Vogue stared into the opened jade box, his expression frozen in genuine shock as his mind struggled to process what he was seeing.

The box was... empty.

Completely, utterly empty.

There was no ancient scroll containing the secrets of Devilfall Valley. No precious artifact. No cultivation manual. Not even a single medicinal pill or spiritual stone.

Just an empty jade container lined with silk padding that had clearly been designed to hold something valuable—but currently held absolutely nothing at all.

What the hell? Vogue’s thoughts raced frantically. Is this some kind of joke? Did Family Head Marcus give me a decoy box? Or was the real treasure already removed before we even entered the ruin?

He turned the box over carefully, examining every surface with both his eyes and his spiritual sense. He checked for hidden compartments, spatial compressions, illusion techniques—anything that might explain this baffling emptiness.

But no matter how thoroughly he investigated, the result remained the same. The jade box contained absolutely nothing of value.

After several minutes of fruitless examination, Vogue slowly lowered the box and sat down heavily on a moss-covered root, his mind whirling with confusion and frustration.

Wait, he thought, forcing himself to think logically rather than emotionally. If this box is truly empty, then what was everyone fighting over? Why would Sir Collins and his conspirators go to such elaborate lengths to acquire an empty container?

Unless...

A chilling realization began forming in Vogue’s mind.

Unless they didn’t know it was empty either. Unless whatever was supposed to be in these boxes was already taken by someone else long before we arrived.

He thought back to Mr. Yun’s behavior throughout the expedition. The white-clothed old man had claimed to have explored this ruin with Family Head Marcus previously, years ago, and failed to breach the inner barrier. But what if that wasn’t the whole truth?

What if Mr. Yun had actually succeeded in entering during that first expedition—perhaps alone, or with different allies—and had already claimed whatever treasures the boxes originally contained?

That would explain why he was so confident betraying Marcus now. He already possessed the real prize and was simply eliminating loose ends and potential rivals who might discover his earlier theft.

That cunning bastard, Vogue thought with reluctant admiration mixed with fury. He’s been playing everyone from the very beginning. The whole conspiracy to kill Marcus and acquire the jade boxes was just misdirection—a way to make sure no one suspected he had already looted the real treasures years ago.

It was a brilliant, ruthlessly efficient scheme. By making the jade boxes themselves the apparent objective, Mr. Yun had ensured that everyone’s attention focused on acquiring those containers rather than questioning whether they still held anything valuable.

And now Vogue was left holding an empty box while multiple Luminous Realm cultivators were undoubtedly hunting him with murderous intent, believing he possessed priceless secrets.

Wonderful, Vogue thought bitterly. Just absolutely perfect. I’ve made myself a target for nothing.

He was about to toss the worthless jade box aside in frustration when something made him pause.

His fingers had been absently tracing the interior silk lining, and he suddenly noticed something odd. There was a very subtle, almost imperceptible irregularity in one corner of the padding—a slight thickness that didn’t quite match the rest.

Vogue’s eyes narrowed with renewed focus. He carefully peeled back the silk lining in that corner, and his breath caught.

Hidden beneath the padding, pressed flat against the jade bottom, was a single thin piece of parchment. It had been deliberately concealed, placed so that casual inspection—even with spiritual sense—would miss it entirely.

With trembling fingers, Vogue carefully extracted the parchment and unfolded it.

The material was extraordinarily old, yellowed and fragile, but covered in neat, precise handwriting. The text appeared to be written in an archaic form of the common script, requiring Vogue to focus carefully to decipher the characters.

As he read the contents, his expression underwent a dramatic transformation—shifting from confusion to understanding to absolute astonishment.

The parchment was a letter. A personal message left by Master Cang Kun himself, written in the final days before his death three hundred years ago.

Vogue read it aloud quietly to himself, his voice barely above a whisper:

"To whoever has successfully opened this box and reads these words:

First, I must apologize for the deception. There are no treasures in these jade boxes—at least, not the kind you were likely expecting. No cultivation techniques, no artifacts, no pills. Those items were all distributed to my chosen disciples before my death, or destroyed to prevent them from falling into unworthy hands.

