Ling Fan did not need eyes to see the past.
In the darkness that had followed him for the past three years, his memories were clearer than any image.
Thirteen years ago…
the story had been completely different.
He had been a child living in a small mountain village, surrounded by misty fields and wooden huts.
He owned almost nothing in the world except a warm hand holding his—
the hand of his caretaker, Li Chan.
He could not clearly remember her face anymore.
But he remembered her laughter.
And he remembered… that he had once been happy.
Until the day it all ended.
Screams.
Fire.
The sound of iron striking wood.
Men with ruthless faces storming into the village.
Bandits.
He did not understand the meaning of death back then.
But he understood the meaning of hiding.
He and his caretaker were among the few who survived.
Then the banners of the Bai Clan appeared.
Like a sword drawn from its sheath, their forces swept through the village and slaughtered the raiders without mercy.
When the fires finally died out, those who had lost their homes were given a choice.
They could work as servants for the clan.
Li Chan volunteered.
It was not a heroic choice.
It was hunger a child feared.
To feed the boy she called her son, she became a servant.
And he grew up among the servants’ corridors—
quiet,
isolated,
moving lightly enough that no one noticed him.
Until he turned nine.
One ordinary day, while cleaning the room of a young master, he found a book lying on the ground.
Its pages were yellowed.
Human figures were drawn across them in strange postures.
He could barely read at the time.
But curiosity was stronger than ignorance.
He followed the drawings.
Tried to imitate the movements.
Read what fragmented words he could understand.
And in that moment…
he felt something move within him.
As if a door had opened.
As if he had found the missing piece of himself.
From that day on, he trained in secret every night—
after everyone had fallen asleep,
in corners where no one ever passed.
His strength grew without anyone realizing.
At eleven, he reached the Second Stage of Body Tempering, surpassing most of his peers.
And he made the mistake of childhood.
When a young master bullied him, Ling Fan defended himself.
That was when everything was exposed.
His opponent had only been in the First Stage.
And a servant defeating him?
It was a scandal.
He was brought forward for punishment.
But instead of punishment…
came astonishment.
The clan elders saw a talent they had never expected.
They praised him.
One of the clan’s leaders even took him under his wing, accepted Li Chan as a concubine, and treated Ling Fan as a spiritual son.
He was given the surname Bai.
From that day forward…
everything changed.
Everyone was eager to make him feel that he belonged.
Special education.
History books.
Martial arts.
Resources.
Days passed.
His name soon became the most prominent among the younger generation of Dark Moon City.
At twelve, he broke through to the Third Stage.
At thirteen, he reached the Fourth Stage.
That was the peak of his life.
But disaster had already been waiting for him.
One morning, he woke up to darkness.
Not the darkness of closed eyes—
but the kind where the world itself had been extinguished.
Everything he saw was a field of empty blackness.
He waited.
Opened his eyes wider.
Nothing.
Doctors came.
Then came the verdict.
Blind.
No known cause.
No explanation.
Some even said,
“He was blind since birth…”
The news spread quickly.
And so did the changing gazes.
Those who once smiled at him now whispered.
Those who had envied him finally found their opportunity.
During those three months, everything inside him shattered.
He smashed objects.
He screamed in the night.
He cried in a voice no one heard.
He nearly lost his mind.
Then…
he calmed down.
Because he realized something simple.
Losing his sight did not mean the end of the road.
He returned to training with stubborn determination—fitting for his condition.
He participated in the annual evaluation.
Despite his inability to fight, he still received resources because the evaluation depended on cultivation level.
And that was when the real hatred began.
They saw him as an outsider.
A blind man stealing their resources.
They framed him.
Stole his share.
Set traps for him.
But he never fought back.
Because…
he considered them family.
Even though deep inside he knew many of them did not see him that way.
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Still, he believed there were some who respected him.
One year passed.
Many caught up to him.
Another year.
Some surpassed him.
Then a third.
Most left him behind.
His cultivation had completely stagnated.
Even the younger generation surpassed him.
The title of “First of the Young Generation” was stripped from him.
Soon, he was forgotten.
And a new title replaced it:
“The Blind Trash of Dark Moon City.”
When the martial tournament was later added to the evaluation,
he was crushed every year.
Broken bones.
Blood.
Unconsciousness.
But one thing never broke.
His will.
During those three years, he matured.
His voice became quieter.
