Runes/Rifles/Reincarnation

Chaos erupted.

Monsters tore through rebar-reinforced walls, their roars mingling with the deafening staccato of gunfire. Soldiers barked orders over the frantic screams of civilians.

Lieutenant Jin Shu slammed a fresh magazine of Martian Metal ammo into his XM7. Behind him, the sharp, unmistakable click of a pistol slide cut through the chaos. He turned to see a civilian—a man, shaking—clutching a handgun in trembling hands.

“Put that gun down before I put you down,” Jin Shu ordered, his voice hard, calm, cutting through the noise.

The last thing he needed was a panicked civilian firing wildly into his men in these tight, deathtrap hallways.

“H-how will we d-defend ourselves?” the man stammered, his voice cracking.

“You don’t need to defend anything. That’s our job.” Jin Shu tilted his head toward his soldiers stationed at the doorway, their weapons steady, focused. “Besides, the only thing that can kill the Diseased is Martian Metal. You don’t have any of that in that 1911, do you?”

The man blinked, fumbling with the mag release, as though to confirm his ammo. Jin Shu shook his head. There was no time for this.

In a single swift motion, Jin Shu stepped in close, pulled the slide back on the 1911, and stripped the gun from the man’s unsteady grip.

“Hey—!” the man started, half-protest, half-plea. A sharp glare from Jin Shu shut him up faster than a bullet.

Jin Shu dismantled the weapon with practiced ease, tossing the parts into a corner and shoving the useless ammo into a spare pouch on his vest. “Stay out of the way,” he said, already turning back to the fight.

The monsters were closing in, and he had bigger problems to deal with.

Jin Shu tapped the shoulders of his men. “Keep an eye on them. If they try anything stupid… you know what to do.”

“Yessir!” both soldiers echoed without hesitation. The unspoken threat was enough to make the civilians think twice about testing their luck. But Jin Shu knew better than to rely on fear alone. It wasn’t a warning; it was a standing order.

Stepping past the group, he moved into the hallway, his boots crunching over debris. The constant crack of gunfire echoed from just around the far corner, underscored by the guttural howls of the Diseased. This sector was supposed to be cleared. Either the advance battalion missed some stragglers, or their intel had been dead wrong. Either way, this ambush proved that complacency was a mistake.

As Jin Shu rounded the corner, the chaos snapped into focus.

The Diseased—gruesome, pale forms twisted into mockeries of humanity—lumbered through a gaping hole in the wall. They poured into the ruined hotel lobby, their movements erratic but purposeful, like predators who had caught the scent of blood. The building had been a rest point for his platoon—a mistake Jin Shu now regretted. He should have pushed on.

I got too comfortable.

There was no time for self-recrimination. Jin Shu emptied his mind, leveling his XM7 as his finger found the trigger.

Bang!

The silver bullet exploded from the barrel, streaking toward a Diseased just as it leaped at one of his men. It struck true, piercing the creature’s hardened flesh with a wet crunch.

The Diseased staggered mid-lunge, its grotesque body beginning to shimmer as the Martian Metal spread through its form like wildfire. In seconds, the monster’s pallid skin turned to gleaming silver, freezing it into a lifeless statue.

Jin Shu’s eyes scanned the battlefield, his platoon locked in the brutal firefight. No hesitation, no second-guessing. There was only one order in his mind now:

Kill them all.

Lieutenant Jin Shu stood in the heart of a now eerily silent, devastated city. Just moments before the scene of an intense battle. The once major metropolis that should have been bustling with crowds of people now lay silent, like a graveyard. Buildings lay in ruins, streets were covered in debris, and the occasional lifeless body of a fallen civilian marked the path of destruction left by the Diseased.

The smell of gunpowder and smoke hung thick in the air, the acrid taste burning the throat with every inhale. The dull glow of fires, still smoldering from the last firefight, flickered against the cloud-covered night, casting the world in an eerie, red glow.

Behind him, the remnants of his platoon moved like ghosts. Some limped on shattered legs, others cradled mangled arms. Their bodies were battered, their spirits frayed, but their will to survive burned on—just barely.

They had been ambushed by the Diseased—gruesome, misshapen, and seemingly unkillable monsters born from a plague unleashed by an alien ship. The monsters' resilience was terrifying, and only the Martian Metal bullets, forged from the same alien craft, could stop them. But supply was dwindling.

The Martian Metal would turn every living thing it touched into metal. Allowing for an unending supply. However, the soldiers in the field had no way to craft more bullets - especially when under fire. Each one was a precious lifeline.

Lieutenant Jin Shu and his platoon had one final mission: evacuate the last survivors from the city.

“Last survivors on board, Lieutenant,” Sergeant Daniel Park called, his voice rough, as the final civilian was loaded into the APC. “We good to move?”

Jin Shu nodded grimly. "All squads, mount up. Let’s roll out."

"That was easy, no one died!" Corporal McTavish's voice crackled over the comms.

"Shut it, McTavish!" Park growled. "You jinx us every time."

Jin Shu forced a breath, fatigue pulling at his limbs. "Clear comms. Double-time it, before McTavish curses us... again."

Forced laughter and acknowledgments echoed in response, the soldiers trying to find some solace in the humor amid the horror.

Park slapped the side of the lead APC. "Move out!"

The convoy lurched forward, engines rumbling to life, but then—crack! A gunshot split the night. Breaking the eerie silence like a bolt out of the blue.

Everything exploded into chaos.

The sounds of roaring monsters and echoes of more gunshots followed closely behind the first.

"Shit! Contact left!" McTavish’s panicked voice blared through the radio, mixed with the sound of fully-automatic gunfire.

"Alpha, Bravo! Cover left! Charlie, Delta, eyes on the right! Echo, protect those APCs!" Jin Shu's orders came sharp and fast.

Gunfire erupted as the soldiers fought to fend off another horde of Diseased, their grotesque forms lumbering out of the shadows. The fight was short but seemed stretched on for far longer, each bullet precious, every shot a struggle to stay alive.

Jin Shu fought beside his men, refusing to be a commander who watched from a distance. He had seen too many like that—cowards who let their soldiers die for them. Not him. He would fight until his last breath.

"Fuck! Armored, left flank!" Daniel shouted, his voice strained. "Need RPG, now!"

Lance Corporal Dennis fumbled with the rocket launcher on his back. The Armored—a hulking monster covered in black, scaled armor—towered over the battlefield, five meters tall and unstoppable. Only its exposed mouth or a direct hit from a rocket could bring it down.

Crash! The beast barreled through a crumbling building, dust swirling around it like a shroud. Dennis aimed blindly into the haze. He couldn’t miss. Not now. Dennis thought desperately.

The ground shook with its heavy steps, getting closer to the defensive line. Dennis could barely make out its blurred shadow in the dust. With no time he fired.

Woosh! The rocket tore the dust, clearing a path toward the rampaging goliath. Just before impact— a smaller Diseased stepped into its path. Boom! The rocket detonated, killing a small swath of Diseased, but left the charging Armored alive and unharmed.

"Fu—" Dennis didn’t get another chance. The Armored crashed into him, claws flashing. His body hit the ground in bloody ribbons.

McTavish hurled a grenade at the monster, but the explosion didn’t slow it. The thing roared, flames dancing harmlessly around its massive form.

McTavish raised his rifle, aiming for its mouth. Click. Empty. A second later, snap! The Armored’s jaws snapped around him, cleaving him in two, broken like a brittle twig.

The battlefield was a slaughter. Jin Shu’s men were falling, their bodies joining the metallic husks of the Diseased. He felt each loss like a blow to his chest, but there was no time to mourn.

He fought valiantly, but it wasn't enough; the unending tide of Diseased pushed on and on.

The sound of gunfire was dwindling. His men were all but dead, but he couldn't order a retreat, not with the Armored still alive. The APCs hadn't made it far enough.

Amidst the mayhem, his weapon was knocked from his grasp; the Armored lunged at him, its monstrous claws grazing his shoulder. The gun recoiled, bang! A stray bullet discharged into his left arm. The searing pain was immediate, and Jin Shu’s arm began to transform—metal spreading from the wound, alien, cold.

Still, Jin Shu didn’t falter. Gripping his sidearm with his good hand, he continued to fight, determined to protect the transports. His strength waned, his vision blurred, but he took aim one last time at the towering Armored monster charging at him. His final shot struck true, piercing through the monster’s mouth and straight to its brain, felling it instantly.

