The void.
An endless abyss, where neither time nor space existed.
Everything could have remained this way for eternity. But something clung to the dying consciousness, refusing to disappear.
Then, pain.
At first diffuse, it suddenly spread like a thousand needles piercing his soul. A burning sensation coursed through his veins, forcing an instinctive reaction.
— Hngh…
His eyelids twitched before suddenly opening.
A dim, flickering light blinded him for a moment. He squinted, his gaze slowly adjusting to his surroundings. What he saw struck him immediately.
A dirty, cracked wooden ceiling.
Dull walls, gnawed by humidity.
The stench of mold and stale air filled the space, assaulting his nostrils. He tried to inhale, but a wave of weakness immediately overwhelmed him.
His muscles trembled under their own weight, unable to react properly. His body was… cold. He could no longer feel the familiar strength that had once surged through his meridians like an infinite ocean of energy.
— This body…?
His fingers twitched, then clenched onto the rough, threadbare sheets. He attempted to sit up, but a brutal dizziness crushed him back onto the mattress.
He slowly lowered his gaze and discovered thin, almost emaciated arms. His hands, once capable of bending the heavens and crushing continents, were now frail and trembling.
A heavy silence settled.
Then, a laugh. Deep. Icy.
— So, even I have been reduced to this…
For a fleeting moment, his memories surged forth, a violent storm raging through his mind.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
He was Feng Lin, the invincible Celestial Emperor, the absolute master of heaven and earth. His name alone was enough to make the immortal realms tremble. His gaze could break geniuses, and his power dictated the fate of millions.
But he had fallen.
Betrayed by those he had elevated. Struck down by hands he had once protected. He remembered his final battle, the fury and despair of a man standing alone against the world. Then… nothingness.
Yet, he was alive.
His gaze hardened.
No, he was no longer the Celestial Emperor. He was… someone else.
Gradually, his memories merged with those of the body he now inhabited.
This body belonged to a different Feng Lin. A weak young man, the last heir of a once-prestigious clan, now despised and forgotten. He should have possessed immense potential, but an unknown poison coursed through his veins, slowly eroding his life force and sealing his meridians.
He understood immediately.
— This poison… someone wanted him dead.
No… wanted me dead.
The former Feng Lin had died because of this. Betrayed. Poisoned. Abandoned.
And now, he found himself in this miserable body, a pathetic remnant of a fallen clan.
But this world was making an unforgivable mistake if it thought he would accept this humiliation.
A cold smile stretched across his lips.
— No matter who did this… I will find them.
His gaze gleamed with a cruel light.
His current weakness was only a temporary shackle. He had already climbed to the peak once. He knew exactly what to do.
This world thought he was buried.
He would prove to them that an Emperor never dies.
And this time…
Those who had betrayed him, those who had forgotten him, those who had scorned him…
All would pay.
But first… the Poison Purification.
Feng Lin slowly clenched his fists.
This body was weak. Too weak. But that was not the only reason for his pitiful state.
The poison.
He could feel it, crawling through his veins like a swarm of venomous serpents. Every breath was a struggle against an invisible weight, every heartbeat a silent agony.
He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the faintest trace of energy he still possessed.
— Let’s see…
His former cultivation had vanished, reduced to nothing. All that remained was… a breath. A mere sliver, a remnant of the power he once wielded.
Another might have collapsed into despair.
He, however, smirked coldly.
— That’s enough.
He did not need overwhelming power to survive. Just a single moment.
His consciousness delved deep within his own body, probing every corner. And he found it: a tiny fragment of his former essence, buried deep within his collapsed dantian.
With a trembling motion, he pressed his index and middle fingers against his dantian, igniting what little strength remained.
A blue flame flared within him, minuscule but scorching. It seeped into his meridians, illuminating his body from within.
— Come out.
His voice was barely a whisper, but the command was absolute.
The poison reacted instantly, writhing violently. Agony ripped through his body, but he did not stop.
Then, with a sharp flicker, the blue flame vanished.
Everything fell silent once more.
He slowly opened his hand. A black pearl, no larger than a grain of rice, rested in his palm.
He crushed it between his fingers.
— I survived.
This was only the beginning.
Facing his new body.
Feng Lin took a deep breath. His breathing was still uneven, but the heaviness in his limbs had significantly lessened.
With slow, measured movements, he pushed aside the threadbare sheets and placed his feet on the ground. The cold touch of the aged wood made him realize just how frail this body was. He stood, but a wave of dizziness struck him.
He staggered slightly but caught himself against a wobbly piece of furniture. A sneer twisted his lips. To be reduced to this… was an insult.
His gaze landed on a cracked mirror, hanging askew on the opposite wall. He approached it with slow steps, his breath still short.
What he saw made him freeze for a moment.
A young man stared back at him, his complexion pale, his features hollowed by illness. His black hair was unkempt, dull, and lifeless. His golden eyes were the only thing that broke the image of frailty.
He ran his fingers over his own face, feeling the thinness beneath his skin.
— Pitiful.
Slowly, he straightened his back, his gaze hardening.
— Let the heavens remember… an Emperor has returned.
