The bloody storm six years ago is still happening repeatedly in Ye Chen's dreams. On a torrential rainy night, the Ye family's mansion was brightly lit, and the screams of his parents pierced the sky. The Tang family in Kyoto, like bloodthirsty wolves, not only took away the Ye family's inheritance, but also threw Ye Chen, who had just turned eighteen, into the Shenzhou Prison - a hell on earth that would make even the most ferocious criminals tremble when they mention it.
The iron door slammed shut behind him, and the smell of mildew and blood hit his face. However, no one expected that this prison, which held thirty-six peerless murderers, would become the furnace for Ye Chen's transformation. The descendants of Medicine King Sun Simiao taught him their lifelong medical skills. The God of War in the North taught him the art of killing on the battlefield, and the King of Shadows taught him how to hide and sneak. For six years and more than two thousand days and nights, Ye Chen digested these shocking inheritances in a narrow cell. When his fingertips can twist nine silver needles at the same time, and when his fist wind can leave deep fist marks on the iron wall, the "devils" in the entire prison know that the trapped dragon is about to ascend to heaven.
The morning light pierced the fog, and the heavy iron door opened again. Ye Chen stepped out, the shadow behind him stretched long in the morning sun. He looked back at the prison that had swallowed up six years of his youth, and the corners of his mouth curled up in a cold arc. The Tang family may have thought that the ants back then had turned into dust, but they didn't know that what they released with their own hands was a ferocious beast with sharpened fangs.
"It's time for a reckoning," he whispered to himself, his knuckles turning white. Kyoto in the distance is still prosperous, but soon, the city will tremble with his return.