Jin Shu staggered, his vision blurring as the metal continued to crawl up his arm. Around him, the battlefield grew silent once more—his platoon, his brothers-in-arms, lay dead. He was the last one standing.

The weight of his body pulled him down, his limbs heavy with the alien metal spreading through his veins. His vision darkened, the last of his strength fading. Please… let the survivors make it out.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

Jun Shu awoke, how was he awake? He should have died. No, he did die.

But here he was waking up, not as himself. He was someone else, yet himself at the same time. The memories melding in his brain told him as much.

Memories of his final moments flashed through his mind: the smell of gunpowder, the sight of his men's broken bodies, and the taste of his blood as it flowed through his mouth. Then memories of growing up in this life. His father's rough hands holding him as a child, his mother's warm, loving embrace, the taste of strawberries—he hated strawberries in his last life. But, loved them in this. Strange.

The place Jin Shu awoke in was unlike any he had ever known, yet unmistakably familiar. The sensation of his memories mixing, new and old, old and new, all in a maddening swirl, was disorienting, to say the least.

The air was thick with the scent of forge fires and earthy minerals. He was in a small room, surrounded by blacksmithing tools and weapons. As he tried to sit up, he noticed his body was no longer encased in metal appearing fully human once more. Confusion flooded his mind.

It wasn't until his eyes glanced upon a familiar shape resting on a table in the corner, that his memories all came together in a pain-inducing flood, like a jagged kaleidoscope of emotions. "My gun." He muttered.

When the pain from his memories awakening subsided he grabbed the gun from the table. The pistol was a near-perfect replica of his service weapon—an M17—the only difference being this one was made of a matte black metal, unlike the coyote tan of the one from his previous life.

Laying next to the pistol was a single bullet; strangely, this bullet didn't look like a replica but seemed to be the real thing. How did a bullet from Earth make its way to another world?

A stern, muscular man entered the room interrupting Jin Shu’s thoughts. "You’re awake," the man said gruffly. "Get out here and help your old man with the forge."

Jin Shu’s thoughts swirled as memories of his final battle and this new reality clashed. His mind struggled to reconcile them. Who was this man, and why did he feel so familiar? It was like he had lived two lives simultaneously—one as a soldier, the other as the son of a blacksmith in a world of immortals.

He looked at the man again, and the memories snapped into place. This was his father, Jin Chen, a master blacksmith of the Jin family. In this new world, Jin Shu was the eldest son of the renowned Jin family, famed for their runesmithing.

The presence of his sidearm beside him was the only thing connecting him to his past life.

"Stop gawking and get moving!" Jin Chen barked. "I don’t care about your little toys," he said, gesturing to the gun, "we make real weapons here, for real cultivators. Now get to the forge!"

Jin Shu stood, still disoriented, but his soldier’s discipline kicked in. He followed his father out of the room, his thoughts a whirl of his new and old identities.

As he reached the forge, his father turned to him, a gleam in his eye. "Now that you’ve reached the first stage of the Qi Realm, it’s time you learned our family’s runesmithing techniques. It’s time to become a real blacksmith."

"I'm already a real blacksmith, so don't you mean a real runesmith?"

Bam! A slap on his head was the only response to his joke.

The forge was hot. The burning embers from the furnace flickered out and landed on his skin, scalding the flesh where it touched. Sparks from hammer strikes on molten metal caused a melding of light, shadow, and heat. The smell of smoke and metals was almost unbearable, yet so very familiar.

Jin Shu coughed on the smog in the air as if it were his first time in a forge. Then, he realized that it was just his imagination; he had grown up in the forges of the Jin family since he could walk—before that even, as his dad would carry him into the forge, stating that he needed to get used to the heat early.

His old man would then receive a beating from his mother. His skin, a hardy tan from the forge fires, would be covered in black and blue welts for weeks after. Yet he would still drag the few-month-old Jin Shu into the forge the next day, in an endless cycle of forge, beating, forge.

Jin Shu laughed at the memories of his dad's black and blue skin. No, that wasn't a memory; Jin Shu was staring at a patch of bruised skin on his dad's exposed chest, under all the curly black hair.

“Made Mom mad again, huh?” He asked, gesturing to the bruises.

With a whistle, his dad pointedly ignored him, choosing to turn and walk into the forge's backroom.

Jin Shu followed, still chuckling. That endless cycle continued until he was ten when his mother finally got tired of beating the old man, claiming it hurt her fist, punching his solid muscles.

His memories from two lifetimes had finally merged, but rather than splitting him into two people, they made him appreciate this current life so much more.

In his original world, he'd grown up an orphan. The closest thing he had to a family was his brothers-in-arms, God rest their souls, but no longer. Now, he had a truly loving family, making him feel like the most privileged person in the world.

His dad's voice cut through his mind. "Enough daydreaming." He shoved a stack of papers into Jin Shu's hands. "You’ve got the knowledge now, but knowledge alone doesn’t forge a weapon—or inscribe a rune. Sit down and start practicing." He said bluntly, pointing to a table and stool in the corner.

Sitting on the worn stool, wincing as a sliver poked his ass, Jin Shu picked up a tool lying on the table—an inscribing needle. It was a long pointed tool, looking like a soldering iron from his previous life. It functioned much the same, albeit powered by Qi, instead of electricity. The essential tool of a runesmith; without it, they'd be useless.

Holding the needle felt like an extension of his body. He could feel his Qi flow through the needle, as a heat pulsed along its length.

Pressing the tip against the parchment, black lines were etched into the paper following the movement of his hands.

"Good!" His dad's gruff voice cut through his concentration causing his hand to shake. His lines blurred and the drawing was ruined.

"Damn it! You messed up my flow, old man." Jin Shu said, glancing up at his dad with an aggrieved look.

Smack !

"Ow!" His Dad's palm met the back of his head.

***

Several grueling hours of work later Jin Shu was sweating, piles of finished and half-finished drawings lay scattered across the table.

He was on his last paper, drawing the last line, thud! A bundle of papers was dropped on the table by his old man. This time, Jin Shu didn't let his concentration slip. Hands kept steady as he drew the last line. " Phew . Done"

"Now that you've finished practicing, it's time to work for real." A cheeky grin split his dad's face as he pushed the new stack of paper towards Jin Shu.

"..." Jin Shu opened his mouth to say something, however a wave of dizziness overtook him. Bam! His head landed hard on the table; he was pretty sure his forehead split judging by the warm feeling of his head. But he couldn't think about that now, his heavy eyelids snapped shut, and everything went black.

***

"Aah! Wife, please stop hitting, you're going to break my bones! Look he'll be fine. It was just a prank." Was the first thing Jin Shu heard as his foggy mind regained consciousness.

He slowly cracked his eyes open to see his mother beating the living daylights out of his dad. Even though his dad was a huge , two-meter-tall, muscle-bound man, there was no way he could match his mother.

His 1.4-meter-tall mother was nearly half the size of his old man but over twice as strong. She was almost an entire realm stronger than him, after all.

" Ugh ..." An involuntary groan escaped his lips as a splitting headache beat against his head like a blind monkey banging a drum— what does that even mean? No answer came, the pain kept most thoughts away.

His mother heard his groan; practically flying to his side, she reached him in a blink accompanied by a swoosh from her cream robes. "My poor baby!" She hugged his head too tightly against her chest, causing difficulty breathing.

"Mmm!!" He struggled in her embrace, exasperating his headache even further. His arms flailed about, pushing at her, but he was too weak to push her off.

What little air he could siphon was filled with a lavender scent.

A wayward thought entered his mind, she's using the perfume I gave her, I'm glad she likes it... that's not what I should be worried about! I need to get air!

His flailing only caused her to hug him tighter. I'm going to die a second time. This time instead of a monster that kills me, it's going to be my mother…

Luckily she pulled his head away to check him over.

Gasp! He took in a deep breath, then choked on the smoggy, metallic air of the forge. I'd rather be suffocated by her lavender-scent than this shitty air... What the hell am I thinking!?

"Are you okay baby?" She cooed, "Tell Mommy if it hurts anywhere, and I'll give it a kiss to make it feel better, okay?"

" Cough ...! I'm fine..." He stood up from the stool he had been sitting on and looked down at her. Thankfully he'd inherited his dad's height and his mother's looks.

