Across the land of Huaxia lie fourteen dragon veins, tied to the fate of the nation and the lives of its people.
Chen Qingxuan was born with the Eye of Truth, able to see through yin and yang and glimpse the flow of fortune. A feng shui prodigy unseen in a century, all he wanted was to keep a small shop, Qingxuan Pavilion, in the old street, reading fortunes and assessing homes to earn a living.
Until that night, on the banks of the Canglang River, when the last elder guarding the dragon veins turned to ash before his eyes.
With his dying breath, the old man placed the seed of his inheritance inside Chen Qingxuan, leaving behind only a jade token engraved with the character “Guard.”
From that moment on, Chen Qingxuan became the new generation's Night Watchman of the Dragon Veins.
His enemies were the Kyukiku Sect of Dongying, which had been plotting for a century. They used urban planning as a chessboard, subway tunnels and residential developments as dragon-locking stakes, siphoning the dragon veins' energy and nurturing reincarnation cocoons in an attempt to seize all of Huaxia's earth veins.
“The dragon-locking stakes aren't draining dragon energy. They're draining your blood. Your grandfather's blood.” The enemy took off his gold-rimmed glasses and smiled at him. “And you're the final key.”
This was a war that had already begun in 1938.
Bloodline as the guide, dragon veins as the wager. Chen Qingxuan had only a peachwood sword, three copper coins, and half a length of ink line that an elder had traded his life to preserve.
Through the endless night, I am the torch. While the dragon veins endure, so shall I.
