"Whew…"
By the roadside stood a handsome young man, a faint smile resting on his lips as though a mountain weighing upon his heart had finally crumbled to dust.
With his hands tucked into his pockets, he walked leisurely down the long street.
His name was Meng Zhou.
And he was not of this world.
Yes, he was a transmigrator.
He had crossed into a world known as the Blue Star. After transmigrating, he still bore the name Meng Zhou, still lived as an orphan who had grown up under the charity of kind neighbors.
He had never known his biological parents. Relying only on stubborn resilience and an unyielding will, he survived into adulthood step by step.
Just moments ago, he had finally made a decision.
He bid farewell to his former colleagues and resolved to begin anew.
It was not just resignation, it was a farewell to the previous Meng Zhou.
For the soul within this body no longer belonged to that life.
Now that the decision had been made, Meng Zhou felt as light as drifting clouds.
As he walked, he observed the familiar yet unfamiliar cityscape. Much resembled the world he once knew, yet beneath the surface lay subtle differences unique to this world, stirring complex emotions within him.
The world… had truly changed.
On this planet, five supreme nations stood at the pinnacle, dividing the globe like ancient overlords. Countless smaller countries survived beneath their shadow.
Meng Zhou now resided in Jiangcheng, within Jiangnan Province of the Great Xia Kingdom, one of the five great powers.
The former Meng Zhou had never once paused to truly look at this world. Survival had consumed every breath.
In the end, he had worked himself to sudden death.
And thus, another Meng Zhou arrived.
As he continued forward, the sky began to dim.
Dark clouds rolled across the heavens, swallowing the sun in heavy gloom.
Meng Zhou lifted his head and frowned.
Rain was coming.
But in the next instant, his expression froze.
Through the shifting clouds, a moon emerged.
There was nothing unusual about seeing the moon during the day.
But this moon…
Was blood-red.
It hung in the sky like a wound torn open in the firmament, radiating a sinister, eerie glow.
Meng Zhou stared at it.
His heartbeat quickened.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
It felt as though his heart had formed some strange resonance with that Blood Moon above.
Suddenly he crouched down, clutching his chest. His lips turned pale.
His heart pounded violently, bringing waves of dizziness and panic. His body had never been robust to begin with, this sensation only worsened his discomfort.
He forced himself to look up again.
The Blood Moon had vanished, As though it had never existed.
Meng Zhou stood there in stunned silence.
He did not believe it had been an illusion.
His body would not lie.
A Blood Moon had appeared.
"How could such a thing exist…? I must have seen wrong," he murmured inwardly, trying to steady himself.
Yet the moment he recalled it, that crimson image surfaced vividly in his mind.
And his heart began racing once more.
This was no hallucination.
The Blood Moon was real.
Dark clouds thickened overhead.
A thunderclap exploded across the sky, startling passersby.
Rain began to fall.
Large drops struck the pavement in rapid succession.
Meng Zhou quickened his pace, intending to return home before the storm worsened. But his frail body could not move swiftly.
The rain quickly soaked through his clothes.
A bone-deep chill seeped into him.
Instinctively, he raised his hand to shield his face.
Red.
A glaring, piercing crimson.
Meng Zhou froze.
He slowly lifted his gaze.
What fell from the heavens was not rain.
It was Blood Rain.
Crimson droplets poured down like heaven weeping wounds upon the earth.
The unease that had barely subsided surged violently once more.
He did not understand what was happening.
He could only run.
Instinct told him to escape.
Before long, he stumbled into an old and cluttered street.
Old Street.
Its original name had long since been buried in time. Only this simple title remained.
This street was lined with funeral parlors, fortune-telling stalls, and Feng Shui shops. Faded signboards swayed in the wind.
Yet at this moment, not a single soul could be seen.
All shop doors were tightly shut.
With nowhere else to go, Meng Zhou rushed beneath the eaves of a nearby building to shelter from the rain.
The Blood Rain splattered heavily around him.
He wiped his face, unease tightening his chest.
"Young man… taking shelter from the rain?"
A raspy voice suddenly sounded behind him.
The fine hairs along his neck rose instantly.
He turned.
An old woman sat upon a small wooden stool, smiling at him.
Her face was carved with deep wrinkles. Her voice was like a broken bellows dragged across rusted iron.
Meng Zhou instinctively took two steps back.
The old woman's smile widened.
"Young man, your Yintang is dark. Black clouds gather above your head."
Her voice lowered into something almost like a whisper.
"A great calamity… is coming."
A chill ran down Meng Zhou's spine.
⸻———X——————
At that very moment
Across the entirety of Deep Blue Star, a torrential rain the color of blood descended.
It fell fiercely, like the Great Flood spoken of in ancient scripture.
Yet not a single person realized anything was amiss.
To them, it was merely rain.
None could see that it was Blood Rain.
The crimson droplets seeped into the soil, nourished plants, touched beasts, and landed upon human skin.
From the depths of the earth, faint strands of invisible Qi began to rise.
They drifted silently into the air, spreading across the world.
Blue Star was undergoing a transformation unseen by mortal eyes.
Something was awakening.
In forgotten legends, it was called…
The recovery of Spiritual Qi.