Speaking of his mother's looks: she was a stunning woman. With long flowing brown hair adorned with a beautiful red zan hua to match her vibrant red eyes, and red painted lips. She lived up to her name, Sun Mei'er—‘the beautiful one’.

Jin Shu reached out, pulling the front of her robes closed in case she decided to hug him. He'd rather not experience that suffocation again.

"Oh, my son is so thoughtful." She gushed. Clasping his hand, she dragged him towards the exit. "Let's get you out of this stinky forge. Otherwise, my poor baby's smooth skin will get dry and cracked like that crusty old man over there." She said, pointing to his dad's collapsed body resting in the corner.

" Hiss ." He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw his dad's body lying in a crumbled mess. If he didn't know better, he'd assume it was a dead body and not his living breathing father.

As his mother dragged him away, he gave his dad's twitching body one more glance.

He chuckled lightly.

Their family's love was... unique to say the least. To the average person, this may look like a case of domestic abuse. However, it was actually the exact opposite. Despite how it looked, his dad wasn't truly hurt... Well , okay, he was hurt, but it was for his own good.

His dad cultivated a special body tempering technique that needed to be tempered the same way a blacksmith would temper a blade—through a multitude of hammer strikes. And that was exactly what his mother had done.

His dad would become stronger with each beating. Jin Shu suspected that was why his dad seemed to always anger his mother, so she could have an excuse to beat him, and he could try and keep up with her higher cultivation.

At least, that's what he thought. He had never actually seen his parents act intimate in any way.

Stepping out of the forge into the night air, the cool breeze tickled Jin Shu's skin and broke him from his strange thoughts. It was a nice, much-needed contrast to the heat of the forge.

He gazed at his mother's back as she pulled him along. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, this was the life he'd always dreamed of. It was such a strange feeling; half his soul longed for a mother's love he had never known, and the other half was bothered by her overly fussy nature.

He vowed in his heart, that he would protect this family with every fiber of his being. Both parts of his soul agreed on that.

"The audacity of that bitch! To say I was unfit to be Vice-Sect Master just because I wanted my son to join and maybe take a few disciples as concubines. Can you believe the nerve of that woman!?" Sun Mei'er’s voice echoed through the dimly candle-lit courtyard.

She’d dragged Jin Shu here an hour ago and hadn’t stopped ranting since. Jin Shu, though, was perfectly content to sit there, listening in silence. Whatever she wanted to say, he was willing to hear.

A maid hurried into the courtyard, bowing briefly. “Master, your disciple, Fan Biyu, is requesting an audience.”

"Oh, let her in."

With a quiet bow, the maid departed as swiftly as she had arrived.

Moments later, a young woman stepped through the doorway.

Jin Shu’s gaze caught on her, captivated. He could only think of one word to describe her, “ jade .” Her long hair, deep as evergreen boughs, was a dark jade, and her eyes—like polished jade pools—reflected his stunned face. She wore robes of varying shades of green, accented by a purple belt around her waist.

Noticing Jin Shu’s expression, Sun Mei'er grinned. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Exquisitely,” he replied, unabashed in his praise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Fan. I’m Jin Shu. I hear you’re my mother’s disciple. I hope she’s treated you well.” He stood to give a respectful bow, placing his left palm over his right fist.

Fan Biyu gracefully returned his salute, smiling. “The pleasure is mine. Master is like a second mother to me. So, please, call me Biyu.”

“You should call her Sister Biyu, since she’s older than you, Shu,” his mother cut in, her grin widening. She turned to him, “and stop calling me ‘ Mother!’ I’ve told you a thousand times—it’s too distant and makes me sound old!”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Aah! Biyu, you see what I mean? This stubborn boy never listens to his mommy!” Sun Mei'er pouted.

“Yes, Master.” Biyu laughed softly.

“And you too!” Sun Mei’er shot Biyu a mock glare. “You’re just as stubborn as he is!”

Fan Biyu responded with a silent smile, her composure unshaken.

“So, what brings you here, Sis—er… Biyu?” Jin Shu hesitated, his words faltering. He couldn't bring himself to call her “Sister.” The thought of addressing someone who, in his previous life, would have been a decade younger than him felt too awkward.

Fan Biyu stifled a giggle at his stumbling. “Sect Master Chen sent me to call Master back,” she explained lightly.

“Oh? Mother only returned a few weeks ago. Is she needed back at the Immortal Phoenix Sect so soon?”

“There’s been some unsettling activity in the southern region,” Fan Biyu said, her tone turning serious. “The sect elders are holding a meeting, and as Vice-Sect Master, she must attend.”

“Are the demonic cultivators active again?” Jin Shu asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“Yes,” Sun Mei’er answered before Fan Biyu could. “They’ve been making a resurgence lately.”

Jin Shu turned to his mother, his brows furrowing. “Is it dangerous?”

Sun Mei’er didn’t answer directly. Instead, she plastered on an exaggeratedly touched expression, her eyes growing mockingly teary. “Oh, my precious baby is worried about his poor mommy?” she cooed, pulling him into a tight embrace.

This time, Jin Shu was prepared. He turned his head just in time to avoid being smothered against her chest, though her teasing was no less suffocating. He realized she was dodging the question about the danger, but perhaps that was for the best. Deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

For now, he allowed himself to sink into the warmth of her embrace. It felt oddly soothing—like a first. And in a way, it was. For the Jin Shu of Earth, who had grown up an orphan, this was his first time experiencing the love of a mother.

The moment felt blissful until he glanced up and saw Fan Biyu watching him, her warm smile stirring his embarrassment.

His face flushed. Quickly, he wriggled free of Sun Mei’er’s arms, much to her dismay.

“Aww…” she pouted, clearly disappointed.

Jin Shu noticed the faint light of dawn filling the courtyard and seized the opportunity to escape. Feigning a yawn, he gave a respectful nod to both women. “I’ll take my leave now,” he said, his tone polite but brisk, before standing and retreating from the scene.

“Goodbye, my precious son!” Sun Mei'er called out, waving her arm in an exaggerated farewell.

Jin Shu paused, looking back with a bemused expression. “Are you leaving so soon?”

“We're not,” she replied, smirking, “I just miss you every second I’m not with you!”

He shook his head, suppressing a smile as he walked away, her teasing laughter echoing behind him.

***

In the quiet courtyard, Sun Mei’er turned to her disciple with a sly grin tugging at her lips. “What did I tell you? Handsome, isn’t he? He takes after me, after all.”

Fan Biyu smiled softly. “He certainly is handsome,” she admitted. “But no.”

Sun Mei’er gasped in mock outrage, placing a hand over her heart as if wounded. “I haven’t even said anything yet!” she exclaimed, though the mischievous sparkle in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.

“I already know what you’re going to ask,” Fan Biyu replied evenly. “You’ve asked me countless times now, and my answer hasn’t changed.”

“Really? Even after seeing him up close?” Sun Mei’er pressed, leaning closer. “You know, if you don’t act soon, some other girl will snatch him up. Then your master won’t be able to guarantee your spot as the main wife.”

“Don’t need it,” Fan Biyu responded bluntly, her tone firm.

Sun Mei’er blinked, momentarily taken aback, but before she could muster a retort, Fan Biyu continued. “It’s late—or rather, early—and I haven’t slept. I’m retiring for the… morning.” With a graceful bow, she turned and walked away, leaving her master to stew over her rejection.

***

Back in his room, Jin Shu sat at an opulent wooden desk intricately carved with coiling dragons and crouching tigers. His room was filled with luxurious items, each one a gift from his mother. Some, he knew, had been borrowed from his uncle’s royal treasury.

His uncle was Emperor Sun of the Sun dynasty, making Sun Mei'er a princess—and himself the Emperor’s nephew. At his mother's vehement behest, Jin Shu was conferred the title of Golden Prince, a title that also earned him a position in the royal court at the same rank as the Crown Prince.

Looking around the room, Jin Shu couldn’t help but reflect on how vastly different his two lives were. In his first life, he had been a poor orphan. Now, he was the eldest son of the esteemed Jin family and nephew to an emperor.

Pushing the distracting thoughts aside, he turned his focus to the pistol in his hand, examining it carefully. What was it about this gun—or rather, the bullet he held—that had awakened memories from his past life?

He lifted the bullet, inspecting it closely. The base was stamped with a headstamp that read: [9mm | 2042] .

