C4 First Land

As he forcefully swiped down, a brilliant light flashed, capturing the attention of all who were present.

"Is that a book? It's called the 'Great Creation Ceremony!'"

Suddenly, the tome flung open, and a powerful suction pulled everyone inside.

The next day, at the Wang family's martial arts field on the First Land, the air was thick with tension.

"Wang Feng, you're nothing but a disgrace to the Wang family. Why don't you just die?"

"Each member of the Wang family is a paragon of excellence. It's baffling where a good-for-nothing who can't cultivate like you came from."

"Such a disgrace, you truly tarnish the Wang family's name!"

Wang Feng faced the young men's venomous words with an impassive face, yet his chest swelled with a suppressed rage. He held back, though, knowing that a gentleman's revenge need not be swift—he lacked the power for now.

Wang Feng was, in fact, not of this world. He hailed from Earth, the last of the Aethervein lineage. His journey through a Western Zhou Dynasty tomb had catapulted him into this realm—the First Land.

Here, the Way of Heaven had crumbled, the twilight of the gods had come, and immortals were no more.

Upon awakening, Wang Feng struggled to come to terms with his new reality, but he gradually accepted his fate as a transmigrant, an unwanted outcast even in his own family.

In the First Land, where martial arts reigned supreme and the pursuit of ascension was universal, Wang Feng stood out as the kind of outcast unable to cultivate. If he were an ordinary person, it wouldn't be so problematic, but he was the nephew of Imperator Wang Qianxiong, who had no sons, only nine daughters.

"The humiliation you've dealt me, I, Wang Feng, vow to repay it twofold someday!"

With these silent words echoing in his heart, Wang Feng turned and walked away, his expression stoic. But the group had no intention of letting him off easily.

"Hmph, you think you can just walk away? Today, you won't leave unless you crawl between my legs!" sneered one of the finely dressed youths, his face twisted with insolence.

In Wang Feng's recollection, the youth was named Wang Jian, a member of the Wang family's side branch, blessed with considerable talent. His father held the position of an Outer Sect Manager, and he had an elder brother who was the top disciple within the Outer Sect.

Wang Qianxiong, lacking a son, positioned Wang Feng as the frontrunner for succession. Despite being considered worthless, he still attracted envy and resentment.

Wang Feng paid no heed to Wang Jian, his gaze steely as he trudged forward, fists clenched tightly.

"Did you not hear Brother Wang Jian? Thinking you can leave without crawling between my legs?" A young man at Wang Jian's side quickly stepped up, blocking Wang Feng's path with a mocking sneer.

"What's your intention, Wang Jian?" Wang Feng halted, fixing Wang Jian with an icy glare.

"Heh, it's quite simple. Crawl between my legs!" Wang Jian chuckled, squatting and spreading his legs wide.

"Leave some room, Wang Jian. We might meet again someday. Don't go too far!" Wang Feng's forehead veins throbbed as he gripped his fists even tighter.

"Going too far? I'm bullying you, so what?" Wang Jian's expression turned icy as he landed a punch squarely on Wang Feng's nose, blood spraying in all directions.

The blood trickled down to the pendant on Wang Feng's chest, which glowed briefly as it absorbed the blood, unnoticed by all.

"Let me make this clear: you're not leaving today unless you crawl," Wang Jian stated coldly.

True warriors face life and death head-on, unafraid of bloodshed. They either perish in silence or erupt with fury.

And now, Wang Feng was teetering on the brink of an outburst. He was not the same Wang Feng who would tolerate indignities indefinitely. His patience had a limit, and once crossed, a tempest would follow.

"Move it, crawl through!" The others mistook Wang Feng's silence for fear and jeered.

"Crawl, I will crawl!"

Wang Feng's hands showed protruding veins as he clenched them, his voice deep and head bowed, a sinister smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

As they drew closer, Wang Jian and his companions laughed with reckless abandon. Wang Feng joined in with a laugh, though his was chilling and ominous. Yet, this went unnoticed by the others.

"What are you all doing?"

Just as Wang Feng was about to retaliate against Wang Jian in a rather sensitive manner, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"Wang Mingzhu!"

Recognizing the newcomer, Wang Feng instantly recalled her name.

Wang Mingzhu, the ninth daughter of the Wang family, was immensely talented and deeply cherished by Wang Qianxiong. She was also revered as a goddess by the family's younger members.

Adorned in a pale pink gown that swept the floor, Wang Mingzhu's slender waist was accentuated by a cloud-patterned belt. A seven-jeweled coral hairpin nestled in her hair, setting off her stunning features. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall.

"Are you bullying Wang Feng again?" Wang Mingzhu demanded, hands on her hips, her gaze fierce.

"Cough, cough, of course not. We were merely having a casual conversation, right Wang Feng?" Wang Jian replied with a forced cough, attempting to sound casual while sending a veiled threat with a narrow-eyed glance toward Wang Feng.

"Exactly, Miss Mingzhu. We were just chatting, we didn't bully Wang Feng," the others quickly chimed in.

"Wang Feng, your turn to speak," Wang Mingzhu insisted, not convinced by the others. She gestured towards him expectantly.

"Wang Feng, remember, we were only talking. Think carefully before you speak," Wang Jian warned, fixing Wang Feng with a glare that held a menacing chill.

