Chapter One: The Phoenix Jade Token

City A, an early autumn evening.

The sky blazed with the colors of sunset, and a gentle breeze caressed the air. Feng Liqian, carrying two bottles of Erguotou liquor and a Wang’s Famous Roast Chicken, hummed a tune as she walked into the residential building of the orphanage. “Grandpa, I’m home.”

She was an orphan. When she was two, her father died in a car accident. Not long after, her mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness, given no more than three months to live. Both her parents had themselves been earthquake orphans, raised in the orphanage. With no one else to turn to, her mother brought her back to the orphanage and entrusted her to the old director. That winter, her mother passed away.

The old director lived alone, childless, and treated her as his own granddaughter. For over a decade, he supported her studies and raised her to adulthood. In her heart, the old director was her only family in the world.

Feng Liqian majored in archaeology at university. After graduation, she found a job as an assistant at an archaeological research institute.

Today, she received her first paycheck.

The old director had but one hobby: savoring a few cups of Erguotou and gnawing on Wang’s Famous Roast Chicken. So after work, instead of returning to her dorm, Feng Liqian bought liquor and chicken, heading straight to visit him for a small celebration.

The old director was in high spirits. After a few cups of liquor, the wrinkles on his face seemed to smooth out like a blooming chrysanthemum. “My girl has finally grown up! Qian, there’s something I’ve kept for you for nineteen years. Now it’s time I return it to you.” With that, he set down his cup, stood, and fetched a small red box from the inner room, handing it to her with great ceremony. “Qian, your mother entrusted this to me before she died. She said this is a family heirloom, and asked me to give it to you only after you started working.”

Feng Liqian opened the box. Inside was a phoenix jade pendant. Roughly carved, with an ancient, simple design, it felt warm and smooth to the touch, like congealed fat.

Though her expertise was in bronzeware rather than jade, she immediately recognized it as an antique and took a liking to it at once, turning it over in her hands. “Grandpa, this jade pendant seems quite old. Did my mother say how old it is?”

“She didn’t mention it,” the old director replied, scratching his head, his interest piqued. “Is it really an ancient piece?”

Feng Liqian nodded confidently. “It should be. This phoenix design—I’ve seen something similar on a lacquerware piece from the Western Han period at the institute. The style of carving and the material are also close to jades excavated from that era. But jade is so popular among the common folk and there are too many imitations. I’m not an expert on jade, so I can’t be certain.”

The old director, delighted, suggested, “That’s wonderful. I’ve heard old jades are said to have spiritual energy and can ward off evil when worn. Qian, you work with artifacts all day; this suits you perfectly. Wait here, I’ll find you a red cord.”

Soon enough, he dug out a length of red string, the kind people use for pendants.

The piece was about the size of an ordinary jade pendant, already drilled with a small hole, perfect for wearing around the neck. At his insistence, Feng Liqian threaded the cord through the pendant and hung it around her neck.

The old director’s eyes sparkled as he praised her beauty, his expression as though he had finally completed a great mission. Seeing this, Feng Liqian’s eyes grew moist. She quickly picked up the bottle, pretending to pour him another drink to hide her tears.

That evening, the old director drank a little too much. Holding her hand, he rambled on with life advice—urging her to stay humble, but never to be timid or afraid… In short, he nagged endlessly as if delivering a last will and testament.

Feng Liqian thought he was just drunk, pushed aside her unease, and prepared to help him to his bedroom as usual to sleep it off.

But the old director pressed her hand and nodded at the bottle on the table. “Qian, I haven’t even finished half the bottle—how could I be drunk? Now that I’ve seen you grow up, I’ve fulfilled your mother’s last wish. I’m so happy I just can’t stop talking.”

Before she knew it, the clock was striking nine. After chatting a while longer, Feng Liqian finally took her leave.

The old director personally escorted her downstairs, watching her figure disappear into the night. He gazed at the dark horizon for a long time before straightening his back and returning inside.

That night, the old director had a nightmare. He dreamt he was inexplicably crushed under Mount Tai, his chest so heavy he could hardly breathe. He woke to find himself engulfed by an oppressive shadow.

Somehow, three masked figures in black cloaks had appeared at his bedside.

The one in the middle furrowed his brow and greeted him in a deep, resonant voice, “Third Elder, it’s been a long time!”

Even after over a hundred thousand years, they still recognized the man on the bed as the one who had escaped them long ago—the Third Elder of the Feng family. This old man possessed two great skills: soul repair and escape.

Seeing that the old fox was only briefly startled before regaining his composure, they immediately realized they were a step behind. After so many eons, he’d likely already restored that girl’s soul. They had miscalculated—she must have successfully reincarnated!

The old director felt the pressure on his body intensify. His blood surged; a metallic taste rose in his throat. Closing his eyes, he laughed softly. “Old, so old—useless now. What took you so long? I almost thought I’d never see you three again.” Having dodged fate for so many millennia, he had finally been found.

A hundred thousand years ago, the Hua clan, allied with the great families of the divine realm, waged war against the Fengs. Because the Third Elder possessed the art of soul restoration, the Feng patriarch sent him out of the celestial realm as planned at the moment of crisis.

But plans never keep pace with change. Feng Ling fell. The saintess’s remnant soul vanished.

