Beyond the imperial capital of the Great Qin Dynasty, in the heart of the Central Plains, lay an ancient primeval forest. The woodland was sparse with undergrowth, dominated instead by towering millennia-old trees whose intertwined branches stretched skyward, their lush foliage forming emerald clouds that blotted out the azure heavens.

"Chitter-chatter..." A scrawny macaque swung through the vines with effortless grace, scratching its head and reveling in its carefree existence.

Suddenly, its beady eyes darted about as if catching sight of something peculiar. It leaped onto a sturdy branch and peered downward, curiosity flickering in its gaze.

Growing impatient, the monkey slowly descended along the trunk, landing softly on the bed of fallen leaves below. Cautiously, it crept toward a motionless figure lying a few feet away.

Qi Yun's body was wracked with cold, his mind trapped in a foggy stupor. Just as he struggled to open his eyes, an itch flared in his nose—a violent sneeze jolted him awake.

"Where am I?" His eyes snapped open, clouded with confusion, but only for a fleeting moment. Instinct took over, and he sprang to his feet with startling speed.

"Scree—!" His sudden movement sent the macaque scrambling up a gnarled tree in panic. Only when it deemed itself safe did it peer down at Qi Yun, its tiny heart still pounding.

Ignoring the creature, Qi Yun sucked in a sharp breath the moment he steadied himself. A searing pain radiated through his bones as if they were on the verge of shattering. His brows furrowed deeply—this agony was foreign to him.

For over a century, he had never suffered so much as a scratch. The state of his body now left him both bewildered and alarmed.

"What in the—?" Sensing something amiss, he glanced down and froze. His eyes widened in shock. Since when had he looked like this?

His frame was slight, draped in luxurious silk robes—fabric so fine it could only belong to nobility. Though torn and tattered by branches, the garment still exuded opulence.

"Where’s my Flowing Cloud Battle Armor? My Ascending Cloud Boots? And my Skyrend Axe—gone?" He pinched his fingers, forcing himself to stay lucid. Whatever had happened to him, it was no ordinary occurrence.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a splitting headache struck. A flood of foreign memories—belonging to this body’s original owner—surged into his consciousness. Having roamed the Central Plains for over an era, his will was unshakable. Even faced with such strangeness, he remained composed, methodically sifting through the chaotic recollections.

Time lost meaning. When Qi Yun finally opened his eyes again, his gaze was heavy with unspoken complexity.

After absorbing those memories, Qi Yun realized with astonishment that he had been reborn—his soul now inhabiting the body of another young man who shared his name.

"I wonder what year it is in the Divine Martial Calendar now," he murmured, shaking his head with a faint sigh. "How long has it been since my previous life ended in the Cloudsoar Mountains?"

But he quickly dismissed those thoughts. The past was the past, and dwelling on it wouldn’t help. Right now, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

"Qi Yun, son of the Minister of War of the Great Qin Dynasty?" He chuckled dryly. "This status is leagues above what I had in my past life. Pity though—despite the noble bloodline, this body’s talent and capabilities are utterly lackluster."

Examining his new form, Qi Yun frowned slightly. The original owner of this body was already fifteen, yet he hadn’t even reached the most basic level of martial cultivation—truly pathetic.

In the Central Continent, where humans and demonic beasts coexisted in relentless conflict, large-scale battles erupted monthly, with smaller skirmishes occurring constantly. Under such brutal competition, every kingdom prioritized martial prowess. Children began training as early as ten, and in powerful noble families, some started as young as seven or eight.

Given that Qi Yun was the son of the current Minister of War, it was unthinkable that he hadn’t even touched the threshold of the Novice Warrior stage by fifteen. Clearly, there was more to the story.

Sifting through the memories, the truth soon became clear. "Ah, a bastard child, and a dim-witted one at that. No wonder he was treated like an outcast."

Qi Zhan, the Minister of War of Great Qin, oversaw the empire’s military affairs—a high-ranking official of the second grade. The Qi family was also an established aristocratic house, and with Qi Zhan’s numerous wives and concubines, sons were plentiful. A mediocre, illegitimate child like the original Qi Yun naturally drew no attention.

After piecing it all together, Qi Yun shrugged and smirked to himself. "Who would’ve thought? The mighty Skyrend Martial Saint, reborn into such a pitiful state. Not only do I have to start from scratch, but I’m also stuck dealing with the petty schemes of noble families. How tedious."

Though Qi Yun was illegitimate, he was still the Minister of War’s son. There was no way he’d have been abandoned in this primeval forest without reason—someone had clearly wanted him dead.

"General Pang’s estate… Young Master Pang Li." A cold smile flickered across Qi Yun’s lips. He knew exactly who had orchestrated the original Qi Yun’s demise and left his body here.

But he wasn’t the same Qi Yun anymore. Things would have to change—starting with reclaiming what was rightfully his. Only then could he swiftly regain his former strength.

After all, the resources and influence of a noble family were too valuable to waste.

"First things first—I need to get out of here." Qi Yun surveyed his surroundings. According to his memories, this was the Ten-Thousand Blades Forest, not far from the imperial capital.

