Li Xuanyin wakes amid a splitting headache and a burning sensation in his internal organs. He finds himself dressed in strange clothes, a cheap T-shirt and jeans, lying beside a foul-smelling iron box that moves, a dumpster.
He forces himself upright and warily looks around. Towering “crystal palaces” that reach into the clouds and blaze with light, “iron beasts” racing along the road, and the glowing “little mirrors” in pedestrians’ hands all leave him deeply shaken.
“What place is this? Some kind of sorcery?” He is on guard. He tries to summon his inner power, only to find himself empty. That cup of poisoned wine seems to have destroyed years of cultivation.
A few drunken youths pass by. Seeing his strange behavior, they come over to pick a fight. Though the prince has lost his inner power, he still remembers how to fight on the battlefield. A few punches and kicks are enough to knock them down, and the icy murderous intent in his eyes sends them fleeing in terror.
In an old wallet dropped by one of the thugs, he finds identification for “Li Xuan.” He stares at the photo, which looks remarkably like him, and furrows his brow. “Who is this man… and who am I?”
