Chapter Seven: My Name Is Huo Qubing

With a rumble, Yun Yufeng landed heavily on his back and rolled awkwardly across the ground, only coming to a stop when he collided with a jagged stone. Clutching his sword tightly, he rose to his feet, still shaken, and surveyed his surroundings warily. He found himself standing in a small square within an unfamiliar realm, its surface littered with countless bleached bones—some human, some belonging to magical beasts, and others from unknown, humanoid races.

Some of the bones were so weathered they crumbled to dust at the slightest touch, while others gleamed like jade, hard as refined steel and unlike any biological remains Yun Yufeng had seen. Driven by curiosity, he stowed the jade-like bones into his spatial pouch.

The space appeared vast at a glance, dominated by an ancient, towering structure at its center that seemed perfectly at home in its surroundings. The sky overhead was a dull, yellowish hue, so different from the world outside, with gray clouds swirling above, forming a vortex that drew wisps of gray energy into the old tower.

All around were exquisite carved railings and balustrades, converging upon the nine-storied central tower. From its summit, a blood-red light shone upward, piercing straight into the eternal-looking vortex above.

Though the architecture was stark, it was far from monotonous; it stirred in Yun Yufeng a sense of familiarity. What did it remind him of? The feeling was odd. Then it struck him—it resembled an ancient altar. Having once visited the Temple of Heaven in Beijing and nursed a mild fascination with history despite his passion for physics, Yun Yufeng recognized the style.

Reborn in this otherworldly place, Yun Yufeng had long since grown immune to the unbelievable. Experiences that might once have seemed extraordinary now felt almost routine. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder why a structure from ancient China stood here in this realm, or who had built this altar.

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the tower. Its flying eaves were guarded at each corner by auspicious beasts: Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermillion Bird, and, presumably at the rear, the Black Tortoise. Five thousand years of culture and myth had never lacked for imagination.

With the tower ahead of him, Yun Yufeng naturally refused to pass up a closer inspection. Picking his way over the scattered bones, he advanced toward the altar—only to crash, unprepared, into an invisible barrier that sent him sprawling. Refusing to give up, he got to his feet and reached forward, watching as ripples shimmered across empty air.

He tossed a bone fragment at the barrier; it too bounced off, rippling the surface. Clearly, this was a protective ward, blocking all outside intrusion—not just living beings.

Yun Yufeng was stunned. With the way forward barred and no path back, was he to share the fate of these bones, destined to become one more among them? What a tragic end. If heaven had granted him a second life, he would not believe his journey was to end here...

Suddenly, lines of text appeared on the rippling barrier. Yun Yufeng peered closer. The script was ancient, resembling pictographs yet closer to traditional Chinese, somewhere between hieroglyphs and seal script. Was this the legendary seal script?

Straining his memory, Yun Yufeng managed to grasp the gist: "Outsider, this is my abode. My end approaches, so I leave behind my legacy for the fated. Those who arrive must first pass a test. Success grants inheritance; failure brings death. Those willing to accept the trial, place your hand upon the blood-red imprint."

Yun Yufeng pondered. This must be the dwelling of a mighty being from antiquity—perhaps, like himself, an exile from Earth. But here, it seemed, no apprentice had been found, so the master had perished alone, leaving this legacy for a worthy soul. If so, as a fellow countryman, Yun Yufeng saw this as his chance at survival—perhaps even a stroke of destiny.

Without hesitation, he pressed his right hand to the blood-red imprint, aligning it perfectly.

A low hum filled the air.

Yun Yufeng felt as if he were once again hurtling through a tunnel of space and time, but the sensation passed in an instant. When he regained his senses, he was standing on a vast plaza. Before him sprawled a colossal chessboard, scattered with ancient war chariots, cavalry, spear-wielding soldiers, scholars, and ministers—all arranged in battle formation, divided by the familiar Chu River-Han Border.

Without warning, a beam of white light shot from the sky, piercing into Yun Yufeng’s mind. A booming voice thundered in his head: "This is the chessboard of heaven and earth. Each side commands its forces. A single misstep brings annihilation; failure to complete the game without error will erase your memory. Only the victor shall receive my legacy. I now bestow upon you the Divine Control Art, to command the pieces within the game. Should your spirit falter, your memory will be wiped. Let the game begin!"

A flash of golden light illuminated his mind, and Yun Yufeng instantly understood how to manipulate objects with his will—no need for practice; it felt as natural as if he had trained it a thousand times. Delighted, he thought that even if he gained nothing else, this alone was a priceless gift.

Following the instructions, he took his place at the "General" position. With a thunderous roar, the opposing cannon opened fire, blasting away one of his warhorses in the very first move.

