Reborn Sightless: Path of the Supreme Body

“Ten thousand years ago, during the Great Battle of Wangwu, the Demon Lord Duan Yu painted the realm in blood,” the storyteller thundered, slamming his wooden gavel against the desk.

The sharp crack echoed off the rafters of the crowded teahouse, silencing the rowdy patrons in an instant.

“Duan Yu’s insatiable greed for the ‘Divine Dew Elixir’, the legendary immortal treasure born at the heart of Mount Wangwu, drove him to declare total war!”

He unfolded his silk fan with a quiet flick of his wrist, fanning himself slowly as he looked out over the crowd.

“Legend says this elixir holds the power to conquer the Seven Realms and grant the ferocious, world-shattering strength of an Asura! He wiped out entire ancient sects overnight. Just as the tyrant believed the realm was his to conquer, the Deities, the Heavenly Sects, and the Sovereign Beasts united in a desperate, final stand!”

The storyteller leaned forward, his voice dropping into a low, conspiratorial tone.

“Half the dragon clans were slaughtered. Tens of thousands of elite disciples fell like wheat before a scythe. Even the highest Deities fell into sheer panic! But in their darkest hour, they remembered him. The only man who possessed mastery over time and space... the legendary Grand master Tianyu!”

Breathless gasps filled the hall. A cluster of young scholars and novice cultivators near the stage leaned closer, their eyes burning with pure admiration.

“With his legendary blade Li Yuen, forged from ten-thousand-year dark ore, Grandmaster Tianyu unleashed his secret technique, ripping through reality itself!”

The storyteller swung his arm in a dramatic, sweeping arc. “One swing spawned a million micro-blades, reducing entire demonic armies to fine ash! Supported by transcendent Dao power, he struck down Demon Lord Duan Yu, trapping his soul in an endless time loop and saving the Seven Realms from annihilation!”

The storyteller paused, allowing the tension to hang in the air before dropping his voice to a chilling murmur.

“Yet... on the very eve of his absolute triumph, the Grand master vanished. To this day, his divine sword remains embedded in stone on the highest peak of the Ninth Heaven Sect, untouchable by mortal or god, while his disciples roam the Seven Realms in endless grief, searching for their lost patriarch...”

Near the back of the dimly lit tea house, far from the glowing lantern light, a young man in tattered gray robes quietly set his cracked clay cup onto the wooden table.

Clack.

Beneath the thick black cloth wrapped tightly around his eyes, the corner of his lips curled into a razor-sharp, bitter sneer.

‘Fools,’ Tianyu thought, gently swirling the lukewarm, cheap tea leaves at the bottom of his cup. ‘Grief-stricken disciples? Searching for their patriarch? They truly know how to spin a noble tale to cover their sin.’

The searing memory flared in his mind, fresh as if it had occurred yesterday.

He hadn’t vanished.

After sealing the Demon Lord, his body was broken and his Qi entirely spent. He retreated into the secluded depths of Yuehua Cave to restore his depleted foundation and attempt his final breakthrough.

That was when his own martial brothers struck.

They hadn’t come to honour their patriarch. They came with murder in their eyes.

Even in the deepest state of meditation, his supreme senses had picked up their quiet steps toward his altar. But a lifetime of blood, sweat, and shared battles had blinded him. He felt their proximity and registered zero threat, never imagining the men he called brothers were capable of such heinous treachery.

Before he could break his trance, they drove a thousand-year poison gem directly into his chest. Infused with the corrupting essence of the Demon Lord, the dark gem shattered his Nascent Soul, severing his vitality and ripping his spirit into fragments. In a single brutal instant, ten thousand years of hard-fought cultivation dissolved into nothingness.

They ensured his divine vessel would remain forever lifeless.

Throwing his cold corpse into the Forbidden Abyss to be devoured by dark spirits, they stole his legacy for themselves.

For a hundred agonising years, his shattered soul had drifted through the cold void of the Seven Realms, searching for a vessel to anchor his existence.

And what had fate delivered to him?

Lu Yan. A blind, rootless, useless mortal boy whose bones had just been shattered after tumbling off a steep cliff on Cloud-Veil Mountain.

Tianyu took a slow, deliberate sip of the bitter tea, his knuckles turning white around the clay cup.

‘My divine sword sits idle in stone. My betrayers sit on golden thrones, ruling the Ninth Heaven. And I am trapped in a blind, broken vessel that can barely gather mountain herbs without falling to pieces...’

A cold, suffocating aura flickered beneath his ragged clothes before vanishing like smoke.

‘Good. The higher they sit... the grander their blood will paint the sky when I return.’

“Lord Tianyu...”

