There was no transition.
No flash of light.
No sensation of movement.
One moment, Lu Haotian lay on cold stone, every bone aching from the previous battle. The next—
Warm sunlight fell on his face.
He frowned and opened his eyes.
Blue sky. Soft clouds. The familiar tiled roofs of the Lu Family estate stretched before him. A gentle breeze carried the scent of cooked rice and herbs.
He sat up abruptly.
"…The courtyard?"
His body was intact. No wounds. No exhaustion. Even his clothes were clean and neatly folded around him.
"Did I… return?" he muttered.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
"Young Master!"
He turned.
Mei Nan came running toward him, her braids bouncing as she waved. She looked a little older, cheeks fuller, eyes bright with worry.
"You scared me," she said, slightly out of breath. "You fell asleep in the courtyard again."
Lu Haotian's heart skipped.
"Mei Nan…?"
She tilted her head. "Who else would it be?"
Relief surged through him so strongly that his vision blurred. He stood quickly, almost knocking her over as he pulled her into an awkward hug.
"You're here," he said hoarsely. "You're really here."
She laughed, pushing him away. "You're acting strange again. You promised to practice sword forms today."
Sword forms.
The words felt… dull.
The days that followed passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Lu Haotian trained.
Years passed.
Slowly.
Painfully.
He advanced through qi condensation like mud swallowing feet. Fifth layer at fifteen. Sixth at eighteen. Foundations establishment came late—so late it barely felt like an achievement.
At fourty, he left the Lu Family.
Not chased out.
Not expelled.
Simply… forgotten.
He became a city guard in a small town far from Hei Yan City. His cultivation plateaued at early Foundation establishment. No breakthroughs. No miracles.
He married a gentle woman who knew nothing of cultivation. They had children with ordinary spirit roots. He taught them sword basics in the evenings.
Life was calm.
Peaceful.
And suffocating.
One evening, he sat alone outside his modest home, staring at the dim lantern light.
His hands were rough. Scarred.
A guard's hands.
He looked up at the sky.
The stars were distant.
Silent.
He frowned.
"…Why do I feel like something is missing?"
The feeling grew.
A pressure in his chest.
He tried to recall something—anything—before this life.
The forest.
The stone slab.
The wolves.
It all felt like a dream.
"No," he whispered.
His breath hitched.
"No… this isn't right."
A memory surfaced uninvited.
Mei Nan walking away beside Lian Yue.
The bottle of pills in his hand.
Pain. Resolve. Loneliness.
His heart began to pound.
"This life… is too free."
The stars overhead didn't shift.
Didn't sparkle.
Didn't respond.
Lu Haotian stood abruptly.
The world around him blurred slightly at the edges.
"If this is real," he said aloud, "then why does my heart feel dead?"
The illusion pushed back.
His wife called his name.
His children laughed.
Warmth tried to anchor him.
He clenched his fists until his nails bit into skin.
"I didn't struggle just to end here," he said quietly.
The pressure increased. His head throbbed. The illusion thickened, trying to drown his thoughts.
He closed his eyes.
"I would rather die chasing the peak," he said, voice steady, "than live a lifetime kneeling to mediocrity."
Silence.
Then—
Cracks.
The world shattered like glass.
Lantern light fractured into shards.
Faces twisted and dissolved.
The calm life collapsed inward.
Lu Haotian opened his eyes.
He stood alone in a boundless gray space.
Pain tore through his head—not physical, but deeper. His senses expanded violently, as if something unseen had torn open his awareness.
Qi surged around him.
Not entering his body—answering him.
He gasped, staggering as invisible currents brushed his skin.
Understanding flooded in.
Not strength.
Not power.
Perception.
He could feel qi now.
See its flow.
Hear its pulse.
His qi sense stretched outward, expanding until the space trembled.
Qi Condensation…
No.
Further.
Higher.
It stabilized—at the very edge.
Foundation Establishment Ninth Layer level of perception.
Yet his cultivation base remained unchanged.
He dropped to one knee, breathing hard, eyes burning.
—Trial of Illusion: Passed.—
Lu Haotian laughed softly, exhaustion and exhilaration tangled together.
"I see it now," he murmured. "What I refuse… matters."
The gray space began to change once more.
But this time—
He was ready.