Night settled over the city like a slow-descending curtain. The last streaks of sunset faded from the sky, replaced by the pulsing rhythm of streetlights and distant car horns. The Long family villa glowed softly under its garden lamps, a small island of peace in a sea of quiet danger.
Inside his room, Long Xingchen stood in silence, head tilted slightly as if listening to something beyond the walls. The house seemed calm. His mother hummed a song in the kitchen. His sister laughed as she scrolled through her phone. His father spoke softly into the study landline.
But beneath that calm… something moved.
A ripple.
A subtle shift in the air.
A faint tremor in the threads of fate.
He felt it the way others felt humidity before rain—the pressure of an approaching storm.
He closed his eyes and let his senses spread outward, slowly, carefully.
Five kilometers.
Seven.
Ten.
Vehicles. Pedestrians. Dogs barking. Music leaking from open windows. Young lovers arguing outside a convenience store. A scooter buzzing down the street. Nothing unusual. Nothing threatening.
But then—
A heartbeat.
Steady, controlled, too even.
A trained operative lingering near the villa's southern boundary, pretending to smoke a cigarette. A faint reflection glinted from something metallic under his jacket—likely a small camera. His breathing rhythm was too disciplined for a normal man.
Xingchen sighed softly.
The Qin family was testing him.
Probing the edges.
Measuring, calculating, waiting for a mistake.
They didn't understand the kind of man he had become.
He could sense another watcher near the intersection—a tall figure leaning against a lamp post, pretending to be engrossed in his phone. But the man's aura twitched with tiny spikes of alertness whenever a car passed.
Another watcher hid on a rooftop opposite the villa, crouched beside an AC vent. He wasn't even pretending to be casual—he was armed, nervous, watching the villa through binoculars.
Three watchers.
All clumsy compared to the assassins of the ancient world.
"Too many eyes," Xingchen murmured.
The system hummed faintly in the back of his mind.
> [Recommendation: Neutralize threats or misdirect surveillance.]
He didn't need the suggestion.
He already had a plan.
He walked to his desk drawer and retrieved a small black device—just a normal smartphone, though its software was anything but normal. The cybersecurity team he hired had installed silent tools inside it: spoofing protocols, GPS ghosts, communication jammers. He turned it on and placed it gently by the window.
The phone sent out a single, invisible pulse.
Outside, the watchers reacted instantly.
The rooftop operative's radio crackled.
The lamppost watcher straightened.
The smoker tossed his cigarette and moved toward the street.
Xingchen smiled faintly.
"Follow the bait."
He opened his window, letting in the cool night air. Then he used his mortal-but-enhanced body to step onto the balcony railing and, with a silent motion, leaped off the side of the villa.
No thud.
No sound.
He landed lightly like a shadow folding into itself.
He moved along the side path, staying beyond the range of the security cameras. His footsteps made no noise on the gravel. When he reached the corner of the garden, he paused just behind a tall bush.
Three operatives converged on the source of the pulse—the upstairs window of his room.
One of them whispered, "He moved. Maybe he left the house."
Another responded, "Command says maintain visual. Don't engage."
They thought he was still inside.
He stepped out of the shadow.
"You're all looking in the wrong direction."
The three men tensed instantly, hands darting to hidden weapons.
Xingchen didn't give them time to draw.
He flicked his fingers.
A faint gust of pressure slammed into one operative's wrist, knocking the weapon clean out of his hand.
The second lunged forward. Xingchen sidestepped him with the fluid grace of a dancer who had memorized the rhythm of battle over lifetimes. One palm strike landed gently on the operative's chest.
He flew backward five meters.
The third man didn't even get to move. Xingchen appeared behind him, tapped the back of his neck with two fingers, and the man collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Three bodies.
No injuries serious enough to kill.
Just temporary unconsciousness.
He stepped over them, calm as moonlight.
"Tell your masters," he whispered to the night. "If you send children to hunt a dragon… don't be surprised when they don't return."
He returned inside the villa without being seen, closing his window quietly.
As he sat on the edge of his bed, the system chimed.
> [Threat neutralized.]
[Surveillance disrupted.]
[Energy levels stable. Cooldown: 7 days 14 hours.]
Seven and a half days remaining before he could step back into the past.
He lay back against the pillows, letting the night breathe around him. His phone vibrated suddenly on the desk.
A message.
From Lin Yuerou.
Xingchen… I had a bad feeling today. I know it sounds crazy, but… something is coming, isn't it?
