Gu Jun pedaled quietly down the slope from Temple Hill, the morning breeze brushing his face as the countryside rolled past. The rhythmic click of his bicycle chain echoed softly in the silence. His thoughts drifted toward the past, toward the strange journey that had been his eighteen years of life.
His father, Gu Long, was born in this very village. A brilliant student, he had earned top scores and a scholarship to Capital University, the most prestigious institution in the country. It was there, amid the towering buildings and endless ambition, that he met Zi Feng.
Zi Feng—Gu Jun's mother—came from the elite Zi family, one of the ten major families in the country. Back then, they ranked in the top five. Now, they were among the top three. Her name carried weight, her presence turned heads, and her ambitions soared far beyond the clouds.
Gu Jun's birth wasn't the result of love. It was the aftermath of a drunken mistake—two young people swept up in a moment, never intending for it to last.
When Zi Feng discovered she was pregnant, the news stirred some waves within her family. But the storm never reached its peak—her grandfather, the family patriarch, adored her. She was the brightest talent among her generation, and he refused to let scandal dim her light.
So, she and Gu Long agreed to marry. Out of responsibility, not affection.
But their worlds were never meant to align. Gu Long longed for a peaceful life in the countryside. Zi Feng, on the other hand, was born for power, politics, and for legacy. When Gu Jun was just two years old, she left—without ceremony or tears—and returned to the capital to pursue her destiny.
She never returned—not once—during his father's lifetime.
Yet, Gu Jun never let bitterness take root. His father made sure of that.
"She didn't leave because she stopped loving you," he would often say. "She left to protect her future… and maybe yours."
The last time Gu Jun saw his mother was two years ago, at his father's funeral.
Gu Long had passed quietly, a natural death. He hadn't been old, not really. Just one morning, he didn't wake up. There were no signs, no illness, no warning. It was as if something in him had simply… let go.
Despite all that had happened, Gu Long never remarried. He raised Gu Jun on his own, year after year, with quiet devotion and unshakable patience. Sometimes, Gu Jun would catch his father staring out the window, lost in thought.
And now he often wonders:
Was he happy?
But Gu Long never complained. He smiled often. Worked hard. And filled their little house with warmth. That, perhaps, was answer enough.
Gu Jun's thoughts shifted to another figure in his life: Master Qin Di.
The villagers said he had arrived on Temple Hill more than thirty years ago—twelve years before Gu Jun was born. At first, people were curious about the strange man who muttered to himself and stared for hours at the sky. But over time, they decided he had lost his mind. He was dismissed as a harmless lunatic. Forgotten.
But the truth was far more profound.
When his calculations revealed that the next successor to the throne would be born in this village, he sealed away his memories and power to conserve his strength—and waited.
And twelve years later, Gu Jun was born.
According to the tradition of the village, Gu Jun was born in the house, not in the hospital. There were several military doctors present during his birth, but something went wrong. The infant didn't cry. He didn't breathe. Panic broke out in the house. His family prepared to rush him to the hospital.
And then Qin Di appeared.
Silent and focused, he stepped forward, placed his hand over the newborn's chest, and Gu Jun took his first breath.
It was the moment fate awakened.
As the years passed, Qin Di became a constant in Gu Jun's life. A mentor, a playmate, and eventually a teacher, though Gu Jun didn't realize it at first. Many of his childhood days were spent at Temple Hill, listening to his master's strange riddles, climbing the old temple ruins, or simply gazing at the stars beside him.
And then came that day.
Gu Jun was twelve years old.
Strangers came to the village—men cloaked in black, silent and ruthless. They weren't robbers. They had come for him.
By then, Zi Feng had risen to power. After her grandfather's death, she took the helm of the Zi family. With status came enemies. And they saw Gu Jun as a weakness they could exploit.
He hadn't seen his mother in ten years.
But he didn't resent her.
His father always said she had left to protect him. That she had hidden him away in this quiet village for his own safety. And when the attack came, he learned it was true.
A secret guard, stationed in the shadows by his mother, emerged to protect him. But there were too many attackers. Too skilled. The guard was overwhelmed.
Then Qin Di appeared.
With a single wave of his hand, the invaders were turned to dust.
But the cost was great.
To awaken his sealed power, Qin Di had shattered the bindings on his soul. His body began to collapse. His time was running out.
For one day and one night, Qin Di sat with Gu Jun beneath the ancient trees of Temple Hill. He spoke of histories. He told him of the Death Race, the Wild Universe, and the Solar Seal. It sounded like a fairy tale, but Gu Jun knew it was real.
Before his final breath, Qin Di transferred his last reserves of qi into Gu Jun's body—cleansing it, refining it, preparing it to inherit the path ahead.
Then he was gone.
Gu Jun buried him on Temple Hill, under the crumbling shadow of the temple. And with his bare hand, he carved an epitaph into the gravestone in a language the earth had long since forgotten.
A silent vow etched in stone.
A legacy passed in silence.
And the beginning of something far greater.