Darkness.
Not emptiness—but a dense, oppressive dark, heavy with fractured glimmers of light.
Lin Wan's consciousness drifted within it. Eighteen years of memories belonging to Lin Wan collided with the ten-thousand-year remnants of Xuanji Zi. Two currents of different colors roared through her sea of awareness, crashing, intertwining, slowly merging.
She saw—
Ten thousand years ago, the Xuanji Palace suspended above the Ninth Heavens. Clouds formed its eaves; stars paved its paths. She—Xuanji Zi—stood robed in plain white upon the Enlightenment Terrace, expounding the Dao. Below, thousands of disciples listened in reverent silence, their collective destiny rising like a canopy of radiance above the sect.
She saw Xiao Chen—before he became the Demon Sovereign of the Nine Hells. They had once explored secret realms together, debated the Great Dao over wine, sworn brotherhood beneath constellations. His laughter had been bright. His gaze clear.
Then—
A night without moon or star.
He came bearing wine.
Poison in the cup.
A Soul-Devouring Nail of the Nine Hells driven into her back.
And that face—twisted, unfamiliar.
"Xuanji, do not blame me. Your Dao. Your sect's destiny. This Chaos Body nearing perfection… I will take them all."
Betrayal struck without omen.
With her final divine strength, she sealed her life's cultivation and her obsession to protect the sect within her natal treasure—the Fate Chart. From her indestructible true spirit and a sliver of primordial Chaos origin, she forged an "Immortal Bone," a coordinate for rebirth, casting it into the cycle of reincarnation.
The greater part of her soul was devoured—consumed by Xiao Chen's madness and the backlash of Heaven's Law.
Memory fractured.
Endless darkness followed.
Until eighteen years ago, when a girl was born into the Lin family, an affiliate clan of Tianyan Sect. Deep within her spine, a trace of Chaos light lay hidden.
She was Lin Wan.
She was also the remnant true spirit of Xuanji Zi—after millennia of drifting—finally anchoring itself in mortal flesh.
"So… this is how it was."
Beneath the cliff's cold rock face, Lin Wan opened her eyes.
The fear of an eighteen-year-old girl had receded. In its place lay something ancient—deep, glacial, edged with authority. At times, the old majesty of Xuanji Zi surfaced, only to be subdued by Lin Wan's present will.
She was still weak. Yet a faint warmth flowed within her—feedback from the Fate Chart, and the spiritual essence unconsciously siphoned from Gu Xuan and Lin Qingyao. Meager, but stubborn enough to sustain life.
She flexed her fingers.
Stronger—by a fraction.
Memory brought more than recollection. It awakened instinct.
Though her spiritual roots were shattered and meridians severed, Xuanji Zi's comprehension of heaven and earth was etched into her true spirit. She now saw the world differently.
At the bottom of the Burial Immortal Cliff, spiritual energy was thin and corrupted by miasma and deathly aura. To ordinary cultivators it was a place of absolute desolation.
But she discerned subtleties.
Three paces left—a fissure exhaled faint water vapor laced with fragile vitality.
Ahead—a patch of black moss concealed threads of wood essence.
Above—a stalactite gathered diluted stone milk over decades.
To others, negligible.
To her—life.
She adjusted her breathing according to a primitive rhythm buried in memory: a simplified form of the Return-to-Origin Breathing Art, created by Xuanji Zi in her youth for the Chaos Body.
Slow.
Measured.
Her broken body, craving survival, resonated with that rhythm. The sparse beneficial currents stirred—barely—drifting toward her.
A cool thread touched her cracked lips.
A whisper of wood essence seeped into her skin.
Infinitesimal.
But real.
Within her consciousness, the illusory Fate Chart trembled.
Host resonance with heaven and earth detected.
Return-to-Origin Breathing Art compatibility increased.
Passive restoration efficiency +0.001%.
Sect-destiny linkage stabilized.
It works.
Her greatest reliance was no longer hope—but memory.
She examined the Fate Chart.
Vast. Mostly shrouded in mist. One illuminated region overlapped with Tianyan Sect's territory. Countless motes of light drifted within—disciples. Some bright. Some dim.
Two shone fiercely.
Both radiated hostility toward her.
Gu Xuan.
Lin Qingyao.
Their lights slowly expanded as they cultivated. Around them, nearly imperceptible particles of dissipated spiritual energy were peeled away, crossing distance, absorbed by the Fate Chart, transformed into warmth within her body.
Irony.
The deeper their hatred, the more efficiently their power fed her survival.
"Cultivate diligently," she murmured, lips pale. "The stronger you grow… the faster I return."
Time crawled.
Wounds crusted. Internal bleeding ceased. Bones, barely held together, avoided necrosis beneath the chart's influence. Her dantian and roots remained ruins.
The body fragile.
The will—hardened steel.
Lin Wan's resentment fused with Xuanji Zi's composure. What emerged was something new—cold patience, coiled like a serpent in abyssal dark.
Then—
A fluctuation within the Fate Chart.
Core disciple Gu Xuan has advanced to Foundation Peak.
Additional spiritual dissipation absorbed.
A stronger current flooded her veins.
Soon after—
Inner disciple Lin Qingyao has successfully fused the pseudo-Chaos Immortal Bone.
Root reconstruction complete. Advancement to Foundation stage achieved.
Minor rejection detected between pseudo-bone and sect destiny.
Special Chaos trace absorbed.
A purer warmth surged—carrying a whisper of primordial familiarity.
Lin Wan understood.
They had taken only the shell—the key's casing—not the true Chaos core. The false bone would never perfectly harmonize with sect destiny.
Their triumph concealed corrosion.
She laughed softly. It echoed cold against the stone.
"Enjoy it, Qingyao… if you can bear it."
Strength gathered.
She withdrew a simple ring from within her tattered robes—her mother's keepsake. Mundane to outward sight.
She bit her finger. A bead of blood fell upon the metal. With it, she poured longing, grief, vengeance, and the will to live.
The blood vanished.
A faint bond formed.
Enough.
A reminder of who she was. Of what must be done.
She fixed her gaze once more upon the two brilliant lights within the Fate Chart.
Gu Xuan.
Lin Qingyao.
And Tianyan Sect itself.
The naïve Lin Wan had died upon this cliff.
What remained was Xuanji Zi reborn.
First—survive.
Second—recover even a sliver of power.
Third—return.
The abyss remained silent.
But in the darkness, a pair of eyes burned—
like embers buried in ash, awaiting the wind that would set the world aflame.