Li Yun sat in silence long after the servant left, absorbing the weight of his new reality.
This body... was soft.
Too soft.
He flexed his fingers. Uncalloused. His muscles lacked tension. Coordination was sluggish. And beneath the surface, his dantian—the spiritual core—felt like a candle in the wind, flickering and fragile.
"A spoiled noble's body," he muttered. "But the mind of a killer."
He scanned the lavish room again: silk curtains, antique vases, books scattered unread, wine spilled on the rug, and a portrait of himself smiling like an idiot.
He grimaced.So that's the reputation I have to work with.
A memory surfaced—not his, but the original Li Yun's. It crashed into his thoughts like a wave.
– A duel in the courtyard. Laughter.– A sword slipping from trembling hands.– A girl's voice: "You're not even worth scolding."– Booze. Brothels. More laughter.– His grandfather's disappointed eyes.
Pathetic.Li Yun of Earth would've killed a dozen men with chopsticks in the time this fool took to lift a blade.
Yet, something pulsed within him.
His gaze shifted to the small shrine in the corner of the room — simple, unadorned. A dusty incense stick lay before an aged portrait of a woman: serene, eyes full of warmth.
His mother. The original Li Yun's real mother.
He stood and approached the shrine slowly.
There, beside the incense dish, lay a rusted iron ring. Dull. Plain. Unpolished. It looked nothing like the glowing artifact that opened an eye before devouring his soul.
And yet…
As his fingers brushed it, a jolt surged up his arm.
The ring leapt from the altar and fused itself onto his finger with a soft click.
Then silence.
No glow. No sound. Just the faint weight of the ring on his finger.
"...Nothing?"
But he could feel it now — like a sleeping beast coiled in his soul. Watching. Waiting.
Then, faintly, a voice whispered through his mind.
"You are bound. Prove yourself worthy."
Li Yun raised an eyebrow.
"You want proof?" he whispered. "Fine."
He sat cross-legged on the floor, steadying his breath. His past life had taught him how to control his body and mind — from sniper calm to nerve-deadening meditation.
Now, he turned that focus inward.
Inhale.Exhale.Sink.
The world fell away.
A faint golden thread glimmered in the darkness behind his eyes — his qi. Weak, but there.
He reached toward it, steady and sure.
Then, he pulled.
The ring pulsed.
BOOM.
A shockwave of spiritual energy erupted inside him. The iron ring ignited with light, and his soul felt like it was being torn apart, reshaped, reforged.
His body convulsed once. Twice.
He gasped.
Then, silence.
And clarity.
Martial Disciple — Level 1.
Li Yun opened his eyes.
His vision sharpened. His limbs felt lighter. The world had gained a strange stillness, as if all distractions had been pushed away.
He looked at the ring. It had gone still again.
A grin tugged at his lips.
So it begins.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
"Young Master, the steward requests your presence in the garden. The General will return by sundown."
Li Yun's eyes narrowed.
His father. The Iron General.Returning after months away…And someone was already trying to set the stage.
Politics.
He rose, slipping a new robe over his frame.
Time to play the fool again.
For now.