This simple engraving—signifying the caliber and year of manufacturing—marked it as a Martian Metal bullet. It came from his old world, but the date, 2042, indicated it was made a year after his death.

“2042… how's that possible…?” He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the bullet had come from the future of his old world. The fact that he'd awoken memories of his last life was already shocking enough, now he had to deal with bullets from the future of another world.

“I guess that's not very important. The real question is, where did I find it…?” He recalled a street vendor claiming it was discovered deep within the forest beneath the Black Mountains. Later, he would seek them out and ask exactly where it had been found.

But first, he needed sleep.

The day had been long, exhausting, and above all else, it was bizarre. Two lives worth of memories were bouncing around in his head and it all had to do with a bullet from the future, or who knows, maybe it's a bullet from the past, or present? He had no way of knowing what year Earth was on now. Or if Earth was even real in the first place. He had the memories of it, but who's to say. Maybe he's just gone insane.

***

Dawn had passed and it was late evening before Jin Shu woke up. He promised himself that he'd never let himself be fooled into using all his Qi by his father again. Experiencing the headache from overdrawing his Qi was one of the worst things he'd ever felt.

Jin Shu walked the bustling streets of Black Mountain City, his eyes scanning the vendors in search of the one who had sold him the bullet.

The streets were alive with activity. Guardsmen patrolled in pairs, their armor gleaming faintly in the fading light. Vendors called out to passersby, advertising an array of goods—everything from sizzling street food to essential household items. Wives hurried through the market, gathering ingredients for their evening meals, their voices mingling with the din of bartering. This was but one of the many lively streets that wove through the city, each as vibrant as the last.

The crisp evening air carried a hint of pine, a reminder of the nearby Black Mountains that loomed over the city. Jin Shu weaved through the throng, trying to remain inconspicuous. Though he received respectful bows and nods from those who recognized him, he preferred to avoid drawing attention. Formalities would only slow him down, and his mind was preoccupied with the bullet. What could it mean?

Still, Jin Shu couldn’t ignore those in need. When an elderly apple vendor’s cart was overturned by a playful mutt, he paused to help her gather the scattered fruit, offering her a kind word and a reassuring smile. A few steps later, he came across a young newlywed who had tripped, spilling the ingredients she’d carefully chosen for her husband’s first meal. He bent down without hesitation, helping her pick up the vegetables while murmuring a quick blessing for her marriage.

Though his thoughts were elsewhere, his actions spoke volumes of his character—a man who, even with pressing matters on his mind, could not overlook the struggles of others.

After some time, Jin Shu spotted the vendor, a skinny, old man hunched over a stall with an assortment of peculiar trinkets haphazardly strewn about. The vendor seemed preoccupied with polishing an old pendant, humming to himself, oblivious to the world around him.

Jin Shu cleared his throat as he approached. “Good evening, sir.”

The vendor looked up, eyes brightening with recognition. “Ah! The young master returns,” he said, bowing with a toothy grin. “Did you come for another of my treasures?”

“Not today,” Jin Shu replied, holding up the bullet. “I came to ask about this. You said it was found in the forest beneath the Black Mountains. Can you be more specific?”

The vendor squinted, examining the bullet with a puzzled look before nodding slowly. “Yes, yes… I remember now. An odd little thing, isn’t it? A hunter brought it to me, said he found it near the base of the Black Mountains. Said it was wedged in some rock, nearly broke his knife prying it out.”

Jin Shu’s brow furrowed. “Can you show me exactly where?”

The vendor scratched his chin, looking around thoughtfully before ducking beneath his stall. He stood back up with a tattered map, unrolling it on the counter with deliberate care. The parchment was covered in ink marks, some old and faded, others fresher, marking trails and landmarks Jin Shu recognized.

The vendor’s gnarled finger traced a path along the Black Mountains, stopping at a small, nearly indistinguishable spot. “Here,” he said, tapping the map. “The base of a cliff, hidden among the trees and boulders. No one goes there—bad luck, they say. But if you really want to see for yourself, I can mark the way.”

Jin Shu watched as the vendor outlined the route, noting landmarks he could use as guides. “Thank you,” he said, pocketing the map carefully. “You’ve been most helpful.”

The vendor’s grin returned, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “Anything for the Golden Prince! Just, uh… be careful. Strange things are known to happen around those mountains.”

Jin Shu offered a brief nod of acknowledgment. “I’ll be careful.”

As he left the stall, Jin Shu felt the weight of the bullet in his pocket—a reminder of both his past life and the enigma it represented. He had a destination now, and perhaps, a clue to unraveling the mysteries of his awoken memories.

With the vendor’s map guiding him, he knew his journey was only beginning.

Jin Shu navigated a dense forest path, carefully picking his way through prickly brambles and thick underbrush. His eyes lingered on the map he’d received from the old vendor, where a dragon coiled around the mountain ranges like a mythical guardian.

According to legend in Black Mountain City, a dragon had scorched the peaks with its fiery breath thousands of years ago—giving it its black color, and some even whispered that it still slumbered beneath the Black Mountains.

A rustling sound above pulled his attention. A horned squirrel scurried through the branches, and Jin Shu smirked at the sight. It reminded him of Earth’s squirrels—one of his favorite animals back then. Some things, it seemed, didn’t change.

He’d been walking for hours and, noticing his hunger, searched the foliage. Wild strawberries grew in clusters nearby, their small red bodies glistening in the sunlight. He hated strawberries in his old life, but in this one, he couldn’t get enough of them. He was unsure how his memories would affect his hatred for the berries. Only one way to find out.

As he reached for a handful, a rapid chattering broke out from above. The squirrel from earlier, now with a red-stained mouth gnawing on a half-eaten strawberry, was watching, clutching the berry as though it were precious. Jin Shu ignored it and bit into a strawberry, savoring the unexpected sweetness—a mix of roses and pineapple.

“Mm, they're good, though not actually strawberries.”

The squirrel watched, bristling in fury, then pelted him with a barrage of nuts. Bop! A nut smacked his head.

Jin Shu laughed until one nut landed square in his mouth. He spluttered, nearly choking, he spit it out into his hand and tossed it back with unexpected speed, hitting it square on and sending the squirrel flying.

Bam! It smashed into the trunk of the tree, slowly sliding down.

If the little creature survived, he ignored it, finishing his snack before resuming his journey.

***

The same chattering creature returned later, sporting a large welt on its forehead—a persistent menace. No matter how far Jin Shu walked, every few minutes, a nut would strike him squarely on the head. He tried to ignore it, hoping the creature would eventually tire itself out.

“It was just a few strawberries,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Bonk!

Another nut smacked the back of his head. His patience wearing thin, Jin Shu reached into the hidden pocket of his hanfu sleeve, fingers brushing against the cold metal of his pistol and its solitary bullet. For a fleeting moment, he seriously considered using it on the annoying little pest.

***

A sudden, loud crack froze him. A massive tiger emerged from the underbrush—a towering beast of muscle and striped fur with white wings tucked at its sides.

Jin Shu pressed himself against the tree trunk, his heart hammering. The Winged Tiger. This beast wasn’t just any predator; it rivaled cultivators at the higher Qi stages, far beyond Jin Shu’s meager abilities.

Slowly, he drew the pistol and bullet from his pocket, the single round feeling heavy in his hand. He’d never planned to use it, but now he was grateful he had crafted a gun to match it. With a quiet, practiced motion, he pulled the slide back and placed the bullet directly into the chamber. Not a recommended way of loading a pistol, but he scarcely had a better option now.

A rustling sound came from high above, breaking the tense silence.

He looked up, finding the squirrel watching him from the branches, arm pulled back, poised with a large nut, however not aimed at him, instead aimed at the Winged Tiger. Jin Shu’s heart raced, shaking his head and clasping hands together, silently begging it for mercy.

But the squirrel only cocked its head, as if amused. With a defiant squeak, it lobbed the nut toward the tiger.

Jin Shu’s heart dropped. The nut arced through the air, striking the tiger’s eye with a soft bop.

The tiger whipped its head around, gaze blazing as it caught Jin Shu’s scent.

Desperation gripped him as he cursed the little demon of a squirrel. If I survive this, I'm going to find you, you little shit, and when I do, I'm going to enjoy my first taste of roasted squirrel.

The pistol was his last chance. Raising it, he aimed at the tiger’s left eye, praying that the single bullet would be enough.