This area was teeming with formidable beasts like tigers, leopards, and wolves, while deeper within lurked even more powerful demonic creatures, making it an ideal hunting ground for nobility.

However, it wasn’t hunting season now, so the place was nearly deserted.

Just moments ago, a macaque had been leisurely nibbling on an unknown fruit high up in the trees, eyeing Qi Yun with cautious curiosity. The little creature seemed to have realized that Qi Yun posed no threat, and so it had calmed down considerably.

"Interesting little fellow," Qi Yun mused, about to leave when he glanced up at the monkey again, a flicker of contemplation crossing his eyes.

As the thought crossed his mind, Qi Yun swiftly scanned his surroundings. Though this wasn’t the deepest part of the Ten-Thousand-Blade Forest, it should still have been crawling with wild beasts. Yet, despite lingering here for so long, he hadn’t encountered a single one.

Such a situation usually meant one thing—some powerful beast or demonic creature had claimed this territory as its own, driving away all other predators.

But apart from this macaque, Qi Yun hadn’t spotted any other animals.

Realizing this, a faint smile tugged at his lips. If his guess was right, this little monkey was likely the ruler of this domain.

"From what I know, not many simian demons can dominate a territory like this. Just what kind of divine lineage do you hail from?" Qi Yun’s interest was piqued.

The monkey was clearly still in its juvenile stage, yet few simian demons could establish dominance so young—unless they belonged to an exceptionally high-tier bloodline. Such lineages included legendary clans like the Dragons, the Nine-Tailed Foxes, or the Kun Peng, but among simian demons, only a rare few outliers could wield such authority even in infancy.

Take, for example, the Four Great Spiritual Monkeys—the most renowned of their kind. In his past life, Qi Yun had only ever encountered the Long-Armed Monkey among them; the other three remained unseen.

Narrowing his eyes, Qi Yun studied the macaque perched on the branch. Outwardly, it looked no different from any other monkey—small, scrawny, and rather clever—but nothing particularly extraordinary.

After a moment’s thought, he moved his lips, emitting a series of strange, guttural syllables—utterly unlike any human language.

The sounds were abrupt and oddly unsettling, but the macaque froze momentarily. Then, its amber eyes—gleaming like polished citrine—flashed with unmistakable delight.

"Ch-chi!" The little monkey tossed aside its fruit and sprang up, leaping excitedly from branch to branch, its joy uncontainable—like a lonely child who had finally found a playmate.

Qi Yun smiled faintly. In his past life, he had been one of the rare few warriors in the entire Central Continent who could speak the Beast Tongue. Though he now inhabited a different body, this ability remained intact.

The Beast Tongue was the common language of nascently intelligent magical beasts and those among the demonic races who had gained the power to take human form. Unlike human speech, it was a language few could comprehend, let alone speak. Qi Yun's fame in his previous life hadn't come solely from his cultivation as a Martial Saint—his mastery of the Beast Tongue had also played a crucial role.

The little macaque had now leaped onto Qi Yun's shoulder, playfully tugging at his long black hair with unguarded delight.

Seeing this, Qi Yun was momentarily surprised but quickly understood. The young monkey, still innocent to the treachery of human hearts, had likely never encountered another being who could communicate with it. Its unrestrained joy made perfect sense.

"How about coming with me?" Qi Yun asked softly in the Beast Tongue, sensing something extraordinary about the creature.

Though humans and the demonic races were often at odds, powerful warriors sometimes formed unbreakable bonds with magical beasts as lifelong companions. That was why Qi Yun extended the invitation.

The macaque nodded eagerly, its eyes bright with excitement. Its intelligence had only just awakened—it could understand the Beast Tongue but couldn't yet speak it.

Qi Yun was pleased. Even in its infancy, this macaque had frightened off other ferocious beasts. Once fully grown, it would undoubtedly become a formidable ally.

"Wait a moment..." Just as Qi Yun was about to leave with the macaque, his gaze caught something unusual about its ears, and he froze in astonishment.

At first glance, the macaque appeared no different from other apes. But upon closer inspection, beneath each of its normal ears, there was another tiny, almost inconspicuous pair.

Qi Yun swore that even his first encounter with the Dragon Clan's patriarch—one of the most revered figures among the demonic races—hadn't shocked him this much. This macaque was none other than the legendary Six-Eared Macaque, a rarity even among the demonic races, appearing only once in a millennium!

The Six-Eared Macaque wasn't just revered as one of the Four Divine Apes by the simian clans—it was considered one of the few beings in the entire demonic race with the potential to ascend to the rank of Demon Emperor, defying the heavens themselves.

"No wonder there are no other beasts or magical creatures nearby," Qi Yun murmured, his voice tinged with awe. "They must have sensed its presence and fled in terror."

Bloodline hierarchy was strictly observed among the demonic races, and a supreme being like the Six-Eared Macaque exerted an overwhelming pressure on lesser creatures.

Though exhilarated, Qi Yun quickly regained his composure. Even a divine entity like the Six-Eared Macaque, born of heaven and earth, had to cultivate step by step like any other magical beast.

And right now, this Six-Eared Macaque was still in its infancy—undeniably weak.