Chapter 1: Escaping the Heavens, Embracing the Empire

Daylight stepped barefoot on the cold floor, silently approaching the rosewood desk.
A palm-sized black iron furnace burned quietly with cold flames.
She lowered her gaze, and deep within her molten-gold eyes, the etchings of a clock ticked with precision.
As if struck by a sudden thought, she murmured:
“Alas, tell me, how big does an official have to be to be considered big?”
Only the rustling of a faint breeze answered her.

This was the National Preceptor’s Mansion of the Great Han Empire.
Nestled at the foot of the imperial city, it stood starkly apart from the surrounding bustle.
The mansion itself was grand, constructed entirely of black stone and frost-white timber.
Before its gates stretched a wide, almost desolate avenue, its bluestone path free of dust, flanked by branches that hung motionless.
The entire street, extending from the mansion’s entrance to the distant corner of the palace walls, was empty and silent as death.

As the saying goes, cultivation knows no years.
In the world of immortals, she had experienced much, and over time, many memories had blurred.
Yet she would never forget that one heavy day.
As a modern youth of the 21st century, she had no enemies, no grudges.
But while driving a rented car on a two-lane road, she suddenly saw two massive trucks barreling toward her.
With a mountain wall on one side and no escape, she thought:
Brothers, do you think I can survive this?

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself as the eldest daughter of an immortal cultivation clan.
As a child of the new century, she accepted this setup on the spot.
They say fortune comes with time—surely it’s my turn to get lucky, right?
Wait a minute—what?!
My holy sword?!
After a moment of shock, she grudgingly accepted this new reality.
It’s cultivation, right? How hard can it be to whip up something like that?

Eager to start cultivating and soar to the heavens with her clan’s influence, she discovered her family had been wiped out.
She was the only weed left in the ruins.
What kind of joke is this?!
Fortunately, her talent was decent—no, it was heaven-defying.
From then on, she embraced the Gou Doctrine: hide when you can, never stand out, scheme in the shadows, never rush in recklessly.

Time passed, how long she couldn’t say.

Boom—
A white pillar of light, as if carrying the first ray of dawn at the world’s creation, shot skyward from where Daylight had been in seclusion, ignoring all barriers.
The entire lower realm trembled at the earth-shaking phenomenon, gazes lifting in awe and fear.
“Someone’s about to ascend!”
“Who is it?!”

Above the nine heavens, a groan of unbearable strain echoed.
Daylight’s figure bathed in the core of the ascension beam, slowly rising.
But just as her fingertips brushed the edge of immortal spirit qi—
Boom! Boom!
Two vastly different yet equally terrifying energies descended without warning, shaking the entire lower realm.
One was a domineering will, radiant as the sun.
The other was a torrent of demonic qi, chaotic and ravenous, devouring all in its path.
The Immortal Emperor and the Demon Emperor—they had erupted into a cataclysmic battle!

“Hm?”
“Tch!”
In the next moment, the clashing immortal and demonic flames froze for a fleeting instant.
Two terrifying wills locked onto her.
Then, as if in silent agreement, the forces capable of obliterating an entire world turned their destructive might toward Daylight in her ascension beam.
“She bears an alien origin? Such pure essence of the Dao!”
“Capture her! Refine her! My path to supremacy is at hand!”

She’d become prey—and not just any prey, but the target of two ultimate bosses!
“Damn it!”
Could this script get any more absurd?
After years of lying low, just as she was about to clear the game, two max-level, god-tier bosses jumped out to loot her gear?!

Her survival instinct overpowered everything.
In that critical moment, Daylight’s mind, honed by years of the Gou Doctrine, whirred like a supercomputer.
Deep in her eyes, the clock spun rapidly.
She was calculating—deducing the odds of surviving a combined strike from the Immortal and Demon Emperors and counterattacking.
Her divine sense and spiritual energy poured into the deduction.
In a fraction of a moment, the result came:
Win rate: 99%.

Daylight nearly spat blood.
“99%? That’s basically suicide!”
The first rule of the Gou Doctrine: avoid all risks at all costs!
To hell with ascension! To hell with the immortal realm! Her life came first!
Without hesitation, her body sank sharply.
Boom—
She forcibly reversed the pull of the ascension beam.

“No!”
Beyond the barrier, the Immortal Emperor’s majestic voice carried a rare note of rage.
“You won’t escape!”
The Demon Emperor’s roar brimmed with unwillingness and fury.
The two terrifying forces, now without a target, collided violently, churning the void into chaos.

Now, it was all in the past.
Daylight lounged lazily on a soft couch, her cascading black curls loosely tied, a few strands falling against her neck.
She wore a tailored black velvet qipao, its high collar encircling her slender neck, the slit stopping modestly at her knees, exuding deliberate restraint.
Her long legs, wrapped in sheer black velvet stockings, ended in bare feet, her round toes idly tapping the cold floor.
In the depths of her molten-gold eyes, the ever-turning dark gold etchings coldly surveyed her surroundings.
“Now that I think about it, how high does a cultivator have to climb to be considered high?”

Daylight had given up.
She had poured everything into raising her cultivation, fearing her enemies would find the one blade of grass they’d failed to uproot.
But when she stepped out from under her protective umbrella, she realized it wasn’t even raining.
Why bother cultivating then?

After escaping the Immortal and Demon Emperors, Daylight hadn’t let her guard down.
She’d shown her face to those two monsters—what if they tracked her with some unknown method?
She devised a plan: the greatest force in the world was fortune.
Take herself, for example—decent talent, decent luck, and now she’d achieved something passable.
If that was the case, she’d use fortune to make up for that missing 1%.
But fortune doesn’t appear out of thin air—you have to find those blessed with it.
For Daylight alone, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
Starting a sect was too conspicuous and limited in reach.
So, as a strategist, she aided Liu Qingcang, the Ancestor of Han, in sweeping the six regions to establish the Great Han Empire.
Liu Qingcang became the High Ancestor Emperor, and she became the National Preceptor.

In the 286 years since the empire’s founding, Daylight had served as National Preceptor for just as long.
Sadly, while she found a few people with notable fortune in those years, none met her standards.
They could become wealthy merchants or titled generals, but they couldn’t fill that 1%.
Those people were cheerfully absorbed by Liu Qingcang.
Sure, the old man used her to sift out talent, but Daylight allowed it—mutual benefit makes for lasting partnerships, after all.

Daylight was still slacking off…

In the imperial palace, the 14th emperor, Liu Jun, sat high on the dragon throne, his brows perpetually furrowed.
“Your Majesty, the Jingwu Sect has issued an ultimatum. They demand we lease Hundred Crane City to them within a week—for a term of… 99 years…”
Bang—
Liu Jun slammed his golden goblet down, startling the ministers below.
“Are there no cultivators in my Great Han Empire who can fight?!”
His fiery gaze shot toward the martial generals.
One, pushed forward, spoke hesitantly:
“Your Majesty, those sects have formed an alliance, sharing resources and techniques. If we send our cultivators, they’ll be overwhelmed…”

Liu Jun caught the implication and slumped powerlessly onto the throne.
Was he doomed to cede five cities today, ten tomorrow, just for a night’s peace?

Yin Xuan, the Grand Eunuch, had appeared silently beside the throne.
His tall, emaciated frame was draped in a black python robe, clinging to his bony structure, exuding an inhuman stiffness.
Most striking was the dark gold metal mask covering half his face.
He delivered news that eased the tension in the hall:
“Your Majesty, the Empress is about to give birth.”