The Third Elder searched the three realms for nearly a hundred thousand years before finding the Feng family’s inheritance jade slip, which sealed the saintess’s soul, in the cycle of reincarnation.

Reality was harsher than he expected. The jade slip was missing a corner; the main soul was gone; only a sliver of spirit remained.

But the Feng family’s legacy was at stake—how could he give up lightly? He hid among mortals, pouring his heart and soul into mending the saintess’s spirit.

Heaven had mercy. Just as his life was nearing its end, twenty-one years ago, he finally restored the saintess’s three souls and seven spirits, and sent them into the wheel of reincarnation.

Thus, Feng Liqian was born.

A father named Feng Yan, a mother named Li Jing, a father lost to a car accident at age two, a mother dead at three—these were all stories the Third Elder invented to deceive Feng Liqian.

In reality, her parents in this life were both alive and well. The Third Elder spent three years finding her, then spirited her away without anyone the wiser, raising her himself.

Now, having brought Feng Liqian to adulthood and arranged for her future as best as he could, he felt his duty complete. So when faced with the three nemeses with whom he had battled wits for so many aeons, he felt nothing but a profound relief.

The masked man in the center sneered, “Feng San, where is the jade slip?”

The old director opened his eyes, looked at the shadow with delight, and answered honestly, “You’re too late. I’ve already given it to its rightful owner.”

“And the person?” The man’s anger grew, his voice as cold and sharp as ice and steel.

“Gone,” the old director replied, spitting a mouthful of blood and sprawling on the bed, his bloody mouth split in a satisfied laugh.

One of the trio shouted furiously, “Feng San, don’t think a mere Concealment Talisman can protect that brat. With the three of us here, she’ll never see tomorrow’s sun!”

Yet it was precisely the “mere” Concealment Talisman that had allowed him to slip away from these three time and again. The old director stifled his laughter, turned his back to them in a gesture of silent mockery, and said no more.

“Damn it!” One masked man’s eyes blazed with murderous intent; his fist cracked as he lunged toward the bed.

“Second Brother!” The leader yanked him back, sighing, “He’s already gone.” How could a man whose cultivation was lost, his life force nearly spent, possibly withstand the pressure the three of them had just unleashed?

Indeed, the old director’s body on the bed withered and crumbled at a speed visible to the naked eye, until nothing remained but a small pile of dust.

The leader raised his right hand and commanded, “Condense.”

A miracle occurred. The dust reformed into the old director’s corpse.

The third man nodded in understanding. “Brother, your idea is best. The people of this world like to gather the deceased’s friends and family for some kind of memorial. I refuse to believe we won’t be able to pick out that brat!”

The next afternoon, Old Wang from next door came by as usual to play chess with the old director and discovered his condition. He promptly notified the orphanage and called Feng Liqian.

The old director passed away at seventy-one, a founding figure of the orphanage. A grand funeral was held in his honor.

Two days later, after the funeral, mourners departed in twos and threes. Only Feng Liqian remained by the grave, unwilling to leave. The old director was gone, taking with him her last bond of kinship in this world. Now, she truly was a rootless orphan.

Suddenly, a voice rang out behind her, strong and clear, “Feng Liqian!”

Startled, she spun around. Three tall men had appeared behind her, clad in black hooded robes and masks, only their eyes visible. “Who are you?”

The old director had always loved practical jokes, so Feng Liqian had grown up hard to scare. But in this setting, to see three tall, menacing, black-clad figures appear out of nowhere would terrify even a god.

The one in the middle chuckled, “Who we are? On the Road to the Underworld, that old fox Feng San will tell you everything!”

Crows seemed to caw overhead.

What on earth—was this a horror movie shoot?

“You, you…” Feng Liqian was dumbstruck, feeling the chill wind stirring about her, the hair on her arms standing on end.

At that moment, a glint of amusement, like a cat toying with a mouse, flickered in the man’s eyes. He raised his right hand. His middle finger lit up as if by magic, and a bright spot, the size of a peanut, drifted out. Like a balloon, it swelled, quickly expanding into a fist-sized ball of crackling blue light, and it kept growing.

A magician? How fantastical! Feng Liqian clapped her hands over her mouth, barely stifling a scream.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” the man sighed. “Girl, to die by my hand is an honor.” How time changes things. Who would have thought that the legendary saintess would reincarnate as an ordinary mortal—and that he, once a great protector, would one day cast spells on an ant.

As he spoke, the ball of light swelled to the size of a basketball. With a flick of his finger, it shot straight at her face.

At last, Feng Liqian realized these men were not here to tease her. She ducked, arms over her head, crying, “No—”

In that instant, the phoenix jade at her throat erupted with a blinding arc of white light.

Clang! The two forces collided mid-air with the ring of clashing blades.

The ball of light exploded in a shower of sparks.

A wave of searing heat rippled outward.

“Ah—” Feng Liqian’s body traced an arc through the sky, becoming a tiny black speck that vanished into the endless blue…

Only the three assassins remained, staring at one another in shock.

“Brother, what…?”

“We’ve been tricked!”

“After her!”

New story, new beginnings—the author humbly begs for bookmarks, recommendations, reviews, and votes of all kinds.

“The Celestial Tome, Book 1—Chapter One: The Phoenix Jade Pendant” complete!