Du Xuan, the Immortal Venerable Qingxuan of the Immortal Realm, was one step away from attaining the Great Dao when the junior brother he trusted most stabbed him through the heart from behind.
When he opened his eyes again, he had become a poor Daoist living in a dilapidated temple deep in the Zhongnan Mountains.
The temple was drafty, his apprentice was a simpleton, and the rice jar was empty. They couldn't even afford a bowl of porridge. Worse still, this wretched place was drained of spiritual energy, and belonged to the legendary Age of Declining Dharma.
The good news: he knew alchemy and swordsmanship, and carried a Venerable Immortal's memories of ten thousand years in his head.
The bad news: to get a decent meal, he first had to fight a five-hundred-year-old giant serpent for medicinal herbs.
Run into a serpent while gathering herbs? Trade it a pill.
Apprentice hungry? Head into the mountains to find food.
Someone looking for trouble? Cut them down with one sword.
He thought he'd spend this life growing vegetables, raising snakes, and teasing his foolish apprentice in the Zhongnan Mountains, enjoying a carefree existence. Then a copper fragment engraved with the word “sword” revealed a tremendous secret hidden in the mountains: someone had been waiting for him here for two thousand years.
A sword, a cave dwelling, and a golden hou that had waited two thousand years.
And someone who looked exactly like him.
“This time, I'm done playing around.”
“I'm going to make them pay.”
One man, one flood dragon, one hou, and one foolish apprentice.
Du Xuan and his crew set out from the Zhongnan Mountains and headed east.
Someone was waiting for him.
They had waited two thousand years.
