The spring wind stirred, and all living things vied for life.

Countless peasant families in Baixi Village began loosening the soil and building ridges, raising the curtain on the spring plowing.

A fine drizzle fell from the sky like silver threads, dampening the people toiling in the fields and leaving them miserable.

Liu Fugui was a withered old man in his sixties. At this moment, he strolled leisurely toward home with his hoe resting on his shoulder, humming a cheerful tune. When the rainwater seeped through his straw cloak and soaked into his clothes, the old man frowned and muttered a few curses at the heavens.

A few months ago, his grandson, Liu Maohou, had suddenly been summoned to the clan's main mansion. Since then, the boy had not returned home at night. The clan had warned him not to speak carelessly or spread rumors, claiming that Maohou was the future of the Liu clan, a literary star descended from the heavens, and that he was studying reading and writing with Liu Ming in the ancestral hall.

But a grandfather knew his own grandson-he knew Maohou was never cut out for studying. Recalling a few fragmented words he had recently heard from other clan members, Liu Fugui understood. His grandson might possess an immortal destiny; he was going to become an Immortal Master!

If his grandson was an Immortal Master, then he was the grandfather of an Immortal Master.

Liu Fugui chuckled happily, his withered body suddenly finding new strength as he headed home.

The Zhou Family

Zhou Hong paced anxiously inside the room, constantly looking out into the distance, both hoping Zhou Ping would appear and praying he would not.

To be safe, he had stationed two servants in the front courtyard's side rooms. He placed Zhou Hu and Zhou Shi-men who had already been with the family for five years-in the side rooms flanking the east and west wings, just a single step away from the back courtyard. He had even armed them to guard against the unexpected.

The four maidservants remained in the back courtyard, accompanying Chen Nianqiu and Madam Huang to offer them some peace of mind.

He could not help but feel a pang of regret. How had his family hired so few guards for the estate? It was far too few.

Just then, the door creaked, startling Zhou Hong. He turned sharply toward the sound. There, beneath the veil of night, he saw a withered figure and murmured, "Father."

The newcomer was Zhou Dashan, already aged beyond recognition. His eyes were clouded, and age spots mottled his skin. A heavy aura of decline clung to him, declaring to all that this old man did not have many days left.

"Where is Ping'er?" Zhou Dashan scanned the room, his voice hoarse and ancient.

Zhou Hong steadied his nerves. "Younger brother went out to handle a matter."

The old man's expression grew desolate. He sat down with great difficulty beside Zhou Hong, then gently grasped his son's hand, remaining perfectly silent.

Zhou Hong had been wracked with worry over Zhou Ping's safety, but feeling the sudden warmth against the back of his hand, his heart trembled.

When he was young, every thunderstorm had terrified him. Zhou Dashan would hold his hand so he could fall asleep in peace. After he grew up, Zhou Dashan had never done this again.

"You and Ping'er are both my children. You must both be well." Zhou Dashan leaned against Zhou Hong, gently patting the back of his son's hand, though the pats grew lighter and lighter.

Father and son sat quietly together, watching the night grow darker until not a single trace of light remained.

Separated from them by only a wall, the Zhou family women sat quietly on a bed. In their midst lay a sleeping two-year-old child, Zhou Chang'an.

Madam Huang's aged face was calm, but her frequent glances outside and the deep worry in her eyes betrayed her restless anxiety. Chen Nianqiu stroked her belly with her eyes tightly shut, silently reciting Buddhist sutras, praying to the Buddha to ensure Zhou Ping's safe return.

Though the Zhou brothers had not spoken a word of it to the family, the women already knew in their hearts.

Time crept toward midnight. The entirety of Baixi Village was dead silent. Only the patter of the drizzling rain remained; even the croaking of frogs and the barking of dogs had ceased.

Liu Fugui lay in bed, lost in slumber. A gratified smile rested on his aged face-perhaps he was dreaming of his grandson Maohou becoming an Immortal Master, and of himself living the pampered life of a great lord.

But the door to his room suddenly let out a soft creak. The sound was swallowed by the rain, failing to wake him. Two men stepped up to his bed, their burly frames casting long shadows over the old man.

A dull thud followed. The old man's head was smashed open by a blunt object. Bright red blood instantly spurted out, soaking the bedding. The old man would never wake again...

This exact scene was playing out across several households in Baixi Village.

