March, early spring.

Eastern Nanhuangzhou, a remote corner.

The sky was overcast, a gloomy gray that radiated an oppressive heaviness. It seemed as if someone had spilled ink onto a sheet of paper, staining the heavens and blurring the clouds with its dark hue.

Clouds were stacked upon each other, merging and blending, diffusing streaks of crimson lightning accompanied by a rumbling thunder.

Like a god's low growl, it reverberated through the mortal world.

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The blood-red rain, carrying sorrow, fell upon the mortal realm.

The earth was hazy, with a ruined city silent and lifeless in the bloody crimson rain.

Within the city, broken walls and dilapidated structures stood as testaments to ruin. Everything was withered and decayed. Collapsed houses littered the streets, along with numerous corpses, bruised and blackened, like shattered autumn leaves, silently wilting away.

The once bustling streets are now deserted.

The sandy road, once bustling with activity, is now eerily quiet.

There was only blood mud left, mixed with minced meat, dust, and paper, indistinguishable from each other, shocking to behold.

Not far away, a dilapidated carriage was stuck in the mud, filled with decay. The only thing remaining vibrant was a discarded rabbit doll hanging from the reins, swaying in the wind. Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

The coarse white linen was soaked red, imbued with an eerie and sinister aura.

Murky eyes, seeming to hold a trace of resentment, stared blankly at the mottled stones ahead.

There, a figure lay sprawled.

>

He was a boy of thirteen or fourteen, clad in rags, his clothes soiled and covered in grime. Around his waist was tied a worn leather pouch.

The boy narrowed his eyes, still as a statue, the piercing cold seeping through his ragged clothes from all directions. It spread throughout his body, gradually stealing away his warmth.

Even though raindrops fell on his face, he didn't blink. He stared coldly into the distance, like a hawk.

Following his gaze, about seven or eight paces away, a gaunt vulture was feasting on the decaying carcass of a wild dog, occasionally glancing around with vigilance.

In this dangerous ruin, even the slightest breeze or rustle of grass could send it soaring into the air.

And the young are like hunters, patiently waiting for opportunity.

After a long time, the opportunity came. The greedy vulture finally plunged its head completely into the dog's belly.

In an instant, the boy's narrowed eyes flashed with cold light.

He moved like an arrow loosed from a bow, charging swiftly toward the vulture. With a flick of his right hand, he drew out a black iron dart from a leather pouch at his waist.

The iron tip of the nail flashed with a sharp, cold light.

Perhaps sensing danger, the vulture immediately noticed the boy's sudden dash and, startled, flapped its wings and took to the air.

But it was still too late.

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The black iron staple, following the boy's emotionless forceful flick, transformed into a black line and shot out.

>

The sharp iron stake pierced the vulture's head instantly, shattering its skull and killing it in an instant.

The powerful impact sent its body crashing down, tilting at an angle before crashing into a nearby carriage with a loud bang.

The scarlet doll beside it swayed more and more violently with the jolting of the carriage. Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate! ?

The young man's expression remained calm, his speed unwavering from beginning to end as he dashed straight here. Upon arrival, he snatched up the vulture corpse along with the iron stake in one swift movement.

The force was so great that it even tore up a small piece of the part of the cart where the iron spike had been driven in.

After doing all that, he sped away along the edge of the street without looking back.

The wind, at this moment, seemed to grow stronger. The blood-red doll on the carriage swayed, as if watching the youth's departure.

The further we walk, the farther away we get.

The wind, indeed, grew stronger, carrying the chill of rain, and brushed past the boy's thin clothes.

>

The young man couldn't help but shiver, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, he pulled his collar tighter, and let out a gasp.

This is a test.

He dislikes the cold.

And the way to resist the cold was to find a place sheltered from wind and rain to rest, but at this moment the boy running on the street did not slow down in the slightest, dilapidated shops whizzing past him.

He doesn't have much time left.

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Because hunting vultures took too long, he still had one place to go today.

“It shouldn't be far.” The young man muttered to himself, speeding down the street.

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On the path ahead, corpses of a bluish-black hue were scattered everywhere. Their hopeless faces were twisted into grotesque expressions, as if they had become embodiments of despair, seeking to taint the heart and mind of the young boy.

But the young boy took it for granted and didn't even glance at it.

>As time ticked by, the young man kept glancing at the sky, a hint of anxiety creeping onto his face. It seemed to him that the changing weather was more terrifying than those corpses themselves.

>

Luckily, soon he saw a pharmacy in the distance. The boy let out a sigh of relief and dashed towards it.

The apothecary was small, with many medicine cabinets scattered across the floor, emitting a musty smell, like an opened tomb, full of disarray.

