With the rise of my family, I can summon the Daoist Soldiers' Nest.

Lin Ye was awakened by a pain in her chest before the morning mist had dissipated.

He groggily reached out to rub it, but his fingertips touched not the smoothness of the cool mat in the rented room, but the roughness of coarse cloth.

A familiar, slightly bitter scent lingered around my nose—the smell of green bamboo mixed with morning dew, not the ever-present aroma of instant noodles and takeout from my rented room.

He suddenly opened his eyes, and what came into view was not the glaring incandescent light from the ceiling, but a wooden beam covered with old paper, with a faded cloth bag hanging on it, bulging inside as if it were filled with dried grass.

"Where...is this?" He propped himself up and sat up, the earthen bed creaking and groaning.

The bed beneath him was firm, covered with a thin mattress, warm from the sun. He looked around; the walls were mottled, yet perfectly clean.

Lin Ye's heart suddenly raced. He remembered that he had been working overtime at the company last night, revising a never-ending proposal in front of the computer screen, his eyes stinging as if they had sand in them.

Then...then I felt dizzy, the world spun around me, and then I was in this unfamiliar, dimly lit place. Wasn't he at the company? How did he get here?

He staggered out of bed, his bare feet sinking into the cold, blue brick floor, yet surprisingly steady. He walked to the window, pushed open the creaking wooden pane, and the morning breeze, carrying the damp scent of grass and trees, rushed in.

There was an old locust tree in the courtyard, with lush branches and leaves. Under the tree was a stone table and several stone benches. On the stone table was half a coarse grain cake that had not been finished.

In the distance, there are rolling green hills shrouded in mist, and at the foot of the hills, the outlines of buildings with upturned eaves can be vaguely seen, creating a tranquil pastoral scene that is completely different from the steel and concrete of the city.

"Qingyuan Sword Sect...inner disciple..."

Lin Ye lay back on the bed, half-reclined. Memories that didn't belong to him surged into his mind like pages of an old book turned by the wind—not scattered fragments, but a complete and vivid world.

This is a world where martial arts and feudalism intertwine.

The largest dynasty in the world was called the "Tang Dynasty," which resembled an open chessboard, surrounded by four main vassal states: the Northern Han, the Southern Ming, the Western Yuan, and the Eastern Song. Each vassal state had to resist the invasions of foreign tribes.

The Northern Han guarded against the wolf cavalry of the Northern Xiongnu, the Southern Ming guarded against the miasma of the Southern Barbarians, the Western Yuan bordered the sand bandits of the Western Regions, and the Eastern Song looked towards the Japanese pirates in the East China Sea.

This world is vast. The Northern Han Kingdom, where he lived, had an absurdly large territory, with thirteen prefectures, making it even more expansive than the China of his previous life.

As for the Tang Dynasty... I've heard it has more than twenty continents, each of which is as big as the Northern Han Kingdom. Heaven knows how big this world really is.

In my memory, martial arts were the foundation of my life, and the hierarchy was extremely strict: unranked, third-rate, second-rate, first-rate, acquired, and innate. I heard that there were even higher realms after the innate level.

After all, in the eight hundred years since the founding of the Northern Han Kingdom, it has produced very few innate masters.

The power of martial arts is also bizarre—even rudimentary fist and foot techniques can knock down five well-dressed and trained soldiers.

A third-rate martial artist can cleave a tree trunk as thick as a bowl with a sword; a first-rate martial artist is said to be able to split stone tablets and walk on water.

But there's another saying: "No matter how high your martial arts skills are, don't forget that you need to outnumber your opponents." In actual combat, three to five people of lower cultivation levels can usually hold off a martial artist of a higher cultivation level.

Even a master with innate talent would be defeated if they encountered a well-trained army. No matter how strong an individual is, they cannot do whatever they want.

So, this is a world of martial arts?

No, no, in the vast wilderness far from towns, besides the treacherous environment, there is another threat lurking—Taoist soldiers and demonic beasts.

This is also what makes this world different from a pure martial arts world. In the deep mountains and forests, and in the treacherous canyons, there exist many natural [Taoist Soldiers' Lairs].

These nests periodically spawn powerful Dao soldiers, who, following their instincts, periodically leave the nests.

Their venturing out to forage, wander, and even attack villages and caravans they pass through is a calamity that strikes fear into the hearts of all mortals and low-level martial artists.

