Chapter 1: The Divine Who Walks Among Men
The mountain wind whispered softly through the quiet village of Qingyuan.
Nestled between ancient peaks and misty forests, it was a place untouched by war or greed—where time moved slowly and the troubles of the world seemed like distant myths.
At the edge of the village, a young herbalist knelt beneath a plum blossom tree. His hands were steady as he trimmed the leaves of a rare medicinal herb, the kind that only grew once every three years.
He wore simple robes, faded from use but clean. His black hair was tied loosely behind his head, a few strands drifting across his pale forehead. But it was his eyes that caught most off guard—like crystalline mirrors, they shimmered faintly with silver light when touched by the sun.
To the villagers, he was Luo Qingshen, the quiet healer who never raised his voice, never lost his temper, and never seemed to sleep.
But none knew the truth.
None remembered the name sealed by the heavens, nor the crimes he had committed—if they could even be called crimes. Not even Luo Qingshen himself remembered everything.
Not yet.
He paused, raising his gaze to the distant sky. Clouds drifted like forgotten dreams above the peaks, and for a moment, something stirred in his chest. A pull. A whisper.
"Soon…"
He blinked, and the sensation faded.
With a quiet breath, he stood and returned to the small herbal hut he called home. The villagers greeted him with warm smiles as he passed—old men bowed slightly, children waved, and merchants offered him fruit in exchange for healing salves.
He accepted it all with the same calm expression.
Because here, in this hidden corner of the world, he was free.
No one asked about cultivation realms. No one sensed the sealed storm sleeping beneath his skin. No one knew he had once stood atop the heavens, wielding power that made gods tremble.
He had died to the world.And the world had moved on.
But destiny, like the seasons, could not be ignored forever.
And on that day, high in the mountains beyond the village, something stirred.
A ripple in the qi.A foreign scent on the wind.A predator's shadow watching from the trees.
Luo Qingshen paused at the threshold of his hut.
He did not smile.
"So," he murmured, voice soft as falling snow,"they've found me."