Chapter One: Return to the Homeland

Once again stepping onto this mysterious yet familiar homeland, Du Gu Ming felt an intense sense of belonging. Du Gu Ming was an overseas Chinese from America, strikingly handsome and tall, with a mischievous smile that even made his thick eyebrows ripple softly, as if always curved in amusement—like a crescent moon shining in the night sky. His fair skin accentuated the faint rose tint of his lips, and his refined, prominent features perfectly complemented his flawless face, making him irresistibly attractive.

Fresh off the plane, Du Gu Ming exited the airport and immediately spotted a burly middle-aged man in black clothing and sunglasses, holding a large sign that read, "Welcome Du Gu Ming." Clearly, he was there to greet him.

“The old man’s friend seems pretty reliable,” Du Gu Ming thought, walking toward the sign.

Du Gu Yang, Du Gu Ming’s father, had an unclear profession—Du Gu Ming only knew he was supposedly involved in archaeological research. Yet their family held assets worth at least tens of millions in America. Du Gu Ming had tried to ask his father what exactly he did, but ever since he could remember, he had rarely seen him. Even during holidays, his appearances were scarce.

Because of this, Du Gu Ming had always referred to him as the irresponsible old man. All of Du Gu Ming's daily needs were cared for by an elderly woman in China. However, when Du Gu Ming turned sixteen, she passed away. He was deeply saddened, and from then on, had to look after himself, as his father remained as elusive as ever.

It wasn’t until last month that the old man, out of the blue, called Du Gu Ming—who was then partying at a nightclub—and told him to come to China for university. Du Gu Ming refused at first. Though often living a decadent lifestyle, indulging in food and entertainment, his abilities were extraordinary: he obtained his bachelor’s degree at ten, completed his master’s at twelve, earned his doctorate at fifteen, and won a Nobel Prize at seventeen. Aside from his vices, he was a rare genius.

But the infuriating old man threatened to cut off all his expenses unless he went to study in China. Fortunately, Du Gu Ming only resisted his father’s irresponsibility, not the idea of living in China. Despite his years abroad, as a descendant of the Yellow Emperor, he always considered himself a child of the dragon and was eager to experience life in his ancestral land.

And so, just as the tale began, Du Gu Ming returned to China.

“I am Du Gu Ming. Are you a friend of my father, Du Gu Yang?” Du Gu Ming asked the middle-aged man.

A hoarse voice came from beneath the sunglasses, “Yes, it’s me. From now on, everything here will be taken care of by me. Come with me.”

Du Gu Ming nodded and followed the man into a BMW, which sped off into the distance.

Not long after they left, four private planes landed one after another on the runway of the rather modest airport. Several young people, each dressed differently, descended from their respective planes—clearly scions of powerful and wealthy families.

They glanced at each other, obviously recognizing one another, but exchanged no greetings, only cold snorts, then climbed into their own luxurious cars and departed in different directions.

Du Gu Ming was unaware that, from the moment he set foot on this soil, everything had changed. The gears of fate had begun to turn, and nothing could alter their course.

“Uncle, where are we headed?” Du Gu Ming asked politely. Respect for elders and care for the young are virtues of the Chinese people—Du Gu Ming upheld these well. Despite his flaws, he was a gentleman at heart.

“I bought you a villa on the outskirts. You’ll stay there for now. I won’t usually disturb you; arrange everything as you wish. I’ve already prepared daily necessities for you. Here’s your living allowance—one million RMB. If you encounter any troubles, just call me.” With that, he handed Du Gu Ming a card from Shizuishan Bank and a slip of paper with a phone number.

A brief explanation: Du Gu Ming was now in Yinchuan, Ningxia Province, located in northwestern China, roughly on the back of the “rooster” that is China’s shape on the map. Du Gu Ming always wondered why the old man wanted him here. He could understand places like Beijing or Shanghai, but why come to this remote region?

Du Gu Ming researched Ningxia: it was once a gathering place of the Xiongnu, the capital of the Western Xia Kingdom, situated on the Loess Plateau, the legendary cradle of human civilization, at a great bend of the Yellow River—“All the riches of the Yellow River belong to Ningxia.” It was also said to be the birthplace of the dragon. After the founding of the nation, there were even reports of dragon sightings in Ningxia.

After reading these materials, Du Gu Ming realized that Ningxia was far from simple. The clues seemed to hint at something hidden. He felt he was on the verge of understanding, but couldn’t quite grasp it.

This place was certainly extraordinary. Otherwise, the old man wouldn’t have sent him to such a desolate land without reason.

Du Gu Ming was certain his father knew something, but that “neither seen in life nor found in death” old man had given him nothing besides a phone call instructing him to come. When Du Gu Ming tried calling again, the phone was switched off. Unable to do anything else, Du Gu Ming had no choice but to come here. Though uncertain of his purpose, his curiosity was piqued. He resolved to uncover the veil behind this mystery and learn the truth.

Meanwhile, in the suburbs of Yinchuan, there stood a sprawling, ultra-luxurious villa, occupying a hundred acres—looking from afar like a miniature palace.

Inside a bedroom of this villa, a stunning woman sat at the bedside, clad in a purple robe that hugged her slender waist and accentuated her graceful curves. Though not tall, her perfect proportions gave her an illusion of height. Her alluring figure contrasted sharply with her eyes, which shone with a piercing coldness; a single glance could cast one into an icy abyss, sending chills down the spine.

“Wenwen, the heirs of the four great families have arrived. What are your thoughts?” A raspy voice emanated from a cloud of black mist floating beside the peerless beauty. On closer look, a shadowy figure could be discerned within—a hunched old man dressed in black.

“Grandpa Hei, let them come. I only want to find what I’m searching for,” the beauty replied in a cold, low voice.

P.S.: Jimo has already written 100,000 words for “The Calamity of a Broken Life,” but today, Jimo deleted everything and started anew. Rest assured, Jimo won’t abandon the story and will strive to bring you a wonderful web novel. Please vote to encourage Jimo! Let’s work hard together—your casual bookmark is my greatest motivation. Thank you.