Death was quiet.
No light. No sound. No farewell. Only the certainty that he was gone.
Then came the pain. Sharp and immediate. Familiar.
Fan inhaled. The air was thin and raw, very different from the refined spiritual currents he once controlled. His body twitched on the cold stone beneath him. It was fragile but it obeyed him.
He opened his eyes.
A wooden ceiling. Faded talismans peeling from the walls. The smell of dust and cheap incense.
"This place."
His voice was calm and low. Young, too young.
Li Fan sat up slowly. No backlash. No instability. No injury. Only one truth. He was back.
Twenty years younger. Sixteen years old. Untrained. The version of himself that had failed, trusted too easily, and died.
He rose and looked into the cracked mirror beside the door.
A thin, unremarkable face stared back. Dormant meridians. A body untouched by cultivation. Yet inside that body was centuries of memory and experience.
He closed his eyes and counted his breaths.
In his first life, he had failed the Azure Root Sect entrance exam by one rank. Wasted years as an outer disciple. Betrayed by people he had trusted. Died alone, erased.
This time, everything would be different.
Li Fan opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp.
No more following the paths of others. No more reckless growth. Every action would be planned, deliberate, and calculated.
Even the sects that betrayed him would be part of his plan.
Even the sects that betrayed him would be part of his plan.
He lifted a finger and traced the dust on the wooden floor. Every speck, every crack, every corner could be used, avoided, or controlled.
A sect. He would build one. Perfect. Untouchable.
The world would not see it coming.
Outside, a bell rang. Low and distant. It reminded him that life moves forward.
Li Fan took a deep breath. His first step. Calculated, deliberate, and invisible.
The game had begun.