In a corner, there was also the corpse of an elderly man, his whole body blue-black, leaning against the wall as if he hadn't had time to close his eyes, staring blankly at the outside world.

The end.

The boy stepped in, cast a glance around, and immediately began searching.

Most of the herbs here have turned blue-black, just like those corpses. Only a few remain normal.

>

Among these ordinary herbs, the young boy carefully examined them for a long time.

As if recalling past experiences, he finally picked up a common plantain and took off his thin shirt, revealing a huge scar on his chest.

The wound hasn't fully healed yet, you can see the edges of the wound are starting to blacken, and there's even some blood seeping out.

The young man lowered his head, glanced at it, crushed the medicinal herbs, took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and raised his hand to apply them to the wound little by little.

In an instant, the wound throbbed with agonizing pain, surging like a tidal wave. It struck him suddenly, causing his body to tremble uncontrollably. He gritted his teeth, enduring the agony, but beads of sweat streamed down his forehead, falling onto the dark ground one by one.

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>became a blur of ink.

The whole process lasted for over ten breaths, until he had completely applied the herbs to the wound. The young man seemed to have suddenly lost his strength, leaning against the medicine cabinet beside him. He took a long time to catch his breath before finally letting out a deep sigh and slowly putting on his clothes.

He glanced again at the sky outside, then pondered for a moment before taking out a tattered map from his waist pouch. He carefully spread it out.

The map is very simple, it just depicts this city.

Inside the pharmacy, all the locations are marked. To the northeast of each location, many areas have been crossed out with fingernail scratches, except for only two areas that remain unmarked.

"After searching these past few days, it should be within these two areas." The young voice was hoarse, mumbling softly. He put away the map and was about to leave.

Before leaving, he turned back to look at the old man's corpse, his gaze falling on the clothes covering it.

It was a leather coat. Perhaps due to the special type of leather, the leather coat wasn't as corroded.

The young boy thought for a moment, then walked over and took the leather coat off the old man's body, putting it on himself.

The jerkin was a bit big, but once it enveloped his slender frame, the young man finally felt a sliver of warmth. He then lowered his head and looked at the old man's open eyes, reaching out to gently cover them so he might rest in peace.

"Rest," the young man whispered, tearing down the curtain inside the bedding and covering the old man's body. He turned and left the apothecary.

As he stepped out, a sliver of light flashed from before his feet. The young man bent down to look and saw a piece of mirror, the size of his palm, embedded in the blood mud. Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate! ?

In the lens, he saw his own face.

In the broken mirror, a face was reflected, though covered in dirt, one could still faintly see that it was an extremely pretty face.

He just lacked the naivete that one would expect from a thirteen or fourteen-year-old, replaced instead by coldness.

The boy silently watched himself in the ground mirror. After a long while, he lifted his foot and stepped on it.

With a click.

Cracks appeared one after another.

After crushing the mirror with one foot, he swayed and dashed away quickly.

On the ground, though the shattered mirror was riddled with cracks, it still reflected the boundless expanse of the heavens, a vast and enigmatic face seemingly covering the world and all its inhabitants, like a remnant of a divine being.

With a cold and indifferent expression, his face turned away, staring up into nothingness. Only strands of withered, curved hair fell down.

That is a natural existence as natural as the sun and moon in this world.

As if beneath it, all beings were ants, and like a startled earthworm, the phenomenon of all things growing was affected by it, forced to change.

And at this moment, the sky too, under the shadow of this divine visage, gradually lost its light.

The shadow of the setting sun, like a black haze, permeated the ruins of the city, covering the earth as if it would devour everything.

The rain grew heavier. As night gradually enveloped the world, the wind also intensified, howling with piercing wails.

Like the enraged roar of a demon, it began to awaken the eerie entities within the city, causing a series of spine-chilling sounds that responded one after another, captivating and terrifying those who heard them.

The running boy, his steps faster and movements more hurried, between the chase with the coming night, he nimbly weaves through the streets.

Until then, as he passed a collapsed house and was about to jump far away using its support, the young man’s pupils suddenly constricted.

He caught sight of someone in the ruins at a distance, through the corner of his eye.

From afar, this person appears to be dressed neatly and seemingly unharmed. They are sitting against the wall. Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

Most importantly, the exposed skin of the other party was normal in color, not bluish-black! Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!

Such a figure, in this city, is impossible to appear unless it is a living person!

...while the living people... these days, besides himself, he hasn't met a second one.

This scene shook him to his core. He quickly seemed to remember something, and his breath became slightly rapid.

One might wish to go, but behind lies a night as murky as smog that has already begun to engulf everything.