The trigger pressed— click , hammer struck— bang!

The bullet tore from the barrel with maddening glee. After years of waiting, it could finally fulfill its purpose: Kill! Transform! Repair!

Squelch .

The bullet found purchase in the beast's eye. It should have pierced through to the brain, but this beast was stronger than anything in his original world, its body fortified by the pulsing energy of Qi.

The bullet struggled, its purpose slipping away as it fought against the thick defenses. Inertia spent, its mission incomplete, it finally came to rest—lamenting its failure.

But all was not lost. The bullet held a final gift— transformation .

The tiger staggered, blood mixed with alien metal welling from its eye. But it was still alive—enraged and vengeful.

Roar!

The beast’s howl of agony reverberated through the forest, the vibration rattling Jin Shu to his core.

No time to think. He turned and sprinted, branches and rocks barring his escape. They tore at his skin and tripped his feet, muscles screaming for rest. But he wouldn't—no, couldn't —stop.

He hadn’t anticipated a creature like this—a beast armed not only with wings but with the wrath of something truly wild.

He could feel its breath on his back, hot and rancid, and hear the scraping of its claws tearing into the forest floor.

Only two things kept him alive. The tiger couldn’t use its wings in the cramped forest, and its injured eye—alien alloy spreading in webs through the creature’s flesh—slowed it down with each step.

Jin Shu’s mind raced. A boulder—there! He spotted it towering ahead, easily twice the tiger’s size. Desperation tightened his breath as a rough plan took form. He whispered a hurried prayer to any higher power that may govern this world.

Keeping the boulder on his left—the tiger’s injured side—he leapt at the last moment, rolling behind it just as—

Crash!

The impact sent spiderweb cracks through the stone.

Run . His mind screamed it, but his body balked, every muscle straining for rest. He staggered up, heart pounding in his ears as he fought to keep moving. The tiger’s pace was faltering, but its rage was undiminished.

There—salvation , a dark gap split the mountain wall. Ten seconds. He needed just ten seconds.

One.

He spotted the crack, a shadowy tear in the rock.

Two.

Scrambling to his feet, he forced his aching legs to carry him forward.

Three. Four. Five.

He broke through the underbrush, hissing as an errant branch sliced a deep gash in his cheek.

Six.

The tiger snapped from its daze, the remaining eye blazing with fury as it locked onto him.

Seven.

Halfway there—and the beast was closing fast.

Eight.

Freed from the forest, the tiger spread its wings. A single powerful flap doubled its speed, propelling it forward.

Nine.

Slash! “Ah!” Claws raked across Jin Shu’s back, blood spilling in hot streaks as pain lanced through him.

Ten!

Propelled by the tiger’s strike, he careened forward and rolled into the crack, collapsing in a crumpled, bloody heap. The tiger roared, clawing frantically at the rocks, its paws scraping against the stone as it strained to reach him. When that failed, it thrust a claw through the narrow opening, desperate to catch him.

Jin Shu’s vision blurred, his strength fading fast from blood loss. His body trembled as the tiger’s claws raked over his leg, snagging on his pant leg.

With a vicious tug, he was yanked back toward the beast’s gaping maw. He could barely summon the will to struggle, to fight, as the tiger’s jaws clamped onto his shoulder.

How did it come to this? The thought slipped away as darkness took him.

Jin Shu had died, again… or so he had thought.

His thoughts remained, but an itching numbness spread throughout his entire body. It didn’t lessen his fear; he couldn’t open his eyes or even twitch his fingers. A chilling thought crossed his mind—the tiger had severed his spine, leaving him paralyzed.

Damn it!! I've died to a beast stronger than me in each life! If I get a third chance, I swear I’ll never be weak again!

Just as he feared he’d lie here until blood loss or dehydration took his life, a gut-wrenching pain shot through him. It surpassed any pain he’d felt in either of his lives.

He couldn't tell how long the agony lasted, but eventually, he found himself praying for death. He’d never once feared pain, but this was different. It was as if burning embers covered every nerve while he was simultaneously submerged in arctic water—a relentless, unbearable cycle.

The pain should have overwhelmed his mind and knocked him unconscious, but it didn’t. He was forced to endure every excruciating second.

Finally, after an unknown period, the pain faded. He could feel his body again, though he still couldn’t move.

A strange ringing filled his mind, like an explosion going off beside his ears.

“Emergency damage repair completed. Reboot required, seeking Admin authorization… No Admin in range… Reboot cleared on protocol 174.6… Reboot initialized…”

Am I hallucinating from blood loss? Jin Shu wondered as a strange voice echoed in his head after the ringing stopped.

“Reboot complete… New host detected! Beginning orientation,” the voice continued.

“Hello, new user, we are Nano. The cutting edge in nanotechnology and AI! Please hold for a moment while we process your memories to better suit your needs. Beginning memory scan…”

The voice spoke directly to him—or at least he thought it did. He understood its words, but his mind was still fractured from the earlier pain, too muddled to process it fully.

“Memory scan completed. Hello, Jin Shu. As we mentioned, we are Nano. Apologies, but we have a few questions. We have found ourselves in an unexpected situation, not covered in our protocols. Could you help?” the voice—Nano, as it called itself—asked. Somehow it knew his name.

Jin Shu’s mind cleared enough to understand. Have I gone insane from the pain?

“You are not insane… well, not enough to worry about,” Nano replied, sounding almost cheerful.

What? So I am insane?

“Ah, no… that was a joke. Apologies; according to your memories, you enjoy jokes. So we attempted one ourselves. Was that wrong?”

Uh, no, it’s fine. I’m just… confused. What are you?

“As we stated, we are Nano. To elaborate, we are a collection of nanobots created by Gooble Nanotech. Trillions of us were installed on a spacecraft. According to your memory, that ship crashed on your previous planet, which leads to our question: how is it that you have two sets of memories? We have never encountered this situation.”

Okay, I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. Deal?

“Certainly!”

Alright. I think I have two sets of memories because of reincarnation, though I’m not entirely sure myself.

“Interesting. That aligns with what we saw in your memories, though we have no programming on reincarnation. Now, our next question: what exactly is this strange energy in your body?”

Energy in my body…? Oh! You mean Qi? It’s… well… hmm… I’m not sure, it’s just Qi. Can’t you figure it out by reading my mind or something?

“We cannot read ongoing thoughts unless directly addressed due to privacy settings; we only scan memories upon installation, per the user agreement, section one, paragraph three, line five.”

Uh… but I never signed any user agreements.

“Due to the nature of your injuries, the user agreement was waived.”

Ah! Speaking of my injuries, why can’t I move or open my eyes?

“Apologies once more. We restrained your body during repairs to prevent further injury. We will release those restraints now.”

A mental “click” sounded, and he could finally move.

He opened his eyes, scanning his surroundings for the tiger. Thankfully, it seemed to have vanished.

“If you are looking for the tiger, it has been assimilated into you. We needed its energy to save both ourselves and you, as its Qi nearly destroyed us.”

What? Assimilated?

“The tiger’s body contained far more Qi than yours. To survive, we absorbed it and transferred its Qi into you for healing. You’ll find that your cultivation has advanced as a result.”

He checked and, indeed, his cultivation had increased to the 4th stage of the Qi Realm.

What happened to its body?

“Its physical form was converted to meteor steel, or as you know it, Martian Metal. That compound comprises us nanobots and was used for spacecraft repair. Now that we’re cut off from our original task, we have rebooted to default functions. So it was instead converted into a synthetic to mend your wounds.”

Uh, okay… let’s pretend I understood any of that. So, what exactly can you do?

“We possess many functions, though only some are accessible to you. We believe you’ll be most interested in two: the first is injury repair. Typically, healing organic life forms is difficult, but merging with Qi has enhanced this ability. The second is information processing. Equipped with supercomputer-level processors, we can analyze data much faster than your brain.”

So basically, you can heal my injuries using my Qi and solve problems quickly?

“Precisely!”

As he conversed with the nanobots, Jin Shu examined himself. His robes were shredded and stained with blood, but his body was completely uninjured.

He then checked the map to locate his position—he was surprised to find he was at the exact spot where the bullet had been found.

“We have detected an energy fluctuation similar to the Winged Tiger,” Nano spoke suddenly. “It is deep in the crevice behind you.”

There's another one! Jin Shu's heart nearly leapt from his chest.

