◆ A Sleepless Villa Under Silent Stars
The night after the Qin family meeting was not peaceful.
Moonlight washed over the Long family villa, pale and cold, tracing every corner of the courtyard in silver. Inside, the world seemed quiet—warm kitchen, dim hallway lamps, the faint ticking of a grandfather clock—but Long Xingchen felt the silence differently.
A pressure.
An echo.
A warning.
He opened his bedroom window and let the night breathe against his skin. His eyes scanned the street automatically.
A parked car with its engine off.
A man walking a dog who wasn't really a dog walker.
A rooftop shadow watching the villa's perimeter.
All of them connected to the same family.
All of them unworthy of the fear they wished to create.
He closed the curtain and sat on the floor, crossing his legs.
The breath he drew felt heavy.
The breath he released felt sharp.
He began cultivating.
---
◆ Beneath the Skin, a Cultivator Awakens
His soul ignited first.
A soft, faint hum—like the ringing of a sword forged under starlight—vibrated through his consciousness. The Heaven-Defying Body Refining Technique awakened, moving through his muscles like liquid flame.
Heat rose from his spine.
Cold flooded his arms.
His bones tightened, strengthened, hardened.
Small cracks echoed inside his chest as cartilage and marrow adjusted to a higher path.
His entire body shuddered—once, twice.
Then stillness.
When he opened his eyes, the room seemed clearer. Every shadow sharper. Every sound more distinct.
The system's voice chimed, echoing softly:
> [Body Refinement: 6% → 11%]
[Mortal Foundation: Peak Stage]
[Soul Capacity: 13% → 16%]
He flexed his fingers lightly.
A faint surge of qi stirred along his palm like a warm breeze.
He stood and walked toward the mirror. A teenager stared back. But the eyes—those weren't the eyes of a fifteen-year-old.
Those were the eyes of someone who had climbed the corpses of gods and watched heaven die twice.
---
◆ A Fragment That Whispers Across Time
His heart tightened suddenly.
The fragment awakened.
Not violently.
Not painfully.
Gently—like a sigh in his blood.
A vision struck him.
A long jade corridor lined with blue flames.
Lanterns swayed in a wind that didn't exist.
Divine qi thick enough to taste.
And then—
Her.
The woman from the fragments.
Standing with calm certainty.
Long hair trailing behind her like a comet's tail.
"You walk toward the wrong door," she whispered.
"What door should I walk through?" Xingchen asked, voice echoing across the jade walls.
She lifted a hand—her fingers trembling for the first time, ever.
"The sky is listening."
The vision cracked.
Light shattered.
And he was back in his bedroom.
Sweat slid down his spine.
His breath felt too heavy.
But he understood one thing:
The Great Silence had noticed him.
And it hated being noticed back.
---
◆ A Father's Fear in a Quiet Study
Xingchen stepped out of his room and walked down the dim hallway. His father's study light glowed beneath the gap of the door.
He pushed it open.
Long Tianhai sat at the desk, papers spread everywhere, brow creased with stress.
"Dad?" Xingchen asked.
His father looked up, startled. "You're not asleep?"
"You too."
Long Tianhai leaned back, rubbing his temples.
"Xingchen… what happened at the meeting today?" he asked softly. "You spoke as if you knew their strategies. As if you'd seen it all before."
Xingchen didn't answer immediately.
His father didn't understand reincarnation.
Didn't know he had buried him in another life.
Didn't know the Qin family tore them apart.
He stepped closer and said gently:
"Dad… trust me for a few days. I'll solve what you can't see."
His father held his gaze.
Then nodded slowly.
"Alright."
Xingchen placed a hand on his father's shoulder.
"You're not alone this time."
---
◆ A School Morning That Felt Too Still
The next morning, the sky hung low, clouds thick and unmoving. Xingchen walked to school, but something felt off in the air.
Observe.
Record.
Analyze.
A parked car.
A man pretending to buy cigarettes.
A student he had never seen before taking the same route.
He reached the gate.
Chen Hao ran toward him, face pale.