His words fewer.
His laughter rarer.
His senses sharpened.
He could hear the tremor of intent in someone’s voice.
Smell hesitation.
Feel the movement of air before an opponent struck.
It did not replace his sight.
But it turned him into someone else.
Someone who was no longer na?ve.
After the latest evaluation…
he finally understood.
All the kindness.
All the warmth.
All the so-called belonging.
It had only been an investment.
And once his talent lost its value…
so did he.
He had already known part of this truth before.
But he never imagined it would go this far.
Far enough to send him on a mission—
one that would never be recorded.
A mission no one returned from.
A mission…
of unspoken execution.
When the memories ended,
Ling Fan found himself sitting in his room again.
The darkness had not changed.
But his heart felt heavier.
Just as he expected, within an hour the news spread through the clan like wildfire.
The mission.
The punishment.
The mountain range.
Soon the news reached Li Chan.
She did not knock.
She rushed in.
Her face, which always lit up whenever she called him “my son,” was pale as if all blood had left it.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
Her voice…
broken.
At first she said nothing.
She only hugged him tightly.
As if afraid he would disappear if she let go.
She cried and cried without stopping.
Ling Fan tried to calm her.
He smiled.
He reassured her.
Repeated that he was fine.
But she did not hear him.
Or perhaps she refused to.
For the first time in a long while, Ling Fan felt warmth.
A simple, sincere warmth.
His fingers trembled.
His eyes slowly grew moist.
They sat together like that for several minutes until her sobbing weakened.
Not because she felt reassured—
but because she saw a thread of hope.
She suddenly lifted her head.
As if a thought had struck her.
Bai Li, one of the clan leaders and her husband.
The man who had given Ling Fan his surname.
The man who had called him a spiritual son.
He would not stand by and watch…
would he?
With a determination that had not appeared in her eyes for months, she stood up and hurried out to find him.
After she left, Ling Fan slowly rose.
He left his residence and walked toward the back of the clan grounds.
There—
where a few scattered trees stood,
and a quiet lake whose surface was disturbed only by whispers of wind.
The place was always empty.
Since losing his sight, it had become his refuge.
Here he trained his hearing.
Here he listened to the rustle of leaves,
the movement of water,
the breathing of nature.
He sat on a rock near the water and thought.
Even if he were not blind…
his chances of surviving the mountain range would not exceed five percent.
Now?
Certainly less.
He tried to plan.
Tried to find a way out.
Tried to grasp any thread of hope.
But there was nothing.
Hours passed.
Night fell.
He returned to his room.
Morning came again.
Early.
Restless.
Servants whispered.
Young members gathered.
Eyes waited.
Ling Fan sat quietly.
Thinking.
Today was the day the punishment would be carried out.
Today…
might be the last day of his life.
Yet he felt strangely calm.
As if his heart had prepared itself long ago.
He did not wait long.
Members of the clan came and escorted him to the carriage stables.
Everyone was already there.
The Second Elder.
His adoptive father Bai Li.
And Li Chan, standing behind him, her face tense, her eyes searching for Ling Fan as if trying to carve his appearance into her heart.
A tall young man with sharp brows stood nearby.
If Ling Fan could see…
he would have smiled mockingly.
It was Bai Xing.
The Ninth Young Master.
Once the second most talented youth after Ling Fan.
When Ling Fan had been a servant, he had served him for a few days.
Only a few days—
before Ling Fan’s talent was discovered.
Later, when Bai Xing learned the truth…
regret gnawed at his heart.
If he had not lazily thrown that technique away,
if he had not neglected his training,
perhaps such a rival would never have appeared.
And when Ling Fan fell…
Bai Xing smiled the most.
He was tall and masculine in appearance.
But his expressions were simple.
A constant smile that revealed everything.
Behind them stood two unfamiliar figures.
Their clothing bore the emblem of the Liu Clan.
In Dark Moon City, there were four major powers:
The Bai Clan.
The Liu Clan.
The Qing Clan.
And the City Lord’s Palace.
The first two matched the Bai Clan in strength.
The palace…
ruled the city.
One of the visitors was an elderly man with a hunched back and white hair.
His narrow eyes seemed to miss nothing.
His name was Liu Zhangfeng.
His status was not low.
Beside him stood a girl.
Seventeen years old.
Liu Yuyan.
Her beauty commanded silence.
