Lin Yan's body plummeted through scarlet mist as the **Rift of Reflection** swallowed him whole.
There was no bottom.
No sound.
Only the sense of falling... not through space, but **through memory.**
Suddenly—
**Silence.**
And then, the mist cleared.
Lin Yan stood barefoot on a cold stone platform floating in an endless black void. No wind. No sky. Just emptiness stretching in all directions.
Until it appeared.
**Himself.**
But not quite.
The figure that emerged from the darkness looked like him in body—same face, same silver-black hair—but its eyes were wrong. They were *empty*, lifeless, like glass dolls. Its wrists were chained, its robes torn and stained. But the worst part wasn't the appearance.
It was the way the figure **smiled**.
"Do you remember me?" it asked, voice soft… *identical to his own*. "I'm the one who begged. The one who cried. The one you hate."
Lin Yan clenched his fists. "You're not me."
The figure laughed, and the chains on its wrists slithered like snakes.
"I'm the part you buried. The part that screamed when they took everything. The furnace. The victim. The failure. And now…"
It raised its hand. A black flame flickered in its palm.
"…you've come here to kill me."
---
The duel began with silence.
No weapons.
Just spirit and intent.
The dark version of Lin Yan struck first—fast, precise, and brutal. Every movement mimicked the helplessness of his past: shackles that bound, hands that clawed, and energy that drained.
Lin Yan was hit again and again.
His breath caught in his chest. His old wounds throbbed.
But he didn't fall.
He gritted his teeth, pushed back, and let his **First Flame** ignite—blazing gold and red, clashing against the cold black.
"I'm not the boy in chains anymore!" he roared.
---
They clashed in the void, flame versus shadow.
Each time Lin Yan landed a blow, a memory burned away: the altar, the laughter, the shame.
The reflection weakened.
"I protected us!" it screamed. "I endured so we could survive!"
Lin Yan paused.
Then, slowly, he stepped forward and placed his flame-coated hand on the reflection's chest.
"I know," he said quietly. "But we can't stay broken forever."
The dark version's eyes widened.
And then—
**Light.**
---
Lin Yan awoke in the real world, lying at the edge of the rift. His cloak was scorched, his chest ached—but his spirit pulsed with power.
The flame in his dantian had changed.
It was no longer wild.
It was **tempered.**
---
**Spirit Tempering Realm — First Layer.**
He had crossed into a new realm.
When Mei Qingxue saw him rise, covered in ash and snow, she gave him a long, searching look.
"You faced it," she said.
Lin Yan nodded.
"I didn't win."
She raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"I accepted it."