Lin Xuan's life was as plain as boiled water.
An orphan without a background, without connections, and definitely without luck. He studied by day and worked part-time jobs by night. Rent, tuition, food—everything he had, he earned himself. There were no weekend gatherings, no friends to chat with, no love interests. Only textbooks, uniforms, and the cold silence of a single dorm room.
His entire world was survival. Dreaming was a luxury he couldn't afford.
That morning, even his alarm clock gave up on him.
By the time he woke up, the sun was already glaring through the window. Twenty minutes late. No time to shower, no time to eat. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed the first two pieces of bread he could find—one slightly stale—and ran out with mismatched socks and a lopsided bag.
It should've ended there.
But fate had other plans.
As he passed under a tree near campus, a fat pigeon—blessed with unnatural aim—chose that exact moment to drop a gift from the heavens.
Splat.
Warm, sticky goo landed right on his head, dripping down his ear and soaking into his collar.
Lin Xuan froze mid-step.
"…Seriously?"
Half a bottle of mineral water and a few leaves later, he was marginally cleaner, but the smell stuck around like bad karma. The day spiraled from there.
A loose shoelace tripped him into a puddle. A delivery guy crashed into him and scattered his class notes across the street. Then, during lunch, the cafeteria auntie coldly informed him that the system rejected his student card.
He ended up crouching behind the dorm, eating instant noodles dry because someone had stolen the last hot water packet. Even the plastic fork snapped halfway through.
If misery had a face, it would've been his.
Still, he chuckled bitterly. "Guess it can't get any worse."
He really shouldn't have said that.
Late at night, after finishing another long shift at a convenience store, Lin Xuan was heading back to his dorm. The streets were quiet, the kind of silence that made you feel like the world had already forgotten you existed.
That's when he saw it—a chubby little dog waddling into the middle of the road, barking at a floating plastic bag like it had just discovered an alien lifeform.
Then came the headlights.
Lin Xuan didn't think. He jumped.
The dog lived.
He didn't.
In the final moment, lying beneath the glow of streetlamps and the screech of tires, Lin Xuan stared up at the night sky.
"…Figures," he muttered.
Everything went black.
Darkness wrapped around him like an old, familiar coat. There was no pain. No light. Only silence... and the faint sensation of falling—deeper, deeper—until even the concept of self began to blur.
Somewhere beyond that fading consciousness, the universe held its breath.
___
Everything has its end.
Even the universe.
When the final star dimmed, when time folded in on itself and space shattered like brittle glass, the great cycle turned once more. The universe was not destroyed—only reset. And in that fleeting moment, when all of creation was stripped to its bare essence, the ancient laws that governed all existence began to stir.
Space.
Time.
Reincarnation.
Three supreme principles. Eternal and absolute. Normally, they flowed in parallel—never touching, never disturbing one another. But at the edge of the cycle's end, for the briefest moment... they collided.
Was it a flaw?
A coincidence?
No one knows.
From that unimaginable collision, something was born. Not an artifact. Not a will. But a Rune— forged from the very fabric of existence. It held no thought, no purpose. It was neither treasure nor weapon. It simply was.
A primordial rune, formed at the origin point where space, time, and reincarnation converged.
It drifted endlessly, hidden in the void between realms, waiting for... something. It didn't understand what. It didn't need to. The laws embedded within it sought only resonance.
Epochs passed.
Worlds rose and fell.
The rune slept.
Until one day—far below in a forgotten corner of the lower realms—a soul stirred.
A soul that had passed through death, entered reincarnation, and by sheer accident, had unknowingly twisted time itself in the process. A rare anomaly. A spark of resonance.
The Rune awakened.
For the first time since the dawn of creation, it moved.
That soul belonged to a young man named Lin Xuan. A mortal. Unconscious, unaware, and drifting in the great river of reincarnation, helpless as fate dragged him toward a new world.
He didn't know. He couldn't feel it.
But as his soul passed through the invisible threshold between life and death, the Rune descended like a falling star. There was no resistance. No struggle. It merged into him silently—naturally. As if it had always belonged there.
A cosmic mark, born from the collapse of creation itself, now engraved onto a human soul.
It held no intelligence. No guidance.
But its very presence twisted fate.
Warped karma.
Defied logic.
The child who should have been ordinary would awaken with an innate connection to the laws that even most deities dared not touch.
Space.
Time.
Reincarnation.
And thus, the wheel began to turn again.
A storm was coming.
And it all began... with a boy who died saving a dog.
___
The vast Xiaotian Continent was divided into five distinct domains, each marked by its own unique environment and the challenges it held.
At its heart lay the Heaven Heart Domain, the richest and most resourceful region. Ancient clans and powerful sects had long established their strongholds here. Cultivators from every corner of the continent journeyed to this domain, drawn by promises of fortune and power—yet many who came unprepared soon discovered that danger lurked behind every opportunity.
To the south stretched the Crimson Martial Domain, a land scarred by rivers of molten lava and towering volcanoes. Its cultivators were famed for their fiery tempers and unmatched skill in flame path techniques. Here, fire-element sects thrived, and the very earth pulsed with burning energy.
In stark contrast, the Azure Spirit Domain lay to the east—a realm of mystic springs and spirit rivers, where ethereal forests stretched as far as the eye could see. This domain was ruled by spiritual beasts and the skilled beast tamers who had forged bonds with them, their presence lending the land an otherworldly grace.
Far to the north lay the Frostmoon Domain, locked in eternal winter. Glacial mountains rose over mirrored ice lakes, and the biting cold seeped deep into the bones of all who dwelled there. Ice-element cultivators and frost beasts thrived in this frozen wilderness, their powers as unyielding as the unforgiving landscape itself.
Finally, to the west, the Nameless Void Domain—once prosperous, now shattered by endless wars. Time and space twisted unpredictably within its borders, warping reality and turning the domain into a place even the strongest cultivators dared not explore. Many who ventured in were lost forever, swallowed by the void's merciless embrace.
In the Xiaotian Continent, strength is everything. The strong are revered, while the weak are nothing more than prey. Here, cultivation reigns supreme, and the path to power is paved with blood, ambition, and countless trials.
The cultivation system is divided into ten major realms: Qi Condensation, Foundation Establishment, Spirit Gathering, Core Formation, Nascent Soul, Soul Formation, Dao Foundation, Law Manifestation Realm, Tribulation Realm and the peak—Half-Step Ascendant.
It is said that beyond the Half-Step Ascendant lies the legendary Ascendant Realm. Stepping into it means breaking the shackles of the mortal world, ascending to a higher plane, and gaining true immortality. But for tens of thousands of years, not a single cultivator has crossed that final threshold.
The world itself seems to resist ascension—as if the heavens are watching, waiting, and refusing to open the gate.
Everything in the Xiaotian Continent continued as it always had—sect wars flared and faded, geniuses rose and fell, and the strong trampled the weak without pause. But today, amidst the turning of the eternal cycle, a wandering soul was born.
A soul that would shatter the continent's balance.
A soul destined to stir the heavens, disrupt the calm, and carve its name into the bones of history.
From this day forward, the Xiaotian Continent would never know peace again.