The apartment was quiet—too quiet.
Leon sat cross-legged on the floor, the single window behind him barely keeping out the chill of the night. A flickering desk lamp cast long shadows across the room. His breathing slowed, his spine straightened, and the stillness around him thickened like mist.
Then, he moved.
A slow exhale. A whisper of Qi. Invisible to the untrained eye, the energy began to circulate through his meridians like molten silver. His blood warmed. His muscles tightened. Bone and flesh began to resonate.
"Stage One: Foundation Molding," he murmured. "Complete."
In his previous life, reaching this stage had taken him two years under the strictest masters. Now, with a body that still held echoes of divine memory, it had taken him two nights.
He unclenched his fists. His fingers left faint imprints on the hardwood floor.
—
He stood, walked to the tiny drawer by his bedside, and pulled it open. Inside lay a jade pendant—cracked down the middle, but still faintly glowing from within.
The moment he touched it, a voice bloomed in his mind.
"Leon… if you ever return, find me in the Valley of Fallen Stars."
It was her.
He closed his eyes.
She had been the light in his old world. The only person who stood beside him when the heavens collapsed and the ground turned to ash. He had loved her—not with the reckless lust of youth, but with the sacred vow of a cultivator's heart.
And he had failed her.
They had come for her first.
This time, he wouldn't be too late.
—
The next morning, Leon walked the hallways of South City High with calm steps. But everywhere he passed, silence followed.
The story had spread like wildfire: Jake Lin—the campus tyrant—had been publicly humiliated and defeated.
More than that, whispers grew stranger by the hour.
"Leon was summoned by government agents."
"No, I heard it was from the military."
"My cousin in Year 5 said he saw a limo pick him up last night."
In the teacher's office, even the faculty lowered their voices when discussing him.
But Leon ignored it all.
He had something else to do.
—
Inside the old equipment shed behind the sports field, Leon stood facing an empty wooden crate. He tapped twice on its side.
A click.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside lay a dusty scroll, wrapped in red silk. It shouldn't have been here—not in this world. Not in this time.
But it was.
"Memory anchors," he said softly. "I hid pieces of my past before the betrayal. Before death."
He unrolled the scroll. Lines of celestial script shimmered faintly in the dim light. His eyes scanned them, lips curling upward.
"So it's true. I wasn't the only one reborn."
—
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting golden fire across the rooftops, a black car pulled up outside the school gate.
Inside sat a man in a gray suit, face expressionless, fingers tapping a silent rhythm on the dashboard.
"She confirmed it," the man said through his earpiece. "He's reawakening."
A pause.
"Yes. I understand."
He hung up, eyes narrowing.
This was no longer just about the Fang family inheritance.
Leon Fang had become a threat.
And soon, everyone would know it.