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Chapter 2 : A Sign Of Life

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  Silence hung like a leaden shroud.

  Only the wind whistled through the cracks in the fractured walls, gliding over the rotting beams like a whisper from the past.

  Feng Lin slowly opened his eyes.

  His vision was blurry, his body aching. Every muscle was numb, as if invisible chains had held him captive for years.

  But he was free.

  At last.

  His gaze slowly swept across the room.

  It was a bedroom… but it looked more like a prison.

  Walls tarnished by time, a ceiling devoured by dampness, a single rickety table, and a bed with tattered sheets. Even the light filtering through the windows seemed exhausted, as if it hesitated to enter this place forgotten by all.

  Feng Lin forced himself to breathe deeply.

  Every breath was agony.

  — My body is too weak...

  A barely perceptible tremor ran through his fingers as he tried to move. His legs felt foreign, as if they refused to obey him.

  Fifteen years.

  Fifteen years without the slightest movement.

  A five-year-old child, poisoned, plunged into a coma before he even had the chance to understand what was happening to him.

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  And today, he was no longer a child. His soul belonged to a Pre-Celestial Emperor who had once ruled the heavens...

  But this body...

  This wretched mortal body, stripped of strength, emptied of all spiritual essence...

  A shiver of irritation ran down his spine.

  In his past life, he could have obliterated a kingdom with a mere gesture. His very name was enough to make the stars tremble.

  And now?

  He was nothing more than a cripple, barely able to stand.

  Feng Lin clenched his fists. The humiliation was unbearable.

  But he refused to be crushed by this temporary weakness.

  He slowly placed his hand on his chest and closed his eyes, trying to awaken his memory.

  His clan. His past. His legacy.

  But what he found...

  Were only scattered fragments, shattered, scattered through the depths of his mind.

  Like an ancient painting, eroded by time.

  Blurred faces. Nameless voices. Places without shape.

  An unfathomable abyss.

  Feng Lin abruptly opened his eyes.

  — My soul is too unstable.

  He had not only lost his body.

  His very memory was damaged.

  The memories of his past life were still there, somewhere… But his shattered soul prevented him from fully accessing them.

  And more than that…

  He had no cultivation techniques.

  His knowledge was that of an Emperor. But it was useless in this mortal body.

  An Emperor never bothered to remember basic techniques. He had never needed them.

  — Even a dragon fallen from the sky must crawl before regaining its wings...

  A bitter smirk twisted his lips.

  He would have to rebuild everything. From the ground up.

  A feeling of frustration boiled within him, but he crushed it immediately.

  It didn’t matter.

  He would climb the heavens once more.

  But for that… he first needed to understand where he was and who controlled this place.

  A sound suddenly echoed through the house.

  Dong.

  A heavy, metallic vibration.

  Dong.

  Feng Lin turned slightly toward the door.

  A clock?

  The deep, weighty sound resonated through the walls, like an echo from the past.

  Dong.

  How much had changed in fifteen years?

  Had his clan fallen into obscurity?

  Was his name still spoken somewhere, or had it been erased from history?

  He slowly straightened up, ignoring the pain coursing through his muscles.

  Then… he heard another sound.

  Footsteps.

  Slow. Then hesitant.

  Someone was approaching.

  Feng Lin forced himself to steady his breathing. He was too weak to fight, but his mind was ready to face anyone.

  The footsteps stopped in front of the door.

  The handle creaked softly.

  A short breath was heard. Then… the door opened.

  A figure appeared.

  An old woman, bent with age. Her hunched back bore the weight of time, her simple, worn linen clothes showing she did not belong to the nobility. Her white hair was tied in a careless bun, and her wrinkled hands trembled slightly.

  When she lifted her eyes to him…

  Her body froze.

  Feng Lin saw her face crumble.

  Her breath caught, her eyes widened, and an absolute disbelief reflected in them.

  Her fragile fingers lost all strength.

  The gourd she was holding slipped from her hands.

  It hit the ground with a dull thud, splashing water across the dusty floor.

  A chilling silence settled.

  The old woman opened her mouth… but no sound came out.

  She seemed unable to breathe, frozen in mute terror.

  Her lips trembled.

  Feng Lin did not move.

  He simply watched the old woman as shock slowly twisted her features.

  In the silence, only the echo of the clock still resonated.

  Dong.

  Dong.

  Dong.

  His nightmare had only just begun.

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