find an exit from the gorge. Though he knew it was impossible, as long as there was a sliver of hope, he would not give up.
No one knew how much time passed. His wounds gradually healed, and he had explored almost the entire gorge — save for one patch of mist.
Even the animals dared not enter that mist. Every time they approached its edge, they would turn back. Over these days, Li Xinglun had already traversed the entire Soul-Breaking Gorge. Surrounded on all sides by mountains, with no caves, it was truly a dead end.
Only the impenetrable mist remained. Li Xinglun decided to venture in. Since death awaited him at the bottom anyway, he might as well fight for a chance at life.
Once his injuries recovered enough for him to walk freely, he stepped into the mist. It seemed lush with vegetation, though devoid of animals. Though his vision was nothing but white haze, by groping his way forward he could still proceed.
Having long since ceased eating, Li Xinglun walked for days without food or drink. In the mist, with no sun or moon, he had no idea how many days or how far he’d traveled — only that he kept moving forward by touch.
Until one day, he felt something strange.
Fatigued, he was resting on the ground. Having grown used to reaching out first when hearing sounds, he heard rustling in the nearby grass, reached out, and touched something odd.
It felt as warm and smooth as fine jade, hard to let go once touched. Unsure what it was, he cautiously reached further — and suddenly heard a laugh.
“…Don’t touch my armpit, that tickles.” A gentle voice came, warm like that sensation.
Had he… touched a person? Li Xinglun widened his eyes, but still saw only white. He immediately rose, cupped his hands, and said, “I cannot see within this mist — forgive me for offending, senior.”
“Senior… yes, I suppose I am a senior.”
That cryptic answer left Li Xinglun at a loss. Encountering someone strange in the mist, his first thought was to befriend them — after all, trapped here together, another person meant more strength to escape.
“I am Li Xinglun. Might I ask senior’s name?” Not knowing if the other could see, he maintained his cupped-hands salute.
“Name… what was it?” The owner of the voice sounded puzzled. After a pause, he said, “Just now I looked up at the sky. Geese flew across so freely. Since I like that sight so much, I suppose my name is Changkong {lit. Vast Sky}.”
Li Xinglun: “…”
What kind of absurd logic was that?
“Changkong… Changkong Zhuoyu {lit. Vast Sky Carving Jade}. Yes, that’s it.” The warm voice took on a hint of cheer.
Li Xinglun: “…”
He no longer wanted to engage. Clearly this person had gone mad after too long in the gorge, forgetting even who he was. Li Xinglun disdained to associate with someone who’d already abandoned his will to fight.
He skirted around Changkong Zhuoyu and continued deeper into the mist — but to his surprise, the man followed him, sticking close behind.
Suddenly feeling watched, Li Xinglun stopped and asked warily, “Senior Changkong, can you see in this mist?”
Normally it should’ve been impossible. Without spiritual energy, with ordinary eyesight, one shouldn’t see anything.
“Very clearly,” said Changkong Zhuoyu. “You’re not as handsome as I am.”
Li Xinglun felt a vein bulge on his forehead. At a time like this, he still had the mind to compare appearances? And Li Xinglun himself was hardly lacking.
With his sword-like brows and starry eyes, his figure tall and upright, he had always been the most outstanding among his family’s younger generation. Even in this ordeal, he didn’t believe himself inferior to anyone.
“Heh,” Li Xinglun sneered. “Since I cannot see in this mist, whatever senior says, so be it.”
Changkong Zhuoyu fell silent. At last, Li Xinglun had shut him up and continued forging ahead. But not long after, Changkong Zhuoyu spoke again: “There’s a cliff wall ahead. If you keep going, you’ll crash into it.”
Li Xinglun stopped at once, reached out, and indeed touched rock — the mist had reached its end.
“You really can see?” Li Xinglun asked at once. “What’s this cliff like? Is there a crevice like a cave? Any wind?”
“No. Just a solid cliff wall,” Changkong Zhuoyu replied. “But up above are seven characters carved: [斬前塵，死劫逢生] ‘Sever the past; in the deathly trial, encounter life.’ Those seven characters.”
Li Xinglun turned those words over and over in his mind. The Soul-Breaking Gorge was a dead end. Face death to find life… could this be the way out?
“Ah!” Changkong Zhuoyu’s voice suddenly rang out.
“Did senior discover something?” Li Xinglun asked hopefully.
“Indeed,” Changkong Zhuoyu’s tone grew solemn. “Such beautiful characters must’ve been written by me. They must be a message I left myself before losing my memory. No wonder I forgot who I was — I must have severed my past to survive this death trial.”
Li Xinglun: “…”
He would rather suffocate alone than exchange another word with this man!
Yet just then, a hand grabbed his sleeve and quickly pinched the fabric. “So this is clothing? The material feels very nice.”
Of course it did. As the most gifted of the Li family’s next generation, everything he wore was the best. This outfit, woven from celestial silkworm silk, wouldn’t burn in fire or soak in water, could even resist some true essence, keeping him cool in summer and warm in winter — priceless.
“But my clothing feels better than yours,” Changkong Zhuoyu added.
Li Xinglun now began to suspect that this man’s mind had regressed to that of a child from being trapped here too long — comparing everything.
“I cannot see, so how would I know what you’re wearing?” Li Xinglun said irritably. “Besides, when I touched you earlier, I didn’t feel any clothing on you.”
“There is,” Changkong Zhuoyu replied after a pause.
Then, all around, the dense mist suddenly gathered toward him. A blinding white light forced Li Xinglun to close his eyes. When he opened them again, the mist had dispersed — and before him stood a man.
In the faint haze, his black hair flowed freely over his shoulders, his skin like the finest white jade. His serene brows and eyes were like distant mountains, his dark eyes deep and unfathomable. He wore a white robe, casually belted at the waist. A breeze lifted his sleeves, revealing an impossibly slender waist.
In that instant, only one thought crossed Li Xinglun’s mind —
This man really was more handsome than him!
~ Chapter End ~
Comments
Post a Comment