The true treasure I leave behind is knowledge. Information that I spent a lifetime acquiring at tremendous cost, and which I believe should not be lost to time.

The golden statue you saw enshrined in my dwelling is not a demon beast, though it resembles one. It depicts the primordial form of the Ancestral Chaos Dragon—one of the nine original progenitor bloodlines that existed before the current cultivation world took shape. I possessed a fragment of this bloodline, which allowed me to reach Saint Realm despite having mediocre talent in my youth.

If you are reading this, you likely also possess some connection to this bloodline—or you would not have been able to activate the opening mechanism, which required specific resonance frequencies that only certain bloodlines can produce.

Know this: the Ancestral Chaos Dragon bloodline is both a tremendous blessing and a terrible curse. It grants power far beyond normal cultivation, but it also marks you. There are ancient forces—older than nations, older than sects, older than recorded history—that hunt those who carry this blood. They seek to either enslave dragon-blooded cultivators or exterminate them entirely, depending on their philosophy.

I have spent much of my life fleeing from these hunters. The battle with the divine Phoenix that ended my life was not a chance encounter—it was an assassination arranged by those who feared what I might become if I grew stronger.

My advice to you, inheritor: hide your bloodline. Suppress its manifestations. Never reveal your true dragon form unless death is otherwise certain. The moment you expose yourself, you will be marked for elimination.

As for Devilfall Valley, which I suspect is what brought you here—that place is indeed real, and I have discovered a method to enter safely. But I cannot in good conscience share that information freely. Devilfall Valley is where many of those ancient forces maintain strongholds. Entering it without proper preparation is suicide for anyone carrying dragon blood.

Instead, I leave you with this guidance: Seek the Hidden Archive beneath the ruins of the First Capital. There, if you prove worthy, you may find records of the ancient dragon wars and learn the true history that has been systematically erased from common knowledge.

Survive, young one. Grow strong in secret. And perhaps one day, you will be powerful enough to stand against those who hunt our kind.

—Cang Kun"

Vogue carefully folded the parchment and sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling from the implications.

The Ancestral Chaos Dragon bloodline, he thought. Master Cang Kun possessed the same bloodline I have. That’s why the statue looked identical to my transformed state—we share the same primordial source.

And there are ancient forces that hunt anyone who carries this blood... That explained the lingering sense of danger he had felt ever since his bloodline evolved. It wasn’t paranoia—it was genuine, well-founded caution based on real threats.

The letter says I should hide my dragon form, never reveal it except in absolute emergency. Vogue grimaced. A bit late for that advice. I already showed my full transformation to everyone in that chamber—Mr. Yun, Sir Collins, Madam Violet, all of them saw my four dragon heads and multiple arms. If they survive and spread word of what I look like...

He didn’t finish the thought. The damage was already done. He had revealed his hand out of necessity during the escape, and now he would have to deal with the consequences.

But at least I gained valuable intelligence, Vogue tried to find the silver lining. I know now that my bloodline is both precious and dangerous. I know there are hunters specifically targeting dragon-blooded cultivators. And I have a potential lead on this "Hidden Archive" beneath the First Capital ruins, wherever that is.

Plus, I confirmed that the jade boxes were essentially worthless—which means Mr. Yun definitely already looted the real treasures during a previous expedition. That information might be useful leverage later.

Vogue carefully stored the parchment in his innermost storage space, protecting it as carefully as he would a priceless artifact. The knowledge it contained was genuinely valuable, even if it wasn’t the immediate treasure he had hoped for.

He looked up at the darkening sky through the forest canopy. Night was falling rapidly now, and he needed to make decisions about his next moves.

First priority: get as far away from this region as possible before Mr. Yun or the Klein Family can organize a proper pursuit. They’ll be searching frantically for me and this jade box.

Second: Reach the city where it will be safe, and properly assess my situation and plan next steps.