What makes it even more desirable is that by discovering and successfully conquering a lair, one can establish oneself as the new "Live Lord" and gain the ability to command an entire legion of Dao soldiers.

This is seen as a shortcut to rapid rise, but it also comes with enormous risks, with a near-certain death rate.

Meanwhile, there are also monsters in the wild that frequently attack human villages and cities.

He... became Lin Ye.

A nineteen-year-old boy living in a country called "Northern Han Kingdom" and belonging to the Qingyuan Sword Sect of Wuwei County.

His predecessor was also called Lin Ye. He was an inner disciple of the Qingyuan Sword Sect and was highly regarded by his family. Five years ago, his family sent him to the Qingyuan Sword Sect, hoping that he could soar to great heights and win some glory and a chance to breathe for the already declining Lin family.

However, reality is far crueler than imagined.

In five years, he only became a third-rate master, and his true inheritance trial ended in failure.

According to the sect rules and family agreement, he will be sent back to the family's home in Xiang County, Wuwei Prefecture—Linjiawu—to take up a nominal position as an outer sect steward.

A third-rate expert...

In a martial nation like the Northern Han Kingdom, this level of cultivation is neither high nor low. It's enough to make one stand out among ordinary people, but in the cultivation world where sects and aristocratic families abound, it only means one has just escaped the realm of cannon fodder.

What weighed even heavier on Lin Ye's mind were the memories of his family in his mind.

The Lin family was a prominent clan within a radius of hundreds of miles in Xiang County.

His ancestors started by reclaiming wasteland and raising horses. By the time of his father, Lin Sheng, a military officer had emerged who became a captain in the Northern Han army, in charge of three hundred border soldiers.

The family's fortified village was built on the shore of Yandang Lake in the north of Xiang County. The blue stone walls were three zhang high. It was the family property accumulated by three generations of the Lin family, housing more than a thousand people. The main branch alone had five houses, and the collateral branches were countless.

However, five years ago, the Northern Xiongnu launched a surprise attack on Xiang County, the family's fortified village was destroyed, and the father, grandfather, and grandmother died in battle, along with countless other family members.

Today, the Lin family has less than 300 members, mostly the elderly, women, and children, with fewer than 50 able-bodied men who can actually wield swords.

Lin Ye, as the only surviving direct descendant of the Lin family and the young patriarch, has become the only hope for this crumbling family.

How ironic, how tragic.

"Well, what's done is done." Lin Ye took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil and heaviness in his heart. As a mature soul in his previous life, he had long been accustomed to finding hope in adversity.

The excruciating pain had vanished, and the torrent of two memories had finally transformed into a clear understanding, like a long movie that imprinted every detail of his nineteen years of life experiences deep into his soul.

The Qingyuan Sword Sect, to which he belonged, was a renowned first-rate sect in the Northern Han Kingdom, famous for its exquisite swordsmanship. Unfortunately, for Lin Ye now, the path of the sect was cut off.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Lin Ye quickly calmed down.

Just as he was sorting out his thoughts, a throbbing sensation came to his mind.

Lin Ye inexplicably felt something in his mind, a fruit pit.

In my mind, it was about the size of a thumb, with a deep purplish-black color throughout, and its surface was covered with naturally formed spiral patterns, as if it contained some kind of mysterious cosmic trajectory.

This was an "antique" he had found at some unknown stall in his previous life, which he always regarded as a lucky charm. Unexpectedly, it came with him after he transmigrated, and even ran into his mind.

Lin Ye's mind involuntarily sank into his thoughts, examining the familiar fruit pit once again.

In his perception, this fruit pit was no longer just an inanimate object; he vaguely sensed that its name was "Family Nest."

It was very still, merging with this sea of ​​consciousness, without emitting any fluctuations or showing any intelligence.

"This is my cheat code?" Lin Ye's heart skipped a beat. "A family lair?" It's a lair that can give birth to Dao soldiers? Could it be that he can become the master of the lair?

Countless novels I'd read in my past life flashed through my mind. Had I also embarked on this path?

There was no system notification sound, no newbie gift pack, only a seemingly ordinary fruit pit that seemed to contain the stars and the sea within.

The path of the Qingyuan Sword Sect has been cut off, but Linjiawu, the family's lair... that may be a higher and better starting point for him.