"Bro! Those men—those 'officials'—they came again! They asked about you, your family, your dad's work—everything!"
Zhao Feng nodded. "They were smiling, but… it felt like they were measuring coffins."
Xingchen patted his friend's shoulder.
"You both did well. Stay away from them."
They swallowed, nodded, and walked off.
Xingchen entered the school quietly.
His instincts prickled.
Someone was watching him.
Not Qin family.
Not humans.
Something colder.
He turned—
A student stood by the stairwell, eyes too calm, gaze too steady.
Not normal.
Xingchen walked away without staring.
But he marked the face.
---
◆ The Girl He Couldn't Lose Twice
Lunch came.
Lin Yuerou found him beneath the basketball court shade, hands gripping her lunch tray too tightly.
"Xingchen… can we talk?"
He nodded.
They walked to a quiet corner.
She looked up at him, eyes shimmering with unspoken worry.
"You didn't answer my message last night," she whispered.
"I was training."
"That's what scares me," she murmured. "You're getting involved in something dangerous. I feel it. Something… terrible."
Her voice almost cracked on the last word.
Xingchen's chest tightened.
She died alone in the previous life.
Afraid.
Hopeless.
Cornered by fate.
Not again.
He reached out and brushed her hair back.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
Her breath caught.
Her cheeks reddened.
"…I know."
She didn't pull away from his touch.
She leaned into it.
His fingers trembled slightly from emotion he didn't show.
---
◆ Where Hatred Breathes in Silk Suits
After school, Xingchen walked straight toward the place he sensed danger.
An expensive black car parked too perfectly.
The door opened.
Qin Shaoyang stepped out, adjusting his jacket, smirk stitched across his lips.
"Well," Shaoyang drawled, "you've grown brave."
Xingchen approached like a storm hidden in silence.
"You want something from me?"
Shaoyang clicked his tongue.
"You embarrassed us yesterday. Today, I return the favor."
He snapped his fingers.
Three suited operatives emerged.
Xingchen sighed.
"You brought lackeys?"
Shaoyang sneered. "You think you can fight—"
"You're beneath fighting."
Xingchen's eyes turned cold as winter steel.
The operatives moved first.
Wrong move.
Xingchen vanished.
A gust hit their lungs.
Another knocked knees apart.
A final tap at the base of the neck—
Three bodies hit asphalt.
Shaoyang stumbled back, shocked.
"You—you—are you even human?!"
Xingchen stepped close enough for Shaoyang to feel his breath on his cheek.
"I'm the one who decides if you breathe tomorrow."
Shaoyang froze.
Paled.
Xingchen whispered:
"You don't get a second warning."
He turned and walked away casually.
Shaoyang didn't move until Xingchen had disappeared.
---
◆ Before the Heavens Fall Again
Night fell.
Xingchen returned home. His family ate dinner quietly, unaware of the storm that sketched its shadow across their future.
The system chimed right as he reached his room.
> [Cooldown: 5 days 11 hours]
[Time Anchor: 980,000 years before first collapse]
[Era Grade: Divine Civilization — High Stability]
His pulse quickened.
He wasn't traveling to a dying era this time.
He would witness a world on the brink of perfection—
before cracks formed, before heavens broke, before gods vanished.
His hands clenched.
"I'm coming," he whispered to the fragment, to the woman, to the lost worlds.
---
◆ The Gate of Time Trembles
As he lay on his bed, ready to rest—
The fragment pulsed once.
Hard.
The vision hit him like thunder:
An immortal palace suspended in the sky.
A divine city glowing with celestial light.
A god-like figure standing at a mountain peak.
The woman beside him.
Both staring at the horizon—
Where the first crack in the heavens appeared.
"Traveler," the woman whispered.
"Do not arrive late this time."
The vision shattered.
Xingchen gasped for breath.
His body trembled.
The system spoke:
> [Warning: Great Silence has noticed Host's resonance.]
[Strengthen soul immediately.]
[Prepare for early interference.]
Xingchen stood slowly.
His eyes hardened.
"Let it notice me," he murmured.
"I'm coming to break its silence."