Chapter 1: Awakening

“Ugh!”
Wang Liang pressed his head, struggling to open his eyes and see where he was. Yet, when his eyes finally opened, he found the world before him shrouded in darkness. Only a faint oil lamp flickered in the distance, barely illuminating his surroundings.

He was, astonishingly, inside a cell no larger than five square meters. The wall against which he leaned was made of massive blocks of blue stone, while both sides were fenced by thick wooden bars, each as wide as a person's head.

This prison cell was likely underground; even the straw on which Wang Liang lay was damp and tinged with mold. A bucket sat by the door, its purpose all too clear.

From both the left and right sides of the room came faint sounds of breathing—one rapid, the other almost inaudible. It was clear that other people were being held in the cells to either side.

As he pondered further, Wang Liang finally recalled the reason for his predicament. He remembered being falsely accused of colluding with a border general, scheming treason against the state. His entire family had been implicated and executed; all those associated with him had perished, and only he, through the intervention of a eunuch, had been spared death and sentenced to exile in Huan Prefecture.

On his way to exile, he had been captured by bandits and brought here—over twenty days had passed since then.

Rubbing his forehead gently, Wang Liang was struck by a sudden question: why had he just now doubted his own whereabouts?

At that moment, the door outside his cell was suddenly kicked open, and a wave of blood stench swept in from the corridor. Wang Liang stood up, puzzled, and moved to the bars to peer outside. He saw five men and women entering from the corridor.

These five wore strange robes or armor, their hair dyed red, purple, and green, making for an odd spectacle.

What left Wang Liang speechless, however, were the lines of words floating above each of their heads: “Dragon Rider Gunner Yin Zhiping,” “Quick to Speak,” “Racking One's Brains,” and other bizarre titles.

When they reached the corridor outside the cell, the man labeled as Dragon Rider Gunner Yin Zhiping called out in a loud voice, “Hello, everyone! The bandit chief guarding the prison has already been killed by us. I found a key on him, but there’s only one. Who should I set free?”

Hardly had he spoken when a woman’s voice sounded from the cell to Wang Liang’s left.

“Hero, if you release me, I am willing to serve as your loyal follower, your maid.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than a voice came from the cell to Wang Liang’s right. “I have here the secret manual of the Innate Qian-Kun Technique. The bandits locked me up just for this manual. If you let me out, it’s yours.”

Dragon Rider Gunner Yin Zhiping made no immediate choice but looked instead at Wang Liang. “And you?”

“I…” Wang Liang was about to state his identity, but a thought flashed through his mind. “I am skilled in divination and fortune-telling. If you release me, I can read your fortune for you.”

After he spoke, the five did not decide at once but began to discuss among themselves. Wang Liang could make out fragments of their conversation.

“That girl isn’t much to look at, and she has no useful skills. Making her a follower would be a waste.”

“The Innate Qian-Kun Technique is good, but what he’s got must be an incomplete copy. You need fifteen to make a full set, and since we’re only raiding this place once, it’s not worth it. It doesn’t fetch much outside either.”

“The fortune-teller can only divine matters inside the bandit camp. He can’t predict opportunities beyond.”

…

After a brief discussion, Dragon Rider Gunner Yin Zhiping took the key to the cell on Wang Liang’s left and released the girl inside. Without so much as a glance at Wang Liang or the person in the right cell, the group turned and left.

As they walked out the dungeon’s main doors, those doors closed automatically. To Wang Liang’s astonishment, faint breathing once again came from the cell to his left.

What was going on? Hadn’t the person in the left cell just been freed? How could there be another? Was it a human or a ghost?

A sense of unease filled Wang Liang at this strange occurrence. He began to consider how he might escape from this cursed place.

Recalling the words of those five odd individuals, he remembered them saying that the bandit chief outside had already been killed. If he didn’t escape now, when would he ever get another chance?

Without further hesitation, Wang Liang stepped to the barred door. Only then did he notice something he hadn’t realized all this time: although the gaps between the wooden bars were roughly even, for some reason, while he could see everything in the corridor ahead, he could not see into the cells to either side.

He also noticed that the bars were not as sturdy as they appeared. Though the door was secured with an iron chain, the bars themselves were merely fitted together with wood.

If one looked closely, it became clear that they were joined using mortise and tenon joints. Evidently, the craftsmen who built the prison were skilled in their trade.

Wang Liang had once played with puzzle locks and the like; he knew these joints could not be forced open—brute strength would only make it harder. The trick lay in finding the right opening or mechanism; only then could the bars be dismantled.

He carefully felt along every piece of wood, searching for anything he could exploit.

Curiously, his movements drew no attention from those in the neighboring cells. It seemed that no matter what he did, the cells to either side were like separate worlds.

After a thorough inspection, Wang Liang finally found a movable bar—not at the main door, but near the wall adjoining the right-side cell.

Gently, he wiggled the bar and began to manipulate its joints. At last, he managed to pry open a gap—just wide enough for a person to squeeze through into the right cell.

Having removed the bar, Wang Liang looked at the opening and, with a sigh, bowed his head.

As a scholar-official skilled in both literature and martial arts, Wang Liang was a striking figure—over 1.9 meters tall, broad-shouldered, with arms like pillars and a square, righteous face. His fair skin and sturdy build marked him as a handsome man in his prime.

Yet with such a physique, squeezing through that gap would not be easy.

But, unwilling to let the opportunity slip by, he drew a deep breath, sucked in his stomach, and forced his way through into the cell on the right.

Once inside, Wang Liang saw an old man of about sixty, wild-haired and lying on the ground, showing no reaction whatsoever—even as Wang Liang squeezed in, he did not so much as lift his head.

Behind the old man lay several blue-covered books, upon which was written:

Innate Qian-Kun Technique.