An endless void.
That was all I felt.
There was no pain, no sound—just darkness stretching in every direction like an ocean of silence. I floated there, not knowing how long it lasted. An hour? A year? A lifetime?
Then, suddenly, a blinding light pierced through.
Warmth. Air. A heartbeat that wasn't mine.
And a voice—soft, gentle—murmuring something I couldn't understand.
I opened my eyes.
I was being held.
A man cradled me in his arms, his features soft and graceful. Long hair tied behind his head, silky robes wrapped around his slender frame. His smile was full of warmth, and his eyes glistened with joy.
He was beautiful.
And then, a shadow fell over me.
A tall woman leaned forward. Her face was sharp, her presence heavy. She took me from the man's arms and looked down at me with a blank expression—neither affectionate nor cruel. Her eyes studied me like I was a puzzle she couldn't solve.
That was the moment I knew.
I had been reincarnated.
Time passed like flowing water. My body grew, and so did my understanding of the world I now lived in.
Ten years later, I was no longer Mo Liang, the betrayed warrior of a patriarchal world. I was now Sima Rin, second son of the prestigious yet declining Sima Clan—a name that once shook the Murim world.
But this world… was wrong.
Here, everything was reversed.
Women ruled the martial world. They were warriors, generals, sect leaders, and monarchs. Men? Men were meant to be beautiful. Gentle. Obedient. Born to serve, to manage the household, to bear children and marry into powerful families like political tokens.
It made my blood boil.
In my past life, I was betrayed by the woman I loved. I died hating her and the system that allowed her to use me like a pawn. But this world—this matriarchal society—was even more twisted.
Here, every woman was like her.
At least, that's what I believed.
My mother's name is Sima Huizhen—the current matriarch of the Sima Clan. She is the embodiment of this world's ideals: powerful, commanding, and unwavering in her belief that gender roles are destiny.
She treats my father with polite detachment—like a decorative ornament that belongs in the background of her legacy.
My father, Sima Yulan, is the kindest soul I've ever met. He cooks, teaches etiquette, helps me dress in delicate robes, and constantly reminds me to "walk with grace" and "smile softly like a good young man should."
And I hate that part of him.
Not because he's weak—he isn't—but because he truly believes this is what a man should be.
I am not like that.
I was a warrior. I am a warrior. I refuse to let this world turn me into a delicate ornament.
I also have an elder brother—Sima Lianzhen.
Quiet. Observant. Overprotective to a fault.
He watches me constantly, always keeping women—especially outsiders—away from me. He rarely speaks, but when he does, his words carry weight. He has a sharp intuition, and I sometimes wonder if he senses the fire burning inside me.
Then there's my elder sister—Sima Qianlan.
Tall, proud, with sharp eyes like our mother. She is the young lady of the Sima Clan and carries the full weight of the clan's expectations on her shoulders. Her blade is fast, her words faster. She doesn't talk much to me—perhaps because I'm "just a boy"—but I can feel the tension every time we share a room.
My grandmother, Sima Ruyan, was the matriarch of the previous generation and now serves as the Supreme Elder of the Sima Clan. She is currently the strongest martial artist our clan. Her presence commands absolute authority.
And yet, despite all that power, I've never feared her.
Perhaps because she doesn't look at me with disdain... but with curiosity.
But there's one person in this family whom I cherish above all:
Sima Zhengqi—my grandfather.
He is the only man in this clan who once walked the martial path. A rare soul who rebelled against the rigid gender rules of his time. He forged a path of martial cultivation specifically for men. He fought with the elders of his generation, stood against tradition, and carved his own legacy.
He created martial arts techniques that didn't rely on physique —since men in this world have delicate physique —and instead focused on sharpness,breath control, and mental discipline.
Because of him, a few men in the clan are now permitted to train in secret.
Today is my tenth birthday.
And today is the day my grandfather promised to begin teaching me.
The wind carries the scent of dew and cut grass as I walk through the inner courtyard of the Sima estate. The stone path glows faintly under the morning sun. Disciples are training in the distance—women in red robes practicing sword formations, their movements crisp and deadly.
I ignore them.
Today is mine.
I reach the secluded training ground behind the bamboo grove. A place forbidden to most of the clan.
There, standing in the center of the old stone platform, is Sima Zhengqi.
His posture is tall and firm, his robes simple but clean. He holds a long wooden practice sword in one hand.
He turns toward me.
His face lights up with a warm, grandfatherly smile. "Well, well. The little Sima clan warrior has arrived."
I feel something in my chest stir.
I step onto the platform, barefoot, the stone cool beneath my feet. "I'm here," I say, trying to hide the excitement in my voice. "I'm ready."
He chuckles. "Ready to become the strongest in the world, are you?"
I nod without hesitation. "Yes."
His eyes narrow, not with skepticism—but with pride. "Then let's begin."