The boy hesitated for a moment, remembering the place, and left quickly.

After racing through the night, he finally caught up to it and returned to his temporary residence in this city.

That was a small pit, filled with feathers.

The entrance was narrow, too small for adults to squeeze through. Only teenagers could barely fit in.

After going inside, he skillfully used the books, stones, and other debris in the cave to block the entrance.

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The moment it was completely filled, the darkness outside, for a fleeting instant, passed over.

>

The young boy didn't relax his guard, gripping the iron rod tightly in his hand. He held his breath and crouched there, listening intently for a long time.

Gradually, the roars and mournful cries of strange beasts could be heard, occasionally interspersed with eerie laughter.

Until a clearer roar echoed, within the boy's tension, the sound seemed to pass by like a fleeting moment, gradually becoming faint. Only then did he let out a breath and sit down beside it.

In the darkness of the cave, a boy sat quietly, time seemingly frozen in this moment.

He froze for a moment, calming the nerves that had been on edge all day. He grabbed a water bottle from beside him and took a few sips, ignoring the sounds outside, then pulled out the vulture from his pocket.

>

In the darkness, it was bitten off piece by piece from the edge of one's mouth.

A metallic, astringent taste lingered in his throat, but he swallowed it calmly, pushing the food down into his stomach.

>

Meanwhile, the stomach was also working hard, contracting to digest and relieve hunger.

Soon, the entire vulture was devoured by him. The young boy took a deep breath, and fatigue washed over his body, his eyes slowly closing.

But in his hand, he always held tightly onto the jet-black iron rod, like a lone wolf feigning sleep.

Whenever something seemed amiss, his eyes would flash open instantly.

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Outside, at this moment, the night is like a curtain, covering the city, the land, and even this expanse of sky.

Under the boundless heavens, the world is vast. Nanhua Prefecture, situated overseas, is but a single part of it.

The exact size of the entire world is unknown to most. Only that majestic and imposing visage in the heavens, with its powerful presence, allows everyone who looks up to gaze upon it.

The time when this mask body arrived is unknown.

People only know it from fragmented descriptions in ancient texts: a world once brimming with celestial energy, flourishing and vibrant, until... this immense shard, drawn from the depths of the void, arrived bearing destruction.

In the process of coming, all beings in this world used every means to stop it, but they all failed. In the end, only a few ancient emperors and masters, with part of their clans, abandoned the beings and chose to migrate.

Soon, the grim reaper arrived, hanging in the sky. From then on, nightmares descended.

His breath permeated the entire world, blanketing mountains, oceans, all things and all beings. Even the spiritual energy that cultivators relied on was tainted by it.

All things wither, all beings perish, and none survive.

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From then on, those who had barely survived this disaster, called this half-face... a god.

This world is called the Earth of Dust, and the place where the ancient emperors went was called the Holy Land.

This appellation has been passed down through generations over many eras.

But the calamities brought by the divine are not limited to these; His majesty constantly oppresses all beings, because...

>

Every few years or decades, even centuries, He would open His eyes at irregular intervals, lasting for several breaths.

Wherever it opens its eyes, the area is instantly tainted by its overwhelming presence.

A desolate wasteland, forever a forbidden zone.

Over many eras, the forbidden zones of this world have grown, while the livable areas have shrunk.

And nine days prior, the divine spirit once again opened its eyes, gazing towards the area where the youth resided.

All species within that area, and the dozens of human settlements, whether located inside or outside of their walls, even the poorest slums, were instantly overwhelmed by a powerful contamination, transforming into a forbidden zone of life.

Under this terrifying pollution, all living creatures either disintegrate directly into blood mist, or mutate into mindless monsters. Some have their souls scattered, leaving behind polluted azure-black corpses.

Only a very small number of people and animals can survive.

The boy is one of them.

At this moment, outside the pitch-black cave, a shrill sound grew closer and closer, rousing the sleeping boy from his slumber.

The iron sign in his hand instinctively rose, cautiously looking toward the blocked opening.

Until the chilling sound circled nearby and gradually drifted away, the young man only then let out a breath of relief.

Here's the translation:

He, no longer sleepy, touched the leather pouch and took out a bamboo slip from inside.

In the darkness, he traced the characters on the bamboo slips, his eyes gleaming with a newfound light. Afterward, he straightened his body, closed his eyes, and regulated his breath.

The boy's name was Xu Qing, and he had lived a difficult life alone in the slums outside the city since childhood.

Nine days ago, amidst a sudden and catastrophic upheaval, he found shelter in a crevice. Unlike the others who were consumed by terror and madness, he remained calm, his gaze fixed on the celestial being that had opened its eyes in the sky. He looked into the heavens' eyes, their unique cross-shaped pupils, and it seemed as though fear had been completely absent from them.

