Autumn Maple Town, Great Xia Kingdom.

Inside the Ye Family ancestral hall, an intricately carved sandalwood altar table was laden with offerings. At the center of the hall, an ancient black tripod cauldron stood tall, wisps of incense smoke curling upward from the burning joss sticks.

The door creaked open, and a slender figure slipped inside.

It was a girl of thirteen or fourteen, her delicate features framed by a face no larger than a palm. Yet her beauty was dulled—her hair tangled and unkempt, her eyes vacant and lifeless, like a pearl shrouded in dust.

No sooner had she stepped near the altar than several figures sprang out from the shadows.

"Got you, thief!" A group of brutish servants seized her, gripping her limbs and forcing her to the ground.

"Ugh... ugh..." The girl whimpered in fright, struggling weakly against their hold. But how could she overpower these men? Trained in martial arts since childhood, they had already reached the first level of Body Refinement—mere servants of the Ye Family, yet far stronger than she.

"Ye Lingyue! So it's you, the idiot girl!" The one who spoke was Wang Gui, a trusted lackey of the Ye Family's Sixth Young Master, Ye Qing.

Pinned to the floor was Ye Qing's cousin, Ye Lingyue. Though she bore the Ye name, her status within the family was lower than that of a servant.

Because Ye Lingyue was the family's shame—a simpleton.

"N-no... sick... cleaning," she stammered, her pale face twisted in terror.

"Still lying?" Without hesitation, Wang Gui struck her across the face—once, twice.

As a trained fighter, his blows were brutal. Ye Lingyue's cheeks swelled instantly, but Wang Gui wasn't satisfied. With a vicious kick, he slammed his foot into her stomach.

Her body flew backward like a kite with its string cut, crashing into the massive tripod cauldron with a dull thud.

"The idiot's not moving... Did we kill her?" The servants exchanged uneasy glances as Ye Lingyue lay motionless.

"Die that easily? This dumb girl's been beaten for over a decade and still kicking. The young master's right—some folks are just cockroaches, too wretched to die." Wang Gui's eyes gleamed with malice as his gaze fell upon the incense burner beside Ye Lingyue.

The Ye family ancestral hall had been purchased by the patriarch thirty years prior, and this ancient incense burner had stood there ever since, preserved through the decades.

Wang Gui strode forward, lifting the heavy lid with a clang before scooping a handful of stale ashes. "You lot—prize open the idiot's mouth. Since she loves stealing food, let her feast today."

The servants chuckled cruelly. In their eyes, Ye Lingyue held less worth than a stray dog. They pinned her thrashing limbs, forcing decades of accumulated grime down her throat.

As the choking ashes filled her mouth, something round and smooth slipped down Ye Lingyue's gullet.

The moment it hit her stomach, fire erupted in her dantian. Blistering, bone-melting heat surged through her veins like liquid flame, threatening to reduce her to cinders from within.

"Guh... ack—" Clawing at her throat, the simpleminded girl felt something writhing beneath her skin. Bloody streaks marked her neck as the unbearable heat persisted. In maddened agony, she lunged headfirst at the bronze burner—a sickening crack splitting her forehead open.

"Oh hell—did we actually kill her?" Wang Gui's face drained of color as he checked the motionless girl. The servants exchanged panicked glances. Though treated as garbage, she remained a Ye by blood.

"Don't just stand there! Fetch the young master!" Wang Gui barked, already backing toward the exit. They scattered like roaches in torchlight.

Alone in the ancestral hall, Ye Lingyue's small form lay curled like a discarded doll, crimson pooling around her temple.

The sensation of being engulfed in flames came in relentless waves.

"Mother..." Ye Linyue called out helplessly, but no one answered.

Gradually, the scorching heat faded, only to be replaced by a twisting agony in her internal organs.

Time blurred—how long had passed? Then, a resonant *thud* echoed in her mind, as though something had violently erupted within her dantian.

A flash of crimson light surged through her body, spreading rapidly to every limb. Her fingers twitched.

Her eyes—snapped open. The once-dull gaze now sparkled like morning stars.

The surroundings sharpened into focus as Ye Linyue pushed herself upright.

A sharp glint flickered in her pupils.

Before her stood an ancient, dignified hall, its center dominated by an altar table laden with offerings and ancestral tablets.

"I... have been reborn," she murmured, staring at her hands—small, bony, and marred with scars, the body of a child who had endured relentless cruelty.

She rose to her feet, struggling to piece together the fragmented memories of this body. But the previous owner had been a simpleton, leaving behind only disjointed recollections.

It seemed she would need time to adjust.

As she turned to leave, a faint *sizzling* sound caught her attention.

Not far away, on the aged incense burner, the pool of blood she had spilled when she struck it earlier was undergoing a strange transformation.

Blood seeped into the ancient cauldron at a visible rate.

A chill shot up Ye Lingyue's spine, yet an overwhelming curiosity propelled her forward. The moment her fingers brushed against the vessel's surface—

Whoosh!

The massive cauldron, which normally would have required two or three strong men to lift, dissolved into a streak of black light and vanished into her palm.