The air in the Burial Peak was thick with the stench of stagnant Qi and old blood. Han Lin stood at the edge of the jagged precipice; his long hair matted with the dust of three centuries. His robes, once vibrant sect silks, were now nothing but grey rags clinging to a frame that was more bone than flesh.
He stared at the swirling grey abyss below.
'Three hundred years,' Han Lin thought, his eyes bloodshot and twitching. 'Three hundred years of crawling through filth, slaughtering brothers, and burning my own foundation... and for what? A mortal's expiration date?'
He let out a jagged, rattling laugh that echoed off the canyon walls. He looked insane, his fingers digging into his own scalp until the skin broke.
"The records were clear," Han Lin muttered, his voice a dry rasp. "The Great Dao is a cycle. To truly jump the cycle, one cannot simply climb the stairs. You have to break the staircase."
He took a step closer to the edge. The wind tore at him, threatening to push him over, but he stood firm, his obsession acting as a physical anchor. He looked up at the sky, his blue eyes filled with a searing, venomous hatred for the Heavens that had denied him eternal life.
"The only way I can get immortality is if I kill myself," he whispered, a terrifying grin spreading across his face. "I will die as a failure, but my soul is too heavy with forbidden scripts to dissipate. I will shed this rotting skin. I will awaken as an immortal being. I will... I must."
Han Lin stood over the drop. For a split second, his breath hitched. 300 years of survival instinct screamed at him to step back. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. This was death. Absolute, final death if the scrolls were wrong.
He stared into the dark. Then, he forced his trembling legs still.
'If I stay here, I die in a century. If I jump, I live forever.'
Han Lin didn't hesitate any longer. He didn't look back at the world that had rejected his pursuit. He threw himself into the abyss.
Light.
It wasn't the cold darkness of the grave. It was warm, blinding, and smelled of sandalwood.
Han Lin's eyes snapped open. He didn't just sit up—he surged upward, his breath gasping as if he'd been underwater for years. He grabbed his chest, feeling the frantic, powerful thrum of a young heart.
He looked at his hands. They weren't the grey, withered claws of the Burial Peak. They were smooth. They were full of blood.
'I... I did it?'
He scrambled out of the bed, his movements messy and uncoordinated as he adjusted to the sudden weight of a healthy body. He stumbled toward a bronze mirror in the corner and gripped the edges so hard the metal groaned.
The reflection showed a young man with long, white hair and two piercing blue eyes. Han Lin stared at himself, his reflection's mouth falling open in a look of pure, manic triumph.
"I'm back," he whispered, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate joy. "I'm eighteen. I'm actually eighteen!"
He began to laugh, a deep, shaking sound that started in his gut. He touched his face, his neck, his pulse. He was shaking with excitement so intense it felt like his soul was going to tear the skin. 300 years of failure had just been erased in a single heartbeat.
'The Heavenly Dao tried to grind me down for three centuries,' Han Lin thought, his eyes glowing with a predatory light. 'But I found the loophole. I broke the cycle. I am the only variable in this entire world that the Heavens didn't account for!'
A loud bang shook the room as the door was kicked open. A young man in flamboyant silks stepped in, flanked by two guards. This was Han Feng.
"Still hiding in here, Han Lin?" Han Feng sneered. "The Patriarch is tired of your laziness. Get to the courtyard before I have the guards drag you there by your hair."
Han Lin turned slowly. The laughter died down, replaced by a cold, sharp focus. He looked at Han Feng—this little "genius" who thought he was a threat.
'Level 4 Qi Condensation,' Han Lin noted, his mind moving with the speed of a 300-year-old master. 'He thinks he's a lion because he's surrounded by sheep. He has no idea he's standing in front of a monster who just crawled out of hell.'
"Are you speaking to me?" Han Lin asked.
His voice wasn't just quiet; it held a vibration of suppressed power that made the air in the room feel heavy.
"Who else would I be talking to, you waste?" Han Feng spat, though he stepped back instinctively, unnerved by the look in Han Lin's eyes. "The Spirit Root testing starts in ten minutes. If you fail to show up, you're being kicked out of the Azure Cloud Sect."
'Azure Cloud. This backwater sect,' Han Lin thought.
He walked toward the door. As he passed Han Feng, he stopped for a fraction of a second. The excitement from his rebirth was still humming under his skin, making him feel like he could tear the roof off the building.
"Testing," Han Lin said, a thin, dangerous smile appearing. "Yes. Let's go and see what the Heavens have to say about my 'talent' this time."
He walked out, his stride long and confident.
'I'll give them a Grade 1 result,' Han Lin planned as he headed for the courtyard. 'Let them laugh. Let them think I'm weak. While they sleep, I will use every forbidden secret I know to turn this body into an indestructible god. This time, I'm not stopping until the universe itself bows to me.'