...until he saw a purple light descend from the sky and land in the northeast part of the city.

The next moment, he fainted.

After waking up, he became the only survivor inside and outside the city.

But he didn't leave right away.

For he knew that in the forbidden zone formed by the watchful eyes of the divine, there would be blood rain at its inception, forming a barrier.

Those inside cannot get out, and those outside cannot enter, unless the restricted area is fully formed.

And the mark that was formed, was the blood rain stopping.

This disaster was nothing to Xu Qing, who grew up in the slums.

Because in the slums, all kinds of things can take your life at any moment: homeless people, stray dogs, disease, even a cold night. It takes a real struggle just to survive.

As long as one is alive, everything else doesn't matter.

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Of course, even amidst the harsh realities of the slums, there are occasional glimmers of warmth.

For example, some impoverished scholars would make a living by teaching children to read and write, occasionally drawing animal patterns for them, both terrestrial and marine. Apart from that, there were only memories of loved ones.

It was just in Xu Qing's mind, the memories of his loved ones were fading with time. Even though he tried his best to remember them, fearing that he would forget, they were still slowly blurring away.

But he knew that he was not an orphan. He still had relatives, even though they had long been lost.

>

So his ideal was to live.

If I could live a little better, if I had the chance to see my relatives one last time, that would be even better.

Thus, having miraculously survived, he chose to enter the city.

He was going to the upper-class mansions within the city, searching for the rumored method that could empower him, as well as the violet light that had fallen into the city.

And the path to becoming stronger, has always been whispered about in the slums, desired by everyone. They call it cultivation, and those who master the art of cultivation, are known as cultivators.

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Thus, becoming a monk became Xu Qing's greatest wish, aside from his memories of his family.

>

Monks were not uncommon. Xu Qing had seen figures like this enter the city a few times in the slums over the years.

Their typical characteristic is that when you look at them, your body will instinctively tremble.

Even Xu Qing had heard people say that the city lord was a cultivator, and that the guards around him were also cultivators.

So after searching the city for a long time, five days ago, he finally found this bamboo slip in the hand of a corpse inside the City Lord's Mansion.

It was dangerous there, and the wound on his chest came from that time.

What the bamboo slips record is precisely the method of cultivation he yearns for.

He had long memorized all the content on it, and in these past few days, he had even begun to try practicing.

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Xu Qing had never seen other cultivation techniques. This bamboo slip was the only one he obtained, and he didn't know how to cultivate it correctly.

Luckily, most of the descriptions on it are simple and easy to understand, focusing on visualization and breathing.

Therefore, step by step, he did reap some rewards.

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This method is called the Seashore Secret.

The method of cultivation is visualizing the totem carved on bamboo slips, and coordinating breath to inhale and exhale.

This pattern is very strange, it's an alien being with a large head and small body, only one leg, and a whole black body. Its facial features are ferocious like a demon.

Xu Qing had never seen such a creature. The bamboo slips called it a "shao."

At this moment, as he cultivated, after the pattern appeared in his mind, Xu Qing's breathing gradually changed, and dark currents began to swirl in the surrounding air.

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The spiritual energy around him surged in, slowly drilling into his body. It flowed throughout him, sending shivers of bone-chilling cold. Wherever it passed, it felt as if he were submerged in ice water.

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Xu Qing was afraid of the cold, but he endured it and did not give up, still persisting.

>It wasn't until long afterward, when he had finally finished his practice according to the bamboo slips, that his body was soaked in cold sweat.

But just after eating the buzzard's belly, another wave of hunger came over me.

Xu Qing wiped the cold sweat from his brow, then touched his stomach, a determined look in his eyes.

Since he started cultivating this technique, his appetite has noticeably increased a lot, and his body is more flexible than ever before.

All of this gave him a stronger tolerance for the coldness he experienced during his cultivation.

At this moment, Xu Qing raised his head and looked outside through the crack in the entrance.

Outside, it was pitch black, with only the terrifying roars, sometimes loud and sometimes faint, echoing in your ears.

He didn't know the true reason he became a survivor, perhaps by chance, or maybe...he saw the purple light.

So these days, while he was looking for the method, he also kept going to the northeast region to look for where the purple light fell. Unfortunately, he never found it.

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In his thoughts, Xu Qing listened to the roars outside. His mind couldn't help but conjure up the image of the corpse leaning against the wall when the sun set, and his eyes slowly narrowed.

The other party's location is in the Northeast region, and... it seems to be a living person.

"Could it be related to Ziguang?"