Bearing the Qilin

The teachers at the academy refused to teach Song Zhen spells and supernatural arts. But they never imagined that the densely covered characters on his skin were actually ancient cultivation techniques countless people dreamed of learning.

The teachers thought Song Zhen was unsuited to the martial path. But they never imagined that the monster he had always wanted to be rid of was one of the Four Spirits, alongside the phoenix, tortoise, and dragon: the First Qilin, chief of the hairy creatures.

The First Qilin pressed down on him like a mountain weighing ten thousand jun, unknowingly tempering his body every moment and forging him into a martial golden body.

When someone looked down on him for being born into a poor family, the divine consciousness of the Thunder Department’s Celestial Venerable awakened within him.

Memories of his past and present lives came flooding back, leaving him no choice but to say, “Sorry, I’ll come clean. I’m of imperial blood…”

As Song Zhen trudged along, burdened by the Qilin and his own troubles, he had no idea that countless gifted cultivators were consumed with envy and jealousy.

Cultivators lamented that living in the same era as him was both a blessing and a tragedy.

A blessing, because they could witness an age of grandeur.

A tragedy, because they could only ever gaze at his back.

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