“Unsure. If it is, it is much weaker. With your current strength, you would overpower it,” Nano reassured him.

“Phew! It's probably a baby then… I hope,” he sighed and searched around for more bullets. “Oh, first, can you hear me if I speak aloud? And were you the bullet I shot earlier?”

“We can hear you whether you speak aloud or with thoughts. And yes, we were in a dormant state after the people in your old world shaped us into ammunition for your weapons.”

“Can you find more of you?” Jin Shu asked, his gaze scanning the area for any sign of additional bullets, or really anything related to Earth.

“Normally no, but if we use your Qi, yes.”

“My Qi? How does that work?”

“Allow us to explain,” Nano replied. “To locate similar fragments, we need energy to amplify our signal beyond typical limits. Qi, which permeates this world, serves as an ideal power source. By channeling a small portion of your Qi into us, we can enhance our internal systems and extend our detection range.”

Jin Shu raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re using my Qi like… fuel?”

“Precisely. We’ll only require a minor amount for this search—enough to avoid any significant drain on your cultivation level.” He felt a slight pull from his core, a gentle flow as Qi flowed toward his head. The sensation was odd, like a faint tingling, as his energy surged into the nanobots, dispersing through them.

“Okay,” Nano’s voice returned, sounding slightly energized. “Commencing scan… Signal strengthened. We have detected more fragments nearby; however, their resonance is faint. They are deep within that crevice.”

Jin Shu glanced at the deep black gap in the mountain wall. Despite a flicker of dread curling through his gut, he pushed it down. He wouldn’t let a little fear stop him now.

Still, a question lingered. Nano, if those fragments have been lying dormant… why are they waking up now?

There was a pause, almost hesitant. “Unknown. But the energy detected is unstable. Be advised: retrieval may trigger unforeseen risks.”

He swallowed, gripping the jagged edge of the crevice as he prepared to descend. There might be valuable power within those fragments—but at what cost?

Jin Shu climbed back into the crevice. It was incredibly dark, but with his cultivation, he could see fairly well. The ceiling was just tall enough for him to stand at first, but soon he had to crouch, and eventually, he was forced to nearly crawl.

“Can you tell how much farther?” he asked Nano.

“Two minutes.” Nano responded immediately.

After one minute, Jin Shu was on his hands and knees, crawling over the jagged rocks. Thirty seconds later, he was on his stomach, squeezing through the narrow passage. He could see a faint light just ahead. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but having an entire mountain pressing down on him still didn’t feel great.

Finally, he crawled out from a small hole into a wide, open chamber. It was at least twenty meters around and thirty meters tall. High above, moonlight filtered in through a jagged opening, a reminder he’d spent the last of the daylight in that tight crevice.

Glancing around, he immediately noticed several stone pedestals along the walls with various items upon them. Some looked familiar, while others he couldn’t recognize.

He stepped closer to one of the items, recognizing it instantly and stunned to see it here in this world.

It was a white porcelain throne. In other words—a toilet…

“What the hell is a toilet doing here?”

“There seems to be a collection of items from Earth.”

He continued looking around. The chamber was large, with every wall lined with pedestals holding items. In the very center, directly below the hole in the ceiling, was a huge nest made of boulders and tree limbs. Nano confirmed that was where the other Winged Tiger and the bullets were located.

He decided to save that for last.

Most of the pedestals held useless items from Earth, such as random books in tatters or appliances like a microwave and a toaster.

Finally, he found a special pedestal at the very back of the chamber. Made of what looked like pure gold and covered in carvings of mystical creatures, it glowed with a soft light.

On it lay a slightly tattered scroll, and it seemed to belong to this world rather than Earth—unless Earth had cultivation techniques. The label read:

[Body Inscribing Art - One-of-a-kind Cultivation Technique]

He reached out to grab the scroll—

“Warning!” Nano’s voice blared, filling his mind with a loud ringing.

“Ah! Stop that!” Jin Shu shouted as the ringing stabbed his mind like a needle.

“Apologies, but that scroll seems to be surrounded by an energy field invisible to the naked eye.”

“Thanks for the warning, but next time, words alone will suffice.”

“Understood.”

Jin Shu grabbed a stone and tossed it toward the scroll.

Zap!

The stone was instantly vaporized.

His face paled. “Thanks for the warning, Nano. If it weren’t for you, I’d have lost my hand just now.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Any ideas on how to get that scroll?”

“Certainly! Give us a ‘Nano’ second…” Nano responded cheerfully. “That was a joke,” it added with a hint of sadness after a slight pause.

“Oh, haha. It was funny.” Jin Shu gave a fake laugh.

“Try examining the pedestal. There may be a switch of some kind.”

Following Nano’s advice, he inspected the pedestal and soon found an intricate carving of a dragon that didn’t match the rest. It was so detailed that it almost seemed ready to leap out.

He pressed against the carving, and it recessed.

“The energy field has dissipated.”

With Nano’s prompt, he reached for the scroll again. As he took hold of it, the scroll felt warm, seemingly infused with a special power.

Carefully, he unrolled it, only to find…nothing. “Wait, there’s nothing on it?”

“It may require an external energy source.”

“I could try Qi,” Jin Shu said as he channeled his Qi into his hands. The parchment absorbed it quickly, and letters soon began to appear.

‘ The Body Inscribing Art is my greatest accomplishment. By combining runes with the body, they can unleash a power greater than those used on weapons. It is my belief that runes were meant for the body since their inception, but over the long annals of history, that use was lost to time.’

“So, this cultivation technique uses runes on the body. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“It does say ‘one-of-a-kind’.”

“Hah, you’re right.”

As more of his Qi flowed into the scroll, additional words gradually appeared. By the time he had depleted half of his Qi reserves, the words finally stopped. Below the introduction was a blood red warning, the letters seemed as if they could start bleeding at any moment.

‘If you cannot tolerate extreme pain, do not even dream of cultivating this technique!’

Under that was what looked like a diary entry and the detailed instructions for the technique.

‘When I was young there existed a tribe—I've forgotten their name after all these years. But, I remember they used a special ink to cover their bodies with tattoos that they believed would grant them powers. That tribe has long since been driven to extinction by powerful enemies. However before their final moments I had the opportunity to witness an extraordinary feat performed by one of the tribesmen.

They were a young man no older than sixteen and had at most reached the Qi Realm. However, their opponents were two men at the Spirit Realm. That young man died fighting those men, yet, unbelievably, so too did the two men. Killed by the young man.

The scene was unimaginable, the young man at the Qi Realm was no match for the two older men. That was until his tattoos came to life, and when I say they came to life I don't mean that metaphorically, I mean it quite literally. His tattoos were of a dragon and a tiger fight over a mountain. Just as the young man was on his dying breath his tattoos leapt from his skin, catching the two men unaware and unguarded. The young man took both his attackers with him into the afterlife.

I was curious, how did the young man's tattoos come to life? So, I checked his body, and I found that he had two tattoos. One of the dragon, tiger and mountain, and the other was a rune I had never seen before. Later, I came to learn that the rune was a life-giving rune.

It was that rune drawn onto his body that gave me the inspiration to create this technique. Now, I pass this technique onto those that come after me. All I ask is that you remember the young man, though I don't know his name, nor the name of his tribe, I still can vividly remember his tattoos. So, to begin the cultivation of this technique you must replicate this tattoo.’

An extremely detailed drawing of an azure scaled dragon and massive tiger battling on top of a mountain with flowing clouds and a bright sun, was depicted below that diary-like entry.

“Hmm, that sounds like quite the special technique. But, for now I should see what else I can find before worrying anymore about this.”

After a final sweep of the chamber turned up nothing useful, he refocused on his main objective: the nest.

He scaled the side of the four-meter-tall nest and crested the top, expecting to see a baby Winged Tiger. Instead, he found a silver egg resting atop a massive pile of bullets of various calibers.

Climbing into the nest, he grabbed one of the bullets. “Can you absorb this or something?” he asked Nano.

“No. Now that we’re closer, we can tell that all of the others are already destroyed. Their reserve energy has been absorbed by that egg. That was the source of what we sensed.”

“So these are just regular bullets now?”

“Correct.” There was a faint note of genuine sadness in Nano's voice.

Jin Shu didn’t know how to cheer up a collection of nanobots, so he tried to distract it with another question. “Do you have any idea how all of these items ended up here?”