Some were startled awake by the men sneaking into their homes, but before they could cry out, they were struck down into pools of blood. Others never woke at all, sinking forever into their dreams.

The thick stench of blood was sealed inside each house by the drizzling rain, as if imprisoning the souls of the dead in tiny cages!

The Liu Clan Estate

Liu Maohou was meditating when he suddenly snapped his eyes open. He looked around in confusion, gripped by an inexplicable, heart-pounding terror.

Liu Ming, who had been on the verge of falling asleep nearby, heard the movement. He hurried over and asked gently, "Hao'er, what is it?"

Because Liu Maohou possessed the aptitude to become an Immortal Master, he could no longer be saddled with a cheap, easy-to-raise peasant name like "Maohou" despite his young age. Instead, he had been formally named Liu Hao according to the clan genealogy.

Liu Hao shook his head. He was, after all, still just a child. "I just suddenly felt a little scared."

Liu Ming looked suspiciously outside but saw nothing amiss. Suddenly, a heavy clap of thunder boomed, startling him.

So it was just thunder. That made sense; children were naturally afraid of thunder.

"It's nothing. Your cousin is here," Liu Ming said, gently comforting Liu Hao.

Liu Hao was the future of the Liu clan. Absolutely nothing could be allowed to happen to him. Even in the dead of night, Liu Ming, Liu Xiu, and several others took turns standing guard over him.

Just then, a brilliant bolt of lightning shattered the sky, jolting everyone from their sleep and starkly illuminating the surroundings.

Frightened, Liu Hao slapped Liu Ming's hand and shouted, "Cousin, there's someone at the door!"

Liu Ming whirled around, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. The lightning flash had illuminated the courtyard, revealing more than a dozen men masked in black cloth standing in the rain. Their faces were twisted in grim malice as they stared into the room. The Liu clan members who had been hiding in the shadows to keep watch had already been left for dead on the rain-soaked ground.

The lightning faded, and everything plunged back into darkness.

"Run!"

Pale with terror, Liu Ming scooped up Liu Hao and bolted toward the inner depths of the estate, screaming at the top of his lungs.

A number of Liu clan members also lived within the main estate. Hearing the commotion, they scrambled out of bed in a panic, only to see several figures surge from the darkness. Blades flashed, and two Liu clan members were run through before they even had time to put on their clothes.

Liu Xiu burst from his room, snatched up a wooden club, and beat back one of the masked men. He roared, "Where are you thieves from? Daring to trespass on my clan's grounds!"

But in the very next moment, several men surrounded him, each wielding cold, gleaming steel.

Even though he was an army veteran, he had no proper weapon in hand and held no advantage. He was no match for a pack of wolves.

During the bitter struggle, a beam of golden light suddenly shot out from the crowd, piercing straight through his thigh. Blood sprayed through the air!

All strength drained from his body, and several sharp weapons immediately skewered him. With a heavy thud, he collapsed into the mud.

"An Immortal Master! It's Zhou Erlang!"

This was the final thought to flash through Liu Xiu's mind before he sank into eternal darkness.

Awakened by the noise, Liu Quan's mind was groggy and muddled. He threw a padded jacket over his shoulders and pushed open his door.

His eyes were bloodshot. The sight that greeted him was a wash of blood-several clan members lay dead upon the ground. The surviving clan members were locked in a desperate struggle with the masked men, their situation hanging by a thread.

Liu Quan felt as if his head were about to split open. The moment he laid eyes on those masked men, he knew they were no common bandits-they were the Wang and Sun clans!

They must have caught wind of the news from somewhere and come to exterminate the Liu clan.

"Run! Do not look back!" Liu Quan screamed hysterically.

Liu Ming, carrying Liu Hao, sprinted deeper into the estate. "Grandfather, come with me!"

Liu Quan's aged body erupted with a sudden burst of strength as he shoved Liu Ming away. "As long as you survive, the Liu clan still has hope!"

"Go! You must protect Liu Hao!"

Without another word, the old man snatched up a nearby hoe and charged resolutely into the fray.

He would burn away the last moments of his life to buy time for Liu Ming to escape!

The other Liu clan members also grabbed their long clubs and hoes, charging with deadly resolve at the masked men.

In their daily lives, they might have been greedy, lazy, or narrow-minded, but they understood the weight of their bloodline. They knew that only if Liu Hao survived would the Liu clan have a future-and only then could their deaths be avenged!