A/N – Poem of the Day:
I walked my path by my own flame,
Defied the heavens, unbound by name.
Even in death, I shall not fall—
For I have lived, and that is all.
--
All of a sudden, an overwhelming pressure pressed against Zhou Chénhao entire being—squeezing, twisting, forcing him toward a blinding light.
It felt like being crushed through an immense pressure of the deepest part of the water sea. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe— only feel the slow, painful push forward. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the darkness shattered into brilliance.
His eyes burned. Unfamiliar voices echoed around him— cheers, hurried word in a language that he barely understand.
When his vision finally adjusted, he saw a round-faced woman staring at him with a look of worry and relief. Her hands, enormous from his tiny perspective, gently pressed against his chest.
Her palm… could cover his whole body.
'What the hell is happening—?!'
Before he could finish the thought, the woman turned him over and gave his bottom a light slap.
A sharp sting ran through him.
'Ow! What the hell was that for?!'
But what came out of his mouth was not a protest—only a piercing cry.
The tension in the room instantly softened. Smiles spread across the faces of the people present, and the fat woman carefully handed him to a pale yet beautiful woman lying on an old-fashioned bed.
"It's a boy, my lady," the woman said warmly.
He didn't understand a word, but the young man inside that newborn body didn't need to. The truth dawned on him like thunder.
'Did I… really reincarnate?!'
Before he could even process the thought, the beautiful woman cradling him gently uncovered her chest.
'Wait—what are you—?!'
Too late. Warm milk filled his mouth, and a wave of dizziness consumed him.
"I will name you Yuan," the woman murmured softly. "Yes… Shen Yuan. It's a good name."
Through half-lidded eyes, he looked up at her face—long black hair cascading over her shoulders, delicate brows, and ice-blue eyes that shimmered like frost under sunlight. Her robe was elegant, noble, yet simple in its beauty.
'So this is my new mother… Shen Yuan, huh? Not bad.'
The door creaked open.
A tall man with long black hair tied neatly behind him stepped inside. His expression was stern, his presence commanding. Even the maids instinctively bowed their heads as he walked past them.
"Mei, let me see the child," the man said in a deep, steady tone.
Without hesitation, he took the infant from her arms, holding him up to the light. Shen Yuan's tiny eyes met his father's sharp gaze.
The man studied him carefully. "Hmm. Pale and a little frail, but there's wit behind those eyes. I can sense his spiritual roots—good aptitude for cultivation. When he turns fifteen, he may rival his elder brothers. Perhaps he'll even become a core disciple of the Radiant Sword Pavilion. You've done well, Mei."
He handed the child back and turned to leave.
"My lord…" Mei's voice trembled slightly. "He's your son. Shouldn't you at least let him choose what kind of life he wants to live?"
The man paused at the doorway, his back still facing her.
"What is there to choose?" Shen Tian replied calmly. "He is my child. Naturally, he will become a powerful cultivator. Even if he's not in line to inherit the patriarch's seat, he'll surely earn his place among the Pavilion's core disciples."
And without another word, he left.
The door closed softly, leaving silence in his wake.
Mei lowered her head, her tears falling onto the newborn in her arms. She held him tightly, whispering something he couldn't understand.
Shen Yuan—formerly Zhou Chénhao—stared at the closed door through heavy eyelids.
'So this family isn't as simple as it looks… I'll need to learn this world's language quickly, so I can gain information while I'm still a kid.'
With that thought, his small eyes fluttered shut. The warmth of his mother's embrace wrapped around him, and his first dream in a new world began.