"Damn it, I actually feel pain. Could it be I'm not dead?" Ling Xiao slowly opened his eyes and groaned softly.
"Xiao'er, you're awake. You nearly killed me with worry," a woman dressed plainly yet gracefully said, wiping away tears as she stroked Ling Xiao's face.
"What... what's going on? I mean, I'm into mature women, but this feels..." Ling Xiao's thoughts trailed off as a sharp pang of pain shot through his head. A flood of hazy memories surged into his consciousness.
Seeing Ling Xiao's dazed expression, the woman urgently clasped his hand, her voice filled with concern. "Xiao'er, Xiao'er, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Don't scare your mother."
"No, no, Mother, I... I'm fine now," Ling Xiao managed to reply hoarsely.
Mani, I've actually traveled through time!
Ling Xiao finally realized he was no longer on Earth, but had traveled to this world called the Xuanling Continent. He had fought the four supreme masters of the Ghost Gate, ultimately self-detonating his dantian and dying completely. Yet, his luck had been surprisingly good—he had reincarnated. The woman before him was Meng Xiyun, the mother of his current body.
Meng Xiyun gazed at Ling Xiao with heartache. "As long as you're okay, please don't practice martial arts anymore. It only leads to them bullying you. Seeing both you and your father like this... it breaks my heart!"
"Alright, I'll listen to you, Mother. Could you step out for a moment? I feel exhausted and need more rest," Ling Xiao managed a strained smile.
"Very well, Mother won't disturb you. Sleep a little longer. I'll fetch your medicinal herbs." Meng Xiyun wiped away tears, nodded, tucked the blankets around Ling Xiao, then quietly closed the door behind her.
Ling Xiao had deliberately sent Meng Xiyun away to sort through the chaotic memories in his mind.
An hour later, Ling Xiao opened his closed eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Things are better than I imagined. At least I'm still alive."
Ling Xiao sorted through the memories of this original body, realizing he had been reborn into the body of a Ling Xiao from the Ling family in Meteorite City—a boy sharing his name. As for why he had sought out this body? Perhaps it was simply fate, as the saying goes: "It was destined from the very beginning."
The original Ling Xiao had been the most outstanding cultivation prodigy of the Ling family's eighteenth generation. At fifteen, he had broken through the Xuan Practitioner stage to become a low-tier Xuan Master, earning the title of Meteorite City's foremost genius.
Yet, as the saying goes: "The tallest tree catches the most wind!"
Shortly after Ling Xiao attained Xuan Shi status, he was ambushed and had his meridians destroyed. From the most celebrated Xuan Shi, he was reduced to an ordinary commoner, not even qualifying as a martial disciple. Thus, the title of top prodigy transformed into that of a worthless废材, worse than a commoner.
In a world where martial prowess reigned supreme, and within the Ling family—Meteorite City's foremost clan—being unable to cultivate martial arts sealed his fate: a life destined to fade into mediocrity.
Yet Ling Xiao possessed an indomitable spirit. He began his cultivation anew, but after two years, his efforts yielded no results. During this time, he endured the scorn and ridicule of his peers within the Ling family, swallowing his pride and remaining unmoved.
Then, two days ago, Ling Rui—grandson of the Ling family's Fifth Elder—uttered taunts directed at Ling Xiao, culminating in an insult to his parents. Though Ling Xiao might endure ridicule himself, he could not tolerate anyone dishonoring his parents. Filled with rage, he struck at Ling Rui. Yet, with his cultivation completely crippled, he was no match for Ling Jian, a low-tier Xuan practitioner. Ling Rui beat him half to death on the spot.
This led to the scene of Ling Xiao lying in bed!
...
"A world of the strong? That suits me perfectly!" Ling Xiao declared confidently, his eyes gleaming. He climbed out of bed, feeling the frailty of his own body. He touched the fatal blow to the back of his head—a large, still-swollen lump remained.
"I'll avenge your wrongs," Ling Xiao sighed, then began surveying his surroundings.
The room was fairly spacious, though sparsely furnished. Aside from a five-foot bed, there were a few chairs and a coffee table. The most conspicuous item was the wooden桩 in the corner—a stark reminder of how diligently the original "Ling Xiao" had trained, though to no avail.
"Creak." The door swung open. This time, a disheveled middle-aged man entered. He appeared to be around thirty-seven, with sharp, defined features, a high, straight nose, and eyes that were dull and lifeless. He wore a gray robe and clutched a wine bottle in his hand. In a previous life, this image might have belonged to a typical heartthrob, but in this one, he was merely a thoroughly despondent middle-aged man.
This man was Ling Xiao's father, Ling Zhan—another talent whose meridians had been destroyed. Father and son were famously known in Meteorite City as the "Useless Father and Son."
Over a decade ago, Ling Zhan had been a rare genius in Meteorite City. Though not as exceptionally gifted as Ling Xiao, he had still broken through to the Xuan Scholar stage at eighteen and reached the peak of that tier by twenty-five. He was but a step away from becoming a Spirit Master—one of the city's few supreme experts. Alas, in the prime of his ambitions, he too had fallen victim to a sneak attack that left him crippled. The situation mirrored Ling Xiao's current predicament exactly, making it truly thought-provoking.
