The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows over the Rising Cloud Sect. The quiet hum of cultivation drifted through the hills like a soft lullaby.
Inside a small hut tucked at the edge of the outer disciple quarters, Ling Xian sat cross-legged on a straw mat. The place was simple—bare walls, a wooden table, a single jade lamp flickering softly beside him. But within this silence, storms brewed beneath his calm gaze.
His eyes were half-closed, face still, but his mind... was elsewhere.
So it really happened, he thought. Rebirth... in this fragile body. After everything.
A flicker of pain passed through his chest—not physical, but spiritual.
The last moments before his death replayed in his mind. The sky soaked in blood. The crushing encirclement of enemies. The weight of a thousand betrayals. And at the center of it all—her. Yu Ruoxi, her fading essence… the stillness in her soul.
Too late. I couldn't save her. I couldn't even save myself.
But death had not been the end.
In that moment, when his heart had stopped and his soul drifted from his shattered body… something ancient had reached out. Not a deity. Not karma.
A force beyond life and death. A primordial will... older than the heavens.
He hadn't understood it fully, but he remembered its voice—not with his ears, but with every fiber of his existence.
"You are not done.""The world needs your chaos… again."
And then—darkness.
And then—light.
When he opened his eyes next, he was in this body. A disciple of a lower realm sect. Weak. Humiliated. Beaten by insects who couldn't even touch the hem of his robes in his past life.
The heavens pulled me here for a reason, he thought, gripping his knees tighter. This realm… it hides things the upper realms cannot imagine.
He had already sensed it. The qi here was strange—less refined, but ancient. The ground whispered with echoes of inheritance. His soul itched every time he meditated, like it was being called by something buried deep beneath the surface of this world.
And now, he had time.
Time to grow.
Time to rebuild.
Time… to take revenge.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Let them laugh now. Let them overlook me. When I rise again… no one will be able to touch me—not even those who call themselves gods.
His breathing slowed. Qi flowed around him like mist, entering his meridians naturally, gently strengthening his fragile flesh.
Suddenly, outside, footsteps echoed.
Voices.
"Is that where Ling Xian stays?""Hmph, always so quiet.""Still can't believe how he changed…"
He heard them. But he didn't move.
Instead, he opened his eyes—deep, dark, and filled with a calm intensity.
They'll all know soon enough…
To be continue....