PBSE 05

Chapter Five – Did You Forget?

Author: Wei Yi Yong Heng 
Date: 2014-12-24

“Despicable, shameless, vile, lowly, malicious…”
Sitting before the cliff, Qin Mo poured out every curse he could think of.

But such venting did nothing to change the challenge that awaited him a year later.
Even though he couldn’t gauge Lin Yue’s cultivation level, he knew that his current strength — only five hundred and fifty jin — would never be enough to oppose her. She was clearly a cultivator who had already opened her meridian apertures — someone in the Opening Meridian Realm, capable of crushing him with ease.

With Lin Yue’s talent, she might even break through to the Crown-Infusion Realm within a year, while he could only dream of opening even a single aperture.

Thinking of that “cheap old man” of his — the father who had traded his own life for so many things — filled Qin Mo with deep resentment.
He was unwilling. He was utterly unwilling…

“Unwilling?”
Qin Lin appeared silently behind him.

Qin Mo didn’t turn around. His chest was full of frustration. If he didn’t know that he couldn’t possibly hurt Qin Lin, he would’ve already turned and punched that “cheap old man” in the face.

“You think I’m despicable, shameless, vile, lowly, malicious?”
Qin Lin stood beside him, gazing at the clouds beyond the cliff, smiling faintly.
“Well, things have already gone this far. Nothing can change that. Why not vent your anger as freely as you did in the great hall earlier?”

“You—” Qin Mo wanted to curse again, but when he saw the calm expression on Qin Lin’s face, the words stuck in his throat.
Instead, he demanded, “Even a tiger doesn’t eat its cubs. What kind of parent does what you did?”

“A tiger doesn’t eat its cubs — good saying!”
Qin Lin suddenly turned his gaze on him. Those deep, piercing eyes seemed to see right through Qin Mo, making him shiver involuntarily.

“Your change has surprised me,” Qin Lin said, withdrawing his gaze.
Then he took a small box from his sleeve and handed it over. “This is yours.”

“Mine?” Qin Mo stared in disbelief at the box before him.

“Don’t want it?” Qin Lin smiled and made as if to take it back.

Of course Qin Mo wanted it. He snatched the box, opened it, and when he confirmed that it contained a Blood-Congealing Pill — a pill that could open meridian apertures — all his resentment vanished, replaced by excitement.

Then, puzzled, he asked, “Why would you give something so precious to a useless person like me?”

“Because you are my son,” Qin Lin said calmly, still looking into the distance.
“Besides, you earned it. Of course, I’m not giving you any of the spirit stones.”

A warmth spread through Qin Mo’s heart. Suddenly, he understood. The hatred he’d felt toward Qin Lin completely melted away.

“In that situation, maintaining the tribe’s honor while also gaining an advantage wasn’t easy. But you didn’t disappoint me — consider it a test you passed,” Qin Lin explained.

“What if I had accepted the marriage withdrawal back then?” Qin Mo asked suddenly.

“Then this would have belonged to the tribe,” Qin Lin said evenly.
His calm tone sent a chill through Qin Mo’s body.

Holding the box, Qin Mo laughed bitterly. “This Blood-Congealing Pill might help me open a meridian, but it doesn’t guarantee I’ll defeat Lin Yue.”

“True,” Qin Lin nodded. “Though the Blood-Congealing Pill is precious, it only gives a fifty-percent chance to open a meridian.
And since your bloodline is of the white grade, below the nine-star bloodlines, your success chance is only ten percent.”

Qin Mo’s face turned pale as death. Hope, once rekindled, again collapsed — like a man who had just climbed out of a pit, only to fall into an abyss.

“So, in the end, I’ll still die — killed by that beautiful woman,” Qin Mo said helplessly.

“Not necessarily,” Qin Lin said suddenly. “The white bloodline may be born useless — like a chicken’s rib, tasteless yet a pity to discard — but there is one way to merge with a higher bloodline’s gift.”

