Chapter 1: Abandoned, She Reads a Beast's Heart

Gu Jingxing stood at the edge of the withered grass, the tips of his polished leather shoes idly flicking at the scattered gravel beneath them. The pebbles skittered and clattered, a tiny, sharp noise that failed to drown out the suffocating silence of the wasteland. He looked down at Shen Qinghe, who was curled up in the dry drainage ditch, her posture defensive and small. The bitter wind whipped sand grains against her pale face like needles, stinging her enough to make her eyelashes flutter.

She huddled into a tight ball, as if trying to shrink herself into the dirt just to find a shred of warmth, but what no one noticed was that her fingertips, buried in the earth, trembled faintly out of sight.

In that instant, a strange stream of heat surged up through her knuckles and straight into her mind, and the dead, silent wasteland suddenly erupted into cacophony in her perception. Countless faint, desperate signatures of life rushed toward her like a tide—it was a chaotic mix of hunger, fear, and the raw instinct to survive, so noisy it made her heart pound, yet clear as a bell.

A mocking smirk played on Gu Jingxing’s lips, though it never reached his eyes. He turned to Boss Chen, who stood beside him with a grim, shadowed expression. “Boss,” he said, “as the rumors promised, this girl is useless. Left in a hellhole like this, I doubt she’d even last three days before starving to death.”

Boss Chen smoothed the expensive silk lining of his cuffs, his fingertips rubbing against the cold fabric. His gaze was as frigid as snow on an ice sheet, devoid of the slightest shred of pity.

He glanced at Shen Qinghe’s hunched back, which looked ridiculously frail and laughable in the freezing wind. “Jingxing, don’t waste your breath on her,” he said flatly. “The Beast Soul attached to her is already mine. Right now, I am her greatest threat.”

Shen Qinghe kept her head down, her hunched body trembling slightly from a simulated “pain.” In reality, her mind was clear and cold, like a frozen lake. She caught the subtext in their words perfectly, confirming that Gu Jingxing and Boss Chen didn’t actually want to kill her. They wanted to sever her completely from the web of profit, discarding her like a broken tool.

Gu Jingxing turned back and shouted at Shen Qinghe, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty ditch. “Shen Qinghe! I, Gu Jingxing, am a newly minted elite of the Group now. My future is limitless. I will never waste half a second of my time on a discarded piece like you.”

He kicked away a dry twig at his feet, his voice dripping with snobbish contempt. “All that faking madness you pulled off earlier—I thought you actually had some real skill. Turns out you’re a complete waste of space. Before I change my mind, crawl away yourself. Don’t dirty my eyes.”

Boss Chen pulled a dagger from his pocket, spinning it on his finger. The cold glint of the blade cast a sharp light over the dim surroundings. His eyes were filled with greed and cruelty as he looked at Shen Qinghe. “I’ve checked your personal effects carefully. You’re completely broke. Not even a beast bone left that you could sell for coins. Do you really think those so-called skills of yours can save you?

That Beast Soul I bought was a high-priced substitute I pulled from the Black Market. The original Beast Soul inside you has already been stripped away.”

Shen Qinghe deliberately increased the frequency of her breathing, letting out a pained groan while her face twisted into an expression of near-collapse despair. She purposely relaxed the muscles she had been clenching tight, creating a false image of total combat inability, even letting her body sway slightly as if she might fall over any second.

Watching her pathetic state, Gu Jingxing snorted in disgust and turned back to Boss Chen. “Look at her sorry self. She’s definitely wrecked. Boss Chen, let’s go. Staying out here in the wilderness for another minute is a waste of life. We need to head back to the city to attend the victory banquet.”

Boss Chen sheathed the dagger, huffed coldly, and didn’t spare another look for Shen Qinghe. He just gestured for Gu Jingxing to lead the way. The two of them began walking away, their footsteps growing colder and more distant in the wind, until they were swallowed by the howling gales.

Just as they had taken a few dozen steps, a faint but shrill whine suddenly cut through the deep wilderness. It was Tiedan, the stray dog, crying out from extreme hunger and cold—a distress signal for help.

Tiedan was skeletal, his fur matted and tangled. He wagged his broken tail cautiously as he crept toward Shen Qinghe, his eyes wide with wariness and survival instinct. He stopped about half a meter away, tentatively sniffing the air.

Gu Jingxing stopped in his tracks, furrowing his brow in utter disgust. “Where did that stray come from? He’s filthy. Absolute bad luck. Boss Chen, shoo it away. Don’t let it get near my boots. I refuse to get touched by any trash.”

Boss Chen didn’t say a word. He just glanced at Tiedan with disdain, seemingly deeming such a low-level spirit beast beneath his attention. But Shen Qinghe ignored the cold and her aching body, slowly extending her right hand toward Tiedan. The moment her fingertips brushed his rough, coarse fur, a thunderclap seemed to explode in her mind.

A flood of information crashed into her instantly—Tiedan’s deepest, most honest screams. Shen Qinghe clearly heard his terrified shrieks, the whimpers of his desperate need for food, and the dull, cumulative pain in his body from years of abuse and starvation.

Those suppressed emotions broke the dam, flooding her nerves and causing a violent wave of dizziness.