A soft, melodic voice echoed directly within his mind. Lian, the tiny Wood Fairy residing inside his spirit space, spoke with a touch of anxiety. “You still need to mend this vessel. Falling off that cliff left every meridian shattered and half your bones crushed. In this state, you can neither fight nor cultivate.”

‘I know, Lian,’ Tianyu replied mentally. ‘Luckily, the boy mistook you for a wild ginseng root before he fell, or his corpse would have been wolf food. My soul scared off the pack, but your healing energy sewed the torn muscles back together. Otherwise, I’d still be rotting in that ravine.’

“The forest spirits will always be indebted to you for what you did in your past life,” Lian said softly. “The moment your grand soul merged with this shell, the sheer shock triggered my first spirit gate breakthrough. It was the least I could do.”

Lian’s tone shifted, growing practical.

“Still, if you want spirit stones for body refinement, your empty pockets won’t cut it. Basic herbs won’t be enough to mend those shattered bones and torn meridians. But your supreme soul allows you to see the hidden aura of everything around you, even without physical eyes.”

Tianyu’s lips curled under his blindfold.

“Use your soul-sight to find the Hundred-Year Licorice Root in this market,” Lian urged eagerly. “The vendor thinks it’s just an ordinary piece of dead timber, but it’s actually a living spirit root in disguise, just like me! It’s concealing its aura to hide from the world.”

“A living spirit root hiding in a mortal market?” Tianyu mused internally. “Does it carry something worthwhile?”

“Yes! Legend says this spirit root carries ancient secrets of the Seven Realms, specifically the lost body refinement methods of the secretive Fuxin Clan. Better yet, its essence can clear the blackened, stagnant blood pooling in your head, unblocking your upper meridians.”

Tianyu raised an eyebrow beneath his blindfold. ‘The Fuxin Clan? Weren’t they hunted down and used as human cauldrons by the elite sects?’

“Precisely,” Lian nodded in his spirit space. “Which is why the spirit root disguises itself as ordinary wood. It won’t reveal its true identity or yield those secrets easily.”

‘Relax. I have my ways.’

Tianyu smirked, tossing a couple of copper coins on the table. Tapping his wooden cane against the floorboards, he navigated his way out into the noisy street.

THUMP.

He had barely taken three steps outside when he bumped into a massive, muscle-bound thug. Before Tianyu could step back, an iron grip clamped down hard on his shoulder, digging straight into his unhealed injury.

“Hey, filthy blind beggar! You got no eyes?” the thug growled, looming over him with a scowl. “Look at what you did to my new leather shoes! Get down on your knees and wipe them clean... before I erase you from this market permanently.”

“I am sorry, mister,” Lu Yan replied softly, keeping his voice humble. “I am in a bit of a hurry. Please, let me be on my way.”

“You think you can get away with just a sorry? An apology doesn’t clean my shoe! Now wipe it!” the thug barked, shoving him down.

Lu Yan knelt on the dusty cobblestones, dragging his ragged sleeve over the leather shoes. Through his soul-sight, he observed the thug’s aura, a dim, muddy red flicker. The man posed zero real threat. In his fragile condition, swallowing a sliver of pride was a small price to pay to avoid useless exertion.

“Master!” Lian cried out in his mind, her voice trembling with indignation. “You are the Grand master of the Nine Heavens! Why are you kneeling before this filth? You could silence him with a thought!”

‘Quiet, Lian,’ Tianyu countered coldly. ‘I am no longer a Grand master in this broken vessel. Every move comes with a price. Fighting a meaningless battle right now will only shatter my unhealed bones. I need to save my energy.’

Finishing the task, Lu Yan stood, picked up his wooden cane, and turned to walk away.

GRAB.

The thug’s heavy hand clamped onto his shoulder once more, hauling him back violently.

“Where do you think you’re going, beggar?” the thug sneered. “What about the payment? I saw you pocketing coppers at the tea house. Hand them over.”

“Mister... these coins are to buy medicine for my sick father,” Lu Yan pleaded, putting on the helpless act of a mortal boy. “I cannot give them to you. Please, spare me.”

“Tsk, to hell with your father! Let the old corpse rot,” the thug smirked, holding out an open palm. “Now be a good boy and hand over the coins before I break your other leg.”

Lu Yan went completely still. The pathetic demeanour vanished, replaced by an icy, suffocating stillness.

“No,” Lu Yan said, dropping his voice into a razor-cold register.

The surrounding temperature plummeted in an instant, causing nearby passersby to shiver as an unnatural chill swept through the street.

“What did you say, brat?” the thug growled, his face twisting with rage.

“I said...” Lu Yan tilted his head up beneath his blindfold, a dark sneer curling his lips. “...someone like you doesn’t even deserve the air you breathe.”

“You little—!”

Enraged, the thug threw a heavy, wind-whistling fist straight toward Lu Yan’s face.