Ten Thousand Tribulations as My Crown, Ten Years to Hone One Sword

Shen Ye never warns anyone. He can see the “calamity” hanging over others. When its energy takes the shape of a snake, death is certain within three days. When it takes the shape of a beast, they will perish within seven. But no one believes him when he warns them. And every moment he looks, he takes on a day of calamity himself. Look for three moments, and he suffers a high fever for three days. Look for five, and his life hangs by a thread. Sixteen years later, Shen Ye stands beneath the Heavenly Ascent Staircase of the Qingming Sect. Its 3,600 stone steps devour the calamity energy of those taking the trials, funneling it into the calamity furnace beneath the sect gates. The entire Qingming Mountain is one enormous conspiracy. And in his palm, a black-and-gold eye is slowly opening. “Your Heart-Questioning Trial isn't this one,” says a middle-aged man in a green robe, watching him warily. “You're stronger than your father,” Shen Yu says with a laugh as he's dragged away. “You can see,” a white-robed youth silently mouths to him from among the thirty-six people between them. Everyone is saying strange things to him. Everyone is hiding the same thing. Shen Ye clenches his fist and steps onto the first stair. He doesn't know who's lying. He doesn't know if his father is dead or alive. He doesn't know what the eye in his palm is. But it doesn't matter. All he has to do is survive to the end. Then he'll settle the score with each of them, one by one.