His heart tightened.
She had always been sensitive. Not in a supernatural way—just in the quiet, instinctive way of people who carried big hearts. She sensed danger before it touched her. But in his first life, she sensed it too late.
He typed slowly.
Yes. Something is coming. But I won't let it touch you.
A pause.
Yuerou:
Then… stay safe, okay? Don't disappear on me.
He exhaled.
I won't.
He put the phone aside and closed his eyes.
But rest didn't come.
The fragment pulsed suddenly in his soul.
Warm.
Soft.
Then sharp.
He sat upright as a vision tore through him again.
The sky burned orange and gold.
A city of jade spires shimmered in the distance.
Massive floating platforms circled a mountain throne.
Ancient cultivators flew like streaks of light.
The air was thick with divine energy—heavy enough to smother a mortal.
He stood in the middle of a marketplace lined with glowing lanterns. Merchants shouted prices. Children ran laughing between stalls. The scent of roasted spirit beast meat drifted through the air.
This was millions of years before the collapse.
Alive.
Vibrant.
Flawless.
A woman appeared beside him.
Her hair long and dark, eyes deep as starlight.
The same woman from the ruins.
She whispered without looking at him.
"Traveler… you walk the wrong way."
He tried to speak, but his voice didn't carry.
She continued:
"Beware the sky. It watches. It remembers."
Then she turned, raised a hand, and pointed at something behind him.
He turned—
The sky cracked.
A hairline fracture.
Tiny.
Barely visible.
He reached for it—
The vision collapsed.
He jolted awake in his bed, chest heaving.
The system spoke directly into his thoughts.
> [Warning: The erased force attempted to observe Host through the fragment.]
[Host's soul shield resisted 93%.]
[7% exposure. Minimal risk, but increasing.]
Xingchen ran a hand through his hair.
An ancient force that consumed worlds… trying to see him.
"Not yet," he whispered. "You'll get your chance when I'm ready."
He stood and stretched, then went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. The mirror reflected a teenager, but the eyes belonged to someone who had outlived worlds.
He went downstairs and found his father in the study again, staring at a folder.
"What's wrong?" Xingchen asked.
His father looked up slowly.
"Someone leaked our project blueprint. One of our contracts is compromised."
"How bad?"
"Very bad." Long Tianhai's voice was quiet. "If the Qin family gets their hands on this… they can bleed us dry."
Xingchen took the folder calmly.
"I'll fix it."
His father stared at him. "Xingchen… sometimes adults can't even fix these things."
"Then let a demon fix it," Xingchen said quietly.
Long Tianhai blinked, startled. "A demon? What—"
Xingchen walked past him.
"Dad. Just trust me."
In his room, he took out his encrypted laptop and opened the cyberteam feed. His fingers tapped across the keyboard. Data streams flickered. IP traces pulsed. Code unfolded in silent waves.
He found the leak.
A man in the company.
Bought off.
Tempted.
Afraid.
"Stupid," Xingchen muttered.
He made a call.
An hour later, the leak disappeared.
The traitor resigned voluntarily.
And the Qin family's information pipeline dried up.
They would retaliate.
He would retaliate harder.
The next days slid by in a blur of training, planning, and protection.
He trained his body relentlessly.
Every night, the Heaven-Defying Body Refining Technique reshaped him.
His bones strengthened.
His senses sharpened.
His endurance grew.
He spent hours with Lin Yuerou, shielding her from danger she didn't know moved around her. Sometimes he held her hand as they walked near the basketball courts. Sometimes they sat quietly under the school's old tree. Her presence reminded him why he fought.
He strengthened his father's business security.
He set traps around the Qin family's operatives.
He misdirected their intel networks.
He gathered silent allies.
He moved through the city like a ghost, shaping the world around him without leaving a footprint.
On the seventh night, he stood on the villa balcony again.
The wind brushed past him gently.
His heart felt still.
He could almost hear the ticking of the countdown.
"Seven days…" he murmured.
The system chimed softly.
> [Correction: 6 days 23 hours.]
[Next travel anchor location locked.]
[Transmission point: Ancient Era — 980,000 years Before Collapse.]
[Era Condition: Stable, Pre-war, High energy.]
Xingchen inhaled deeply.
Soon.
He would step into a world untouched by catastrophe.
A world where cultivators soared like gods.
A world with answers buried beneath its perfect sky.
He opened his eyes.
"Six days," he whispered. "Then I come for the truth."
The night wind carried his vow into the darkness.