Sunlight.
Real, warm, spring sunlight.
Li Xiyan gasped as her eyes snapped open. She sat up sharply—too sharply. A jolt of pain lanced through her ribs. Her breath came fast and shallow, her heart pounding as if still in battle.
She looked around wildly.
Not the broken courtyard.
Not the war-torn sect grounds soaked in blood.
Instead: worn wood beams, paper-paneled windows, dust dancing in the light. Her tiny outer sect hut. The room where she had spent years sleeping on straw mats, boiling herbs in a cracked pot, and folding robes for others who never thanked her.
She recognized the little chipped bowl on the table. The crooked brush stand.
And the girl in the copper mirror — younger, thinner, eyes too large for her face — was her.
She was back.
"Ten years… I've gone back ten years."
Her breath caught in her throat.
This was the year before it all began. Before the invasion. Before her death. Before the sect's fall.
She reached inside herself. Her spiritual sea was small but stable. Her meridians — whole. Her cultivation base — meager.
But she was alive.
The heavens had given her a second chance.
Not to earn glory. Not to fight wars.
But to live.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips — quiet, breathless. "You really sent me back," she said, voice still hoarse. "You really let me start over."
She stood slowly, legs weak, and stepped outside.
The outer disciple quarters were quiet at this hour. Birds chirped in the trees. A few early risers scrubbed steps or fetched water. No one looked her way — just as before.
Perfect.
Because she didn't want attention.
Not yet.
This time, she wouldn't beg to be noticed. She wouldn't wait for someone to see her worth.
She would grow silently, like roots beneath the earth. Deep. Steady. Unshakable.
And when the storms came again, this time they would find her standing — not alone, but surrounded by those whose hearts she would gently, quietly change.
But first… she had a fox to save.
She turned toward the back garden behind the medicinal shed — where she remembered an injured spirit beast would collapse that very day, overlooked by everyone else.
A small act of kindness.
A ripple in the water.
And the beginning of everything.