Ling Zhan glanced at Ling Xiao, took a swig of wine, and said softly, "How does it feel?"
Ling Xiao looked at his newfound father and replied, "Not dead yet!"
"That's good," Ling Zhan sat down on the edge of the bed. After a pause, he asked, "Want a sip?"
Ling Xiao didn't hesitate, snatching the bottle from Ling Zhan and tilting his head back to take a swig. The fiery burn spread through his limbs, making him let out a soft cry of "Ah!" before gulping down several more mouthfuls.
In his previous life, he'd no stranger to strong liquor—Baijiu, Nüerhong, aged cellar-aged liquors...
Ling Zhan shot his son a complex look before shifting his gaze back to the wooden stake. He remarked flatly, "The saying 'A gentleman strives ceaselessly' holds true, but it doesn't seem to apply to us father and son."
"Father..." Ling Xiao called out awkwardly, a wave of shared emotion surging within him. Memories of two years of exclusion, ridicule, and mockery flooded his mind. It seemed he could now see his father enduring the same trials in his youth.
"Wealth and honor are determined by heaven, Xiao'er. Stop pushing yourself so hard. Your father sees your efforts. I won't blame you," Ling Zhan said, his voice heavy with resignation and sorrow. Back then, he had been so full of vigor and ambition, almost designated as the next clan leader. But fate had turned on him overnight, reducing him to a worthless shell of a man. Seeing his son rise, glimpsing a shadow even stronger than his own youth, had once brought him comfort. Yet history repeated itself, subjecting his son to the same crushing blows. The pain and bitterness in his heart were beyond words!
Ling Xiao didn't respond, only his eyes gradually clouding over with mist. He could feel Meng Xiyun's genuine, heartfelt affection for him, and he could also sense Ling Zhan's silent, unspoken concern.
"What are you two talking about, Xiao'er? I've prepared your medicine. Drink it quickly," Meng Xiyun said as she entered, carrying a bowl of dark, murky liquid. Then, noticing Ling Xiao's unusual state, she asked anxiously, "Xiao'er, why are you crying? Did your father scold you for being lazy again?" With that, Meng Xiyun glared at Ling Zhan indignantly.
"No... Mother, I just... I just rubbed some sand in my eyes. Quickly bring the medicine; I need to drink it," Ling Xiao hurriedly covered up. In his previous life, he hadn't shed a tear since he could remember. Family had always said he was a cheerful child, hence the name "Xiao" (meaning "smile"). Now, on the verge of tears, he refused to admit it—the shame would be unbearable.
After he drank the medicine, Ling Zhan and Meng Xiyun left the room.
Ling Xiao felt his head still throbbing, so he lay down and fell into a deep sleep.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye. Ling Xiao scarcely left his room, focusing instead on piecing together fragments of his memories to adapt to his new identity.
He also examined his body and discovered that all twelve of his main meridians had been shattered. No wonder his two years of arduous cultivation had yielded nothing.
Yet Ling Xiao felt no regret. In his previous life, he had been a martial arts prodigy. His most formidable techniques included Xie Yun's Cloud-Shattering Palm, Nie Feng's Wind God Leg, and Qin Shuang's Heavenly Frost Fist. He had intended to master Xiong Ba's Threefold Return Qi as well, but before he could study it, he had perished alongside the Ghost Gate's four supreme masters. Had he been granted just one more year to cultivate the Threefold Return Qi and master the first technique of the Three Divine Fingers—"Shatter Jade, Split Gold"—he wouldn't have been forced to resort to detonating his dantian in mutual destruction against the Ghost Gate's four supreme masters.
Fortunately, Ling Xiao carried all the memories from his previous life. He had already committed the martial arts manuals—Cloud-Sweeping Palm, Wind God Leg, Heavenly Frost Fist, and others—to heart. He could even execute many of the techniques, though his current frail body couldn't unleash their full power.
Among these martial arts, Ling Xiao cherished the Wind God Leg most. Each strike radiated such flamboyant elegance. With this technique, he had captured the hearts of many senior and junior sisters across various sects—a source of enduring pride.
To establish a foothold in this world where the strong survive, one must rely on formidable strength. Otherwise, one becomes a target for others' bullying and ridicule.
"With the Twelve Primary Meridians crippled, only by re-purifying my marrow, breaking through blockages, and realigning my meridians can I resume cultivation. But here, it's not called internal energy—it's called mystical energy. I wonder what the difference is. Let me test if the Threefold Return to Origin Qi can truly replicate the Shaolin Temple's Marrow-Purifying Sutra?" " Ling Xiao pondered inwardly, simultaneously intending to cultivate the Threefold Return Qi he had never mastered in his previous life. He sought to see if it could restore this crippled body to its former vitality for cultivation.