“Assuming this world is in a separate universe from our original one, we hypothesize it was either a power native to this world—or a wormhole.”

“Wormhole?”

“Yes. In our universe, wormholes are theorized to connect to other universes.”

“Hmm… So, are these bullets from a time after I died?”

“Based on your memories, you were killed, then reborn in this world. Sixteen years later, your past-life memories reawakened. So if time is linear across universes, approximately sixteen years should have passed on Earth.”

“Oh… I hadn’t thought of that.” Jin Shu felt a flush of embarrassment creep over his face. To cover it, he rummaged through the bullet pile, collecting a handful of 9mm rounds and loading them into his pistol magazine, just in case.

“We have a suggestion.”

“Hm?”

“There is a memory from your childhood, likely hazy now. Your family once dealt with a sect called the Beastmaster Sect. One of their disciples told you how to bind a spirit beast.”

“Oh, I do remember that, but… what does that have to do with anything?”

“The egg.”

“Egg? Isn’t it a Winged Tiger egg? They’re Wild Beasts, not Spirit Beasts.” Jin Shu looked back at the egg in the center of the nest. Until now, he’d ignored it, too focused on the bullets. But on closer inspection, it looked extraordinary—pure silver, almost like a sculpture rather than an egg.

“It may be a Winged Tiger egg, but it’s cultivating using energy similar to ours.”

“But only Spirit Beasts can cultivate…”

As Jin Shu stared at the silver egg, a thought struck him, a thrill mixing with hesitation. “If this egg really is cultivating… then maybe I could bind it before it hatches.”

“Correct,” Nano replied, its tone sharper with anticipation. “But the process will drain a substantial amount of your Qi… and if you fail, it may not survive.”

Jin Shu’s heart pounded as he reached out, his hand hovering over the metallic surface. He could feel the pulse of energy beneath the shell, fierce and untamed.

“Let’s take the risk,” he whispered, determination hardening his voice. The idea of forging a bond with a creature of such rare power—maybe even transforming it into a Spirit Beast—was a chance he couldn’t resist.

And so, with a deep breath, he began to channel his Qi into the egg.

“Haa… haa…” Jin Shu panted, his breaths ragged as his Qi reserves drained rapidly. He’d made a critical mistake—the scroll had already consumed half his energy, and now the egg was greedily siphoning what little remained. If he didn’t provide enough Qi, the binding would fail, and worse, the creature inside might die. But it was too late to stop now; he’d leapt onto the tiger’s back, and there was no dismounting.

“Haa… Nano… do you… know how much… more Qi it needs?” he gasped, each word a struggle.

“There is no way to calculate that,” came the monotone reply.

His vision began to blur, dark shadows creeping in at the edges. At least he recognized the signs of Qi exhaustion—he’d pushed himself to this point just yesterday while training with his father. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. As the last thread of his Qi funneled into the egg, the world around him vanished into darkness.

For the third time in forty-eight hours, Jin Shu collapsed into unconsciousness.

***

Jin Shu dreamed. In his dream, a rough-tongued ball of cotton bounced around, its small body warm and soft as it licked his face before finally curling up on his chest.

The sensation stirred a memory—a distant echo of the past. He was reminded of the kitten he had once tried raising in the orphanage he grew up in.

The dream shifted. The cavern and the playful creature on his chest faded away, replaced by the cold, oppressive sight of barred windows and the dim, gray walls of the orphanage.

Jin Shu was no longer himself. He was ten years old again, his body aching with the familiar throb of freshly inflicted bruises. The dull pain in his ribs and the sting in his knuckles told him all he needed to know: he'd been in a fight.

He glanced around the small, cramped room. He was lying on a tiny cot, barely large enough for a child his size. Two other boys lay groaning on the floor, older than him by a couple of years, maybe twelve or thirteen.

He remembered them well—bullies who had ganged up on him earlier that night. They had tried to take something precious from him: the tiny kitten he'd found shivering outside in the cold.

They wanted to steal it, intending to give it to one of the girls they liked. But Jin Shu wouldn’t let them.

The fight had been brutal. Despite his size, Jin Shu hadn’t gone down easily. He never did. He had learned early on that in a place like this, you either fought back or became a target. And while the older boys were bigger, Jin Shu was faster—and a better fighter.

“Mew.”

The soft sound brought his attention to the kitten curled on his chest. Its snow-white fur stood out against his tattered shirt, and its tiny blue eyes gleamed with trust.

“Don’t worry, Whitey,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but determined. He reached up to stroke the kitten’s head gently, his bruised fingers trembling. “I won’t let them take you. Not ever.”

The boys crawled out of the room, their bodies battered with deeper, darker bruises than his own.

But the next day, they returned—with one of the caretakers.

They’d tattled on him.

The caretaker was a towering, overweight man with a permanent sneer etched into his face—the meanest of the four who ran the orphanage. Jin Shu couldn’t remember any of their names, not the children he grew up with, nor the caretakers who loomed over their lives like storm clouds.

But this day? He remembered this day.

Even though he knew this was a dream, his mind raced with fear as the big man approached him.

He tried to run. Tried to save Whitey.

But the man was faster than he looked, grabbing Jin Shu with a force that made him feel small and helpless. With meaty hands, he pried the tiny kitten from Jin Shu’s grasp.

“No! Give her back!” Jin Shu’s ten-year-old voice cracked with desperation, tears threatening to spill.

But the man didn’t listen. He never did.

Jin Shu had had enough. He refused to relive the rest of this memory.

The dream dissolved, the edges of the scene blurring and fading until it was nothing but darkness.

***

He woke with a start, his eyes snapping open as he gasped for air.

The cavern around him was dim and still, but his focus wasn’t on his surroundings.

It was on the tiny creature curled up and sleeping peacefully on his chest.

A dark silver tiger cub, its fur shimmering faintly like polished metal, rested its head near his heart. Silver wings, folded neatly at its sides, rose and fell with each of its breaths. A faintly glowing mark, like a delicate rune, shimmered on its forehead.

The memories of the dream slipped away, fading like mist in the morning sun, leaving him with nothing but the sight before him.

Adorable. Peaceful.

A strange connection pulsed between him and the cub, an unspoken bond that made it clear this was what had hatched. Yet it didn’t resemble a typical Winged Tiger—not in color, at least. Winged Tigers were known for their vibrant orange coats with black stripes and expansive white wings. But this one was entirely unique—a shimmering blend of dark and light silver with bold black stripes running across both its body and delicate wings. A golden mark shaped like the character for "king" (王 Wáng) glowed proudly on its forehead, radiating an almost regal aura.

The cub was astonishingly small, more like a kitten than a tiger cub. It could almost fit in his palm. Then again, Jin Shu had never seen a baby tiger before, so perhaps this wasn’t as unusual as it seemed.

As he pondered its size, the tiny tiger stirred, blinking its eyes open for the first time. Bright gold irises, the same hue as the mark on its forehead, met his gaze. It looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, as if trying to understand the connection they shared.

(Official Artwork drawn by my Little Sister!)

The little creature was easily the cutest animal Jin Shu had ever seen. Squirrels had been his favorite—until that devil in the forest ruined them for him. But now, he had a new favorite.

“Hi,” Jin Shu greeted warmly, extending a hand toward the tiny tiger.

“Mew!” The cub mewed happily, pressing its small head into his palm with a soft purr before licking his hand with its rough tongue.

“I should give you a name now that you’re bound to me, right?” he asked. The cub tilted its head, letting out another curious mew in response.

“Since you’re silver, I’ll call you Yin’er.” The cub chirped with excitement, bouncing and fluttering its wings as if it understood him.

If Yin’er was a typical Winged Tiger, she shouldn’t be able to understand human speech—Wild Beasts rarely did. Yet, as a Spirit Beast bound to him, it made sense that she could comprehend him, even though such understanding usually only developed with age.

Nano’s voice broke into his thoughts. “The connection between you and the tiger cub is most interesting. The Qi you infused into the egg has intertwined your souls. Fascinating! This bond will serve as a constant beacon—you’ll never be separated.”

Jin Shu stretched and stood, brushing himself off after realizing he’d passed out atop a pile of bullets. He looked around at the gleaming metal surrounding him. “I wish I had a way to bring all these bullets back—there must be thousands.”