Her features carried a faint innocence.
But her body had already fully blossomed into womanhood.
She looked toward Ling Fan as he approached.
Her gaze was difficult to interpret.
Pity?
Disgust?
Hesitation?
Bai Xing, however, did not hide his smile.
Today was not merely the day of Ling Fan’s punishment.
It was the day the last thorn in his heart would fall.
Liu Zhangfeng spoke calmly with Bai Li and the Second Elder.
Their conversation was polite, full of formal courtesies.
It did not last long.
Ling Fan arrived.
His steps were slow but steady.
The conversation stopped instantly.
All eyes turned toward him.
His appearance was miserable even by martial standards.
Bruises still covered much of his body.
His face was pale beneath the marks of beating.
His left arm looked nearly crushed, wrapped in a rough bandage that could not hide the swelling.
He had not recovered.
He was barely standing.
Ling Fan had sensed the presence of strangers the moment he arrived.
But he did not know who they were.
Until he heard a familiar voice.
Liu Yuyan’s voice.
In that moment, everything connected.
He had not been stupid.
From the beginning he had almost been certain.
The presence of the Liu Clan here…
could only mean one thing.
The annulment of the engagement.
Strangely, he felt no disappointment.
Instead…
he felt that things were finally returning to their natural course.
Everything before had simply been an investment.
His talent.
His status.
His future.
How could such a relationship possibly last?
His thoughts were clear.
His face calm.
The Second Elder finally broke the silence.
“Ling Fan, in addition to carrying out your punishment today… there is another matter.”
“Your marriage to Miss Yuyan was arranged when you were twelve. Neither of you were consulted. It was merely… a naive attempt to strengthen relations with the Liu Clan.”
“We regret that.”
He continued.
“As the years passed and Miss Liu matured, she learned of the arrangement and repeatedly refused it, saying that her heart belonged to someone else.”
Some faces nearby looked uncomfortable.
But the elder continued.
“After long discussion, we decided to correct this mistake. Both of you will now be granted the freedom to choose.”
He paused briefly.
“The engagement will continue only if both parties agree. Otherwise, it will be dissolved.”
A faint chuckle suddenly cut through the silence.
Ling Fan’s laughter.
Faces froze.
The Second Elder frowned slightly.
Was he mocking them?
Ling Fan raised his head slightly.
“Funny.”
Silence filled the air.
He continued calmly.
“When I stood at the peak, everyone wished to befriend me. Promises were endless. Relationships were everywhere.”
He gave a faint smile.
“But when a single disaster struck… everyone disappeared.”
“So do not worry.”
He paused briefly.
“For me, those relationships ended long ago.”
Then he turned his face toward Liu Yuyan’s direction.
“As for this matter…”
“Senior Sister Liu Yuyan, do not worry. I know my place.”
He paused.
“I choose… to annul the engagement.”
Bai Xing burst into laughter.
“HAHAHAHA!”
He clapped lightly.
“For the first time in your life, Ling Fan… you know your limits.”
Then he turned to Liu Yuyan with a broad grin.
“You should be grateful.”
Liu Yuyan trembled slightly.
This was not what she expected.
She expected resistance.
Arguments.
Begging, even.
But his cold calmness unsettled her.
She stepped forward slightly and spoke gently.
“Won’t Young Master Ling fight for me?”
She added softly,
“At least… won’t you try?”
She was confident in her beauty.
Even if he was blind now—
he had seen her before.
They had played together.
Talked together.
She was certain her image still existed in his mind.
But Ling Fan answered calmly.
“Fight?”
He laughed quietly.
“For what?”
“A woman who chooses the strongest man today will choose the strongest again tomorrow.”
“And someone who stands beside me only when I am at the peak has no value when I fall.”
He paused.
“Do not worry. I do not collect things others discard.”
“Nor do I cling to what runs away.”
Her face instantly changed color.
At that moment, a servant shouted angrily.
“You insolent brat!”
“How dare you speak to Miss Liu like that?!”
He stepped forward.
“You’re nothing but a blind failure! Trash like you should be grateful she even looked at you!”
It was obvious he was trying to win her favor.
Perhaps even enchanted by her beauty.
But the most humiliating part…
was that no one stopped him.
Even Bai Xing, who had been about to intervene, suddenly stopped and laughed.