Yun Yufeng was exasperated. Such a brazen opening! Didn’t his foe know anything of tactics? This was sheer barbarism.

But the opposing side pressed on relentlessly, crossing the river. Yet after the initial brutality, their play became cunning—advancing and withdrawing with calculated skill, at times launching bold assaults, at others retreating with craft and guile.

As a game of intellect handed down through the ages, chess was a subject of Yun Yufeng’s own research; he had studied even the most obscure endgames. For a scientist, chess was an unrivaled exercise of the mind.

Yun Yufeng played methodically, unmoved by his opponent’s ferocity, as steady as a mountain, commanding his pieces in battle.

After nearly an hour of fierce competition, he wiped sweat from his brow. His head throbbed, his mind feeling as if it might split apart. His spiritual power was nearly spent. Both sides were down to their last few pieces, but victory was by no means certain.

Exhaustion threatened to overcome him; his face had grown pale as snow, his body trembling as he sat, sweat pooling beneath him. He had to hold on, or all would be lost—he might wake to find himself once more on the edge of a cliff, and if the wolves remained, his life would truly be forfeit.

Suddenly, his opponent advanced a pawn to the end of the board. "Old soldier," Yun Yufeng thought with joy, shifting his general’s platform. The pawn delivered check, catching his foe off guard, and his ancient war chariot thundered forth, targeting the enemy’s command post and securing victory.

With the final move made, darkness closed over Yun Yufeng’s vision, and he collapsed, utterly drained of spirit.

A resounding crash followed as all the remaining chess pieces shattered, their energy surging into Yun Yufeng’s mind. The spiritual power expended during the match had accumulated in the generals of both sides. Now, all of it exploded within Yun Yufeng, doubling his spiritual force and vastly expanding his sea of consciousness—from a teacup to a small wine jar, a fitting reward for his triumph.

"Awake?" The moment his eyes opened, Yun Yufeng heard a deep, masculine voice reverberate from above.

"Uh..."

He looked up to see a man suspended in midair, dressed in white robes immaculate as snow, his face handsome, his brow noble, his eyes bright with intelligence and refinement—a truly extraordinary figure.

Yet there was something incongruous about him. Above his head, blood-red murderous aura shot skyward, and in the void behind him loomed a shadowy world: a blood-red sunset, scorched earth stretching to infinity—a scene of utter desolation and dread. How such contradictions could exist in one person, Yun Yufeng could not fathom. Wasn’t a killer supposed to look the part?

"Friend from my homeland, you must be curious about everything you see here. Don’t worry; I will explain it all to you. Just listen—no need to interrupt."

The man’s decisive manner left Yun Yufeng no chance to speak; perhaps it reflected a life spent giving orders, acting with sovereign authority. Yun Yufeng, dazed and overwhelmed by the strangeness, had no desire to interrupt in any case. Homeland? Indeed, the chessboard was clearly Chinese chess, albeit with a touch of the fantastical.

"My name is Huo Qubing. Once, I served as Grand Marshal under Emperor Wu of Han." The man’s eyes gazed into the void, filled with melancholy and longing. "My life was spent in war. I remember, in those days, watering my horse at the Jade Sea, sealing the wolves at Mount Juxu, pursuing the enemy to the ends of the earth until the Xiongnu fled beyond the desert, leaving no royal court south of the steppe. But I achieved too much too young, my brilliance intolerable to the emperor. I was betrayed on campaign and died at twenty-three. Yet heaven smiled upon me. Darkness fell, and I descended with my fleshly body to the continent of Tianyuan, tasting again the thrill of the battlefield, commanding three thousand armored riders to break through the gates of heaven. But then the apocalypse came—petals fell from the sky, the world wept, and even I could not escape fate. So I left behind this legacy for a worthy successor."

There was both resignation and resolve in his voice, as if he longed to rebel against fate but was bound to obey its dictates. The murderous aura above his head grew ever more intense, as if piercing the heavens themselves.

At this, Yun Yufeng was utterly dumbfounded. Incredible—a legendary figure had come to the Tianyuan Continent. Wait, Tianyuan Continent? Wasn’t this supposed to be the Zichen Continent? The newcomer’s mind was reeling, but even among the old relics of noble families, none knew of such things.

"To meet a fellow countryman now means the world will change—perhaps it has changed countless times already. The crossing of time and space brings the unimaginable. In those days, many heroes fell. Now, with my legacy, you too, given time, will find your footing in this strange land. I cannot guarantee your safety for life, but you will have a foundation. The path ahead is yours alone to walk."

"Your affinity is of fire, yet you also possess the gifts of life and death—truly a rare marvel. Well then... I wish you luck. Now, receive my gift!"

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