“What way?” Qin Mo asked.

“Find someone with a high-grade nine-star bloodline and fuse with it.
After fusion, you’ll only gain half the effect of that bloodline — perhaps even without awakening its power — but you’ll at least be able to cultivate,” Qin Lin explained calmly. “That is the one advantage of the white bloodline.”

The glimmer of hope that had just appeared quickly dimmed again.
Though Qin Mo had only been in this world for two months, he already knew how rare high-grade bloodlines were.

In the tribe, the so-called genius Qin Yu had only an intermediate red bloodline.
Above red was orange, but the entire Hammerstone Tribe didn’t have a single orange bloodline — much less anything higher.

“Fusion comes at a terrible price, doesn’t it?” Qin Mo asked quietly.

“The person who helps you fuse the bloodline will die without question,” Qin Lin said, calm and cold.

“I see,” Qin Mo nodded, hope fading again, replaced by confusion and despair.

“Disappointed?” Qin Lin’s gaze hardened. “Have you forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?” Qin Mo asked in a low voice.

“Forgotten how our human race rose from weakness? Forgotten how our ancestors were mere blood food for the hundred clans before the War of Creation?” Qin Lin said solemnly.

“The War of Creation…”
Of course Qin Mo hadn’t forgotten. From the moment he arrived in this world, he had learned the history of the human race.

He lived on the Xuanhuang Continent, enclosed by the Great Xuanhuang Realm.
In the First Era, there were a hundred mighty royal clans.
Humans were nothing — mere livestock for them, worse than pigs or dogs.

But at the end of that era, a human powerhouse rose — Pangu.
He led the humans in rebellion, waging war against the hundred clans.
He became the first Sacred Emperor of Humanity, breaking the endless cycle of slaughter and subjugation. The humans became the greatest threat to the hundred clans.

That war — the War of Creation — opened the heavens for the human race and established their own destiny.

The heavens bled, the earth wept, and even the world itself trembled.
Pangu, with his own body, forged the Great Xuanhuang Realm to protect humanity.

From then on, the human race had a home — the Xuanhuang Continent — and earned its fearsome reputation as the strongest race.
That was the War of Creation — the end of the hundred clans and the rebirth of mankind.

“Did you forget? In the Second Era, the Sacred Empress Nüwa arose…”
At this point, even Qin Lin’s usually calm face showed passion.
“When the hundred clans invaded again, they mocked our Empress as a mere woman.
Yet in the War to Mend the Heavens, ten of their royal Sacred Emperors were slain, their blood refined into the Xuanhuang Realm.
From then on, humanity no longer feared the hundred clans!”

“Did you forget? In the Third Era, the Sacred Emperor Fuxi rose…”
“Did you forget? In the Fourth Era, the Sacred Emperor Suiren rose…”
“Did you forget? In the Fifth Era, the Sacred Emperor Taihao rose…”
“Did you forget? In the Sixth Era, the Sacred Emperor Shennong rose…”
“Did you forget? In the Seventh Era, the Sacred Emperor Chiyou rose…”
“Did you forget? In the Eighth Era, the Sacred Emperor Xuanyuan rose — still guarding the Central Xuanhuang City today, ushering in our race’s greatest age…”

Eight times Qin Lin asked, and eight times his words thundered in Qin Mo’s heart, stirring waves of emotion.

This was the history of the human race on the Xuanhuang Continent —
From weak, enslaved blood food to the mightiest of all races.
Across eight eras, eight Sacred Emperors had risen.
Each era ended with the fall of one Emperor and the rise of another.
Now, at the close of the Eighth Era, only Emperor Xuanyuan remained, seated in the heart of the Central Xuanhuang City.

Thus — the Sacred Emperor is the Heaven of Humanity.
The Sacred Emperor is the Earth of Humanity.
The Sacred Emperor is the Honor of Humanity.
And that honor is the destiny of the human race itself.