In his heart he thought,
“What could be more humiliating than being scolded by a servant… Ling Fan?”
He laughed again.
He truly enjoyed the scene.
The others remained silent.
Their silence was approval.
Only Li Chan trembled with anger.
The servant continued speaking without hesitation.
Slowly…
Ling Fan turned toward the voice.
He had already determined the servant’s position.
To his right.
One of the servants who had guided him earlier.
While the servant continued his nonsense, Ling Fan released a cold sigh.
Then he moved.
His leg snapped forward like a whip.
It was not random.
It was calculated.
Exactly as he predicted—
his foot struck the servant’s stomach.
“BOOM!”
The servant’s body folded as the air exploded from his lungs.
He was thrown backward before crashing violently to the ground.
His expression froze between shock and regret.
He began coughing violently.
The kick shocked everyone.
Before anyone could react, Ling Fan had already moved again.
He calmly walked toward the spot where the servant had fallen, guided by the sound of his body hitting the ground.
The servant struggled to lift his head.
“Ho—how dare—”
He never finished.
Ling Fan dropped to one knee.
There was no weakness in the movement.
Then his fist struck.
“CRACK!”
Several teeth shattered inside the servant’s mouth.
Blood burst from his lips, silencing him completely.
But Ling Fan did not stop.
Another punch.
Then another.
Cold.
Precise.
Relentless.
Ling Fan was originally a Fourth Stage Body Tempering cultivator.
The servant…
was nothing more than an ordinary man.
Even blind, one strike from Ling Fan was enough to end it.
The servant writhed helplessly beneath the blows.
Other servants began sweating.
Any of them could have been in his place.
Finally, the Second Elder moved.
His hand gripped Ling Fan’s shoulder.
“Enough.”
The blows stopped.
Ling Fan stood slowly and faced him.
His face was expressionless.
His empty black eyes were lifeless.
The bruises on his face and the dark calm in his stance gave him a strangely imposing aura.
When the Second Elder saw that face…
he sighed.
Ling Fan had always appeared calm and harmless.
But he had never been weak.
Even when insulted before, he never resisted.
Yet the elder knew—
Ling Fan had never submitted.
His silence was not surrender.
It was because he believed they were family.
But after yesterday’s trial…
that belief had died.
Now he had no reason to remain silent.
The elder sighed again.
“You will be punished for this.”
Ling Fan laughed lightly.
“Punished?”
His voice carried quiet sarcasm.
“He is just a servant… isn’t he?”
He paused.
“How does a servant dare speak to his master like that?”
“In fact… I believe I did the clan a service.”
He turned slightly toward the other servants.
“At least they learned a lesson today.”
“It was me today.”
“But who knows… tomorrow it might be the Ninth Young Master.”
Then he tilted his head slightly.
“Or… the Second Elder himself.”
Silence fell.
The Second Elder had no immediate answer.
But suddenly he smiled, as if remembering something.
“However…”
“You have already been reduced to a servant.”
He paused.
“And you did not strike him as Young Master Ling.”
“But as a servant.”
Ling Fan paused slightly.
Then he said calmly,
“Then… according to the Second Elder… the fight that just happened was between servants only?”
“Correct.”
Ling Fan smiled faintly.
“How strange.”
“Is it not the clan’s long-standing tradition… not to interfere in fights between servants?”
The Second Elder stiffened slightly.
That had indeed been an unwritten rule.
He coughed lightly.
“We decide… when to interfere.”
“And when not to.”
Ling Fan laughed again.
“Hehe…”
“So the rules are broken for me once again.”
He raised his head slightly.
“I can only feel honored.”
Then he asked calmly,
“Since I will be punished… what will it be?”
The Second Elder paused.
In truth, he had not planned any punishment.
He had only intended to suppress him.
After all, the servant had not died.
“This…”
Before he could finish, Ling Fan interrupted with a laugh.
“Hahaha… the Second Elder may extend my exile in the Dark Wind Mountains.”
“I would not mind.”
The elder looked at him for a moment.
Then spoke in a strange tone.
“There is no need.”
“Eight months… is enough.”
As if implying that eight months was more than enough time for Ling Fan to die.
He added,
“In fact… we had considered reducing it to six months.”
“But since you committed another offense…”
He raised his hand slightly.
“It will remain… as it is.”
Eight months in the Dark Wind Mountain Range.
A death sentence—
unchanged