The Wang family, with its military heritage, had family laws that evolved from military codes. Although there were only eight, the consequences for breaking them were severe. One such rule strictly prohibited infighting among family members, with violators stripped of their abilities and cast out. This was the leverage Wang Jian held over Wang Feng.

"Quiet! I didn't ask for your input. Wang Feng, speak up," Wang Mingzhu commanded, shooting Wang Jian a withering look before turning her expectant gaze back to Wang Feng.

"They weren't picking on me; we were simply having a conversation," Wang Feng declared, no longer the timid man he once was. He wouldn't cower behind a woman. As a man, he was determined to seek his own revenge with dignity.

"Mingzhu, why can't you trust me? I told you, we were just talking," Wang Jian said with a chuckle upon hearing her doubts. He cast an approving glance at Wang Feng, silently commending him for being wise and knowing how to handle the situation.

"Is that the truth? Don't be scared, Wang Feng. Speak up, and I'll stand up for you," Wang Mingzhu said, ignoring Wang Jian and focusing her gaze on Wang Feng.

"No, I'm speaking the truth," he insisted.

"You..." Wang Mingzhu, trembling with rage and pointing at Wang Feng, was too furious to speak.

After a moment, Wang Mingzhu sighed deeply and said, "You'd better look after yourself." She turned and walked away, her face etched with disappointment.

Wang Feng remained composed, unaffected on the surface, but he made a solemn vow to himself: "I will not forget the kindness Wang Mingzhu has shown me today. I will repay it twofold."

"Haha, Wang Feng, you know what's good for you. We'll let today's incident slide. Let's go," Wang Jian said, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he watched Wang Mingzhu storm off. He slapped Wang Feng on the shoulder with a laugh, then gestured for the group to leave.

As Wang Jian's retreating figure disappeared, Wang Feng made a silent oath: "For today's disgrace, I will make you pay back a hundredfold!"

Leaving the martial arts field, Wang Feng navigated through the bustling courtyard. At every turn, he encountered cutting and unpleasant remarks.

"Look, that's the good-for-nothing Wang Feng. If I were him, I would've taken my own life long ago."

"Exactly. What's the point of living like that, only to be scorned by everyone?"

"He's just squandering the Wang family's resources. Dead, he'd waste the nation's land. He's nothing but a blight."

"The disgrace of the Wang family!"

Accustomed to the constant chatter, Wang Feng was unfazed. He continued on, his expression stoic, as if the words went in one ear and out the other.

After navigating several courtyards, the environment became desolate, with weeds sprawling across the neglected grounds. This was the residence of Wang Feng.

As he pushed open the dilapidated courtyard gate, it creaked loudly. An elderly man with graying hair hurried over, asking with urgency, "Young Master, have you returned?"

This man was Wang Feng's sole servant, known only by his surname, Lee. Thus, Wang Feng had always referred to him as Old Lee.

"Yes, Old Lee, I'm heading to my room. Make sure I'm not disturbed," Wang Feng murmured, issuing the order.

"Of course, Young Master. You won't be disturbed," Lee assured him.

Within his room, Wang Feng sat on his bed, poring over his past memories. He refused to accept that a man of his stature was incapable of cultivation.

"Why is everything before my seventh birthday a blank slate? And why do I have no recollection of my parents?"

Wang Feng's memories suggested that he had only come to live at the Imperator's Mansion after the age of seven. His whereabouts before then were a mystery. He wasn't always unable to cultivate; in fact, he was considered a prodigy until the age of ten. But after that, he had transformed into his current state.

Since then, his personality had also shifted, becoming increasingly timid. He had gone from a genius to a figure of ridicule, a disgrace to the Wang family.

Wang Feng remembered his uncle, Wang Qianxiong, treating him well, but after he turned ten, his uncle began to distance himself, eventually ignoring him altogether.

Yet, there was one person who remained steadfastly by his side: his housekeeper, Lee, who had taken meticulous care of him. Without Lee's support, Wang Feng might not have survived, and for that, he held deep respect for the man.

"This means my inability to cultivate isn't innate; something must have happened when I was ten," Wang Feng concluded.

"But what occurred that year? Why can't I remember anything? If I can't identify the cause of my inability to cultivate, how will I ever seek revenge?"

"What happened when I was ten that turned a genius into a cripple? And why did my own uncle become so indifferent?"

"These questions can wait. The immediate priority is to embark on the path of martial arts and begin my cultivation!"

Wang Feng racked his brain, reminiscing about his past life where he was the last of the ancient Aetherveins on Earth. He was second to none in that regard, yet when it came to the art of cultivation, he was completely clueless, having never even heard of it before.

In his previous life, he may have been a prodigy, but now, he found himself utterly worthless, with a constitution even weaker than the average person.

However, there was one silver lining: he still had a cultivation technique etched in his memory, albeit an unfamiliar one.

"What the heck, I might as well give it a shot. Maybe I'll manage to pull it off!" Wang Feng thought, resorting to a last-ditch effort. After all, this was his sole opportunity for vengeance.

"Sink the Qi to the dantian, let the Qi follow the heart, transform Qi into vigor, and vigor into force!"

Muttering the mantra to himself, Wang Feng embarked on his cultivation journey. Just then, a peculiar voice echoed in his mind.

[Beep. Host recognition successful. The Creation System will now commence!]