Gu Jingxing watched Shen Qinghe talking to herself and frantically petting the dog’s head. Finally, his patience snapped, and he burst into loud laughter. He pointed at her, his voice shrill. “See? I told you she was actually insane! Whispering to a stray dog. Shen Qinghe, you’re terminally sick. No wonder nobody wants you. You can’t even understand humans. You’re only fit to keep beasts for company.”

Boss Chen paused and glanced back at Shen Qinghe and Tiedan. A flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes, but it was quickly buried under his indifference. Shen Qinghe ignored Gu Jingxing’s mockery. Her fingertips gently rubbed between the fur on Tiedan’s neck. Based on the mental readings she’d just received, she pinpointed the exact spot where Tiedan’s emotions were most vulnerable and applied a specific Soothing Amplification.

As the soothing force washed into him, Tiedan’s depressed aura changed instantly. His lowered head slowly lifted, and a strange light began to shine in his previously cloudy eyes. It was the imposing authority of a top-tier predator. The wolves lurking nearby felt the intangible pressure and submitted, pressing themselves flat against the ground. The air became thick with a suffocating tension.

Boss Chen’s step faltered. His pupils constricted as shock registered on his face. He didn’t turn back to stop it, however; instead, he quickly moved away, eager to distance himself from this bizarre scene. Shen Qinghe felt the磅礴 power waking up inside Tiedan and the cold curve of her mouth.

Holding Tiedan’s hard paw, she made a silent vow to use this awakened power to reclaim everything that belonged to her and make those who underestimated her pay the price.

Gu Jingxing wasn’t scared away as expected. Instead, a greedy, icy glint sparked in his narrow eyes. He dropped his disguise, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. He stepped closer to Shen Qinghe, the crisp snap of twigs under his leather shoes echoing loudly. The pungent scent of expensive sandalwood on him clashed violently with the wild, fishy smell of the wasteland. “Oh? Interesting,” he sneered, leaning in. “I haven’t seen a stray dog with that kind of spiritual sense before. Looks like you’ve been hiding a treasure from me, Qinghe. Kneel now. Hand that dog over to me. I won’t kill you; I’ll guarantee you a life of comfort. Or else...”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat in his eyes was enough to suffocate. The surrounding wolves sensed the owner’s killing intent and began to growl low in their throats. The air, once submitted to Tiedan, became agitated. They began circling in, trapping Shen Qinghe and Gu Jingxing in the middle.

Shen Qinghe didn’t back down, nor did she beg for mercy. She simply stared at Gu Jingxing, her gaze terrifyingly clear, as if looking at a rotting corpse.

To Gu Jingxing, this was just a madman’s dull stare. But in Shen Qinghe’s perception, the spiritual force circuits in Gu Jingxing’s body were already riddled with holes. They were signs of backlash from long-term abuse of forbidden techniques. It would take only a gentle push to make this seemingly perfect shell collapse.

“Gu Jingxing, you smell awful,” Shen Qinghe said softly. Her voice was scattered by the wind, yet it made Gu Jingxing freeze.

His face twitched. He subconsciously stepped back, only to crash into the Alpha wolf lurking behind him. The Alpha, suppressed by Tiedan’s aura, dared not attack openly. It just gave a low growl and tucked its tail, retreating. Gu Jingxing’s unease intensified. He felt an invisible pressure spreading up from his feet. It wasn’t from a beast, but from some higher-level rule.

“What... what did you do?” Gu Jingxing’s voice was no longer sharp. It trembled. He tried to summon his internal spiritual force, but it was like throwing mud into the sea—he couldn’t move a single drop. In horror, he realized that in this moment, the power he was proud of looked tiny and ridiculous before the Royal Aura radiating from Tiedan.

Shen Qinghe slowly stood up. Even though her legs shook from blood loss, her spine remained perfectly straight. She looked down at Tiedan and gently stroked the patch of white hair that grew backward on his forehead. Tiedan lifted his head, and in his originally golden eyes, a flash of golden light suddenly appeared, like the brilliant radiance of an emperor being crowned.

The beam lasted only a split second, fleeting and gone, yet it made the blood of every living thing nearby freeze for an instant. The pack of wolves pressed themselves completely flat to the ground, refusing to even look up.

Gu Jingxing collapsed to the ground, his face as white as a sheet. He stared at that flash of light, his pupils contracting violently. He finally realized that he hadn’t just been mocking a madman; he had been trampling a ferocious beast that was about to awaken. Fear coiled around his heart like a venomous snake, robbing him of his breath.

Shen Qinghe ignored Gu Jingxing’s dazed gaze. She patted Tiedan’s chin gently. Tiedan whined once, rubbing her palm with his damp, black nose, conveying a firm sense of belonging.

The wind stopped. The forest fell silent.

Shen Qinghe looked up, gazing through the sparse branches toward the distant direction of the Imperial City, where the lights burned bright. A cold, faint smirk curled her lips. It was icy and decisive, without a trace of warmth—only the sharp gleam of a avenger who had finally sharpened her blade.

The Royal Aura in Tiedan’s eyes didn’t fade; instead, it became clearer in the night, like a massive golden eye opening in the depths of darkness, quietly watching its master who was about to reclaim the throne.