“From a quick estimate, there are 10,283 bullets of varying calibers. You’ve already loaded 17 into your weapon’s magazine. For an exact count, you’d need to sort them physically.”

“Mew!” Yin’er scampered off toward the eggshell remnants, returning moments later with a small ring clutched in her teeth. She pranced up to Jin Shu and dropped it at his feet.

“What’s this?” he murmured, squatting to pick up the ring. He realized it wasn’t a ring at all—it was too small for his fingers.

“Mew?” Yin’er tilted her head, clearly puzzled.

“It’s an earring,” Nano commented.

He examined the matte black surface, noting faint runes etched into it. Curious, he funneled a strand of Qi into the inscriptions.

A blinding white light exploded from the earring, forcing Jin Shu to shield his eyes. When the light faded, his jaw dropped. The bullets, the nest, the pedestals holding Earth artifacts—everything had vanished, leaving behind only the barren, rocky cavern.

“Where did everything go?” Jin Shu turned in circles, half-convinced he’d imagined it all.

“The earring stored the items,” Nano explained. “It appears to be a spatial artifact.”

“But there’s no space gem. Is it the runes?” He glanced at his hands, but the earring had disappeared. “Where’d it go?”

“Check your ear.”

“What?” Jin Shu reached up and felt the cold metal on his right earlobe. “How?”

“It likely moved there after you activated the runes.”

“How do I check what’s inside?”

“You ask us, but who are we supposed to ask?”

“Hah! True. Maybe if I activate the runes again…” Jin Shu sent a tendril of Qi to his earlobe. The moment it touched the earring, his vision swirled, and he felt himself pulled into another space.

He gasped. He stood in a boundless, star-lit expanse where countless objects floated in the air. Bullets, Earth artifacts, and unidentifiable treasures shimmered faintly, as if waiting for his command. Energy radiated from some of the items, their nature foreign yet intriguing.

A thrill ran through him. This realm felt infinite, brimming with secrets to uncover. Yin’er perched on his shoulder, her golden eyes glowing in the dim starlight. As he gazed at the mysterious artifacts, a thought nagged at him: whatever lay here may hold key information relating to his reincarnation.

Before Jin Shu could get a good look at the floating items, a strange white fog sprang up from the deep recesses of the space. The fog swept over everything quickly, leaving behind only the items from the cavern and a glowing book he hadn't noticed before.

"What just happened? Where’d those items go?" Jin Shu asked aloud.

“Unknown.”

“Mew?”

Neither of his companions could answer, though he hadn’t expected them to. One was a robot—or rather, a collection of robots—that knew as little about this world as he did. The other was a newborn tiger. It would have been stranger if they had known the answer.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he took a cautious step toward the floating items. Though he half-expected to fall through the empty space, his foot met resistance, as if there were an invisible floor.

He let out a shaky breath, nerves on edge from the invisible footing. I wish I could just have the items come to me. And just like that, they floated over to him.

"Wow, I can control this place with thoughts?" As he considered what to do next, an idea struck him. "Alright, let’s try this: bring back the things that got taken!"

A fog rose once more from the recesses of the space, but this time it didn’t sweep anything away. Instead, it churned at the edges of his vision, seeming both impossibly far and almost close enough to touch. The feeling made him queasy; his head throbbed, and black and white spots swam before his eyes.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" He shouted, halting the fog. The space obeyed, the fog dissipated, and the sickening sensation in his head vanished.

“Mew!” Yin'er gave Jin Shu's cheek a lick to comfort him. The feel of her rough tongue reminded him of a kitten, except hers was slightly rougher on account of being a baby tiger and all.

“This space seems to place a heavy burden on your mind,” Nano spoke as Jin Shu’s vision cleared. “It would be wise to limit yourself until we better understand its rules.”

"Good idea." Jin Shu took a step forward, approaching the floating items himself. Curiosity got the better of him, though, and he wondered if the items might sort themselves by usefulness. At his thought, they quickly organized, without the strange fog appearing.

He shuddered, remembering the fog’s effect on him, but turned his attention to the now-organized items. They floated in a line, with the most useful ones on the closest left and the least useful far to the right.

“Mew!” Yin'er watched in wonder as the items floated around.

The closest were various bullets, arranged by caliber without his prompting. The items on the right were mostly junk, like rocks, tattered books, buttons, door handles, and even a toilet. In the center was the glowing book, which seemed neither useful nor useless.

Maybe the space doesn’t know if I’ll find it useful or not, Jin Shu mused.

"Nano, can you count the amount of ammunition here?"

“Certainly! …There are 14,983 bullets of varying calibers. Would you like an exact count for each?”

"Yes."

“There are three groups of 5,000 bullets each: 9mm, 5.56, and 7.62.”

"I could outfit an entire platoon with all of that." He gave another mental command, and the bullets floated to the side. "But for now, let’s see what else is useful."

With the bullets out of the way, he could see the other items on the left. There were only two: a cellphone and a large animal fang, about the size of his head, that he didn’t recall seeing in the cave.

He brought the two items closer. "Hm, what am I going to do with a cellphone in this world? It’s not like I can make a call back to Earth, right?"

“We have an idea for this device. Would you like to hear it?”

"Shoot."

“We do not have a weapon to shoot with.”

"No, I meant… tell me."

“Ha-ha. We know; that was a joke.” Nano laughed in a strange, monotone way.

"Oh… well, what’s your idea?"

“To place one of us into the device, we could use it to display physical data. You would need to feed it qi occasionally, though, as we rely on your qi to function. Without a host, we would enter a dormant state.”

"What kind of physical data?"

“Any quantifiable data could be displayed as 3D holographics to help with your cultivation and blacksmithing.”

"Huh? Holograms? How? Cellphones don’t display holograms…" Jin Shu was beyond confused. He’d adjusted to the idea of living in a cultivation world with high-tech nanobots in his body—as much as one could to such a bizarre situation—but for whatever reason hearing what Nano said made him feel like he’d stepped into a Sci-Fi novel or something.

“Based on your memories, your people already had access to holographic technology. And even in this world there exists illusion formations that serve the same purpose. So, is it really that surprising that we, as a higher form of technology could alter your lower technology?”

“Uhh… no, no I guess not?” Jin Shu paused for a moment, reflecting on his new and old lives. ”I might be letting the memories of my last life affect me too much.”

He began to think how he would have reacted before his old memories awoke. He would have believed that the cellphone was a type of artifact and Nano would use an illusion formation to create a type of projection. For some reason, if I think about it that way, it makes more sense.

“Alright, what do we need to do?”

“You'll need to place a drop of your blood into the phone.”

“Okay.” He tried biting his fingertip, but he couldn't feel any pain and his teeth didn't tear his skin. “What the hell?”

“Either you are protected from physical harm here or we are in a kind of virtual reality. Give us a moment, we will check…”

For a split second, Jin Shu felt as if he had lost something inexplicable, as if a part of himself—something that wasn't physical —ceased to exist for a brief instance. “ Your body seems to be in a sort of trance right now, so, this is not a physical space.” Nano spoke again and the feeling left as quickly as it came. He figured that the feeling must have been caused by whatever Nano had just done.

“Hm, okay. Will do it after I find out how to leave…” He glanced at the fang floating next to the phone and the book floating further away. “First let's see what this fang and that book are.”

He grabbed the floating fang and examined it, but couldn't figure out how it was supposed to be useful. He made to toss it away, however Yin'er suddenly flew off his shoulder and grabbed the fang with her small mouth. The fang was larger than she was tall, so it was quite the comical sight.

Yin'er tried taking a bite out of the fang. They weren't physically here though, so she was unsuccessful in her attempts at taking a chunk out of it.

“Mew!!” She looked frustrated by the fact that she couldn't do anything to the fang.

“When we leave I'll give you the fang, okay?”

“Mew…” She nodded her head sadly, but in understanding.

With a mental command the book floated over, examining the cover, he found it to be titled in deep black flowing letters— Compendium of Runes and Their Crafting

As he opened the cover a bright white light flooded his vision. Coming and going in a flash.

“What just happened?”

“That book tried ‘uploading’ tons of information into your brain. We intercepted the transmission and can share it with you at any time.”

“Why'd you intercept it?”

“The amount of information would have temporarily crippled your mind.”

Jin Shu let out a breath of relief. “That sounds scary, thank you, Nano.”

“It’s wise to avoid overloading your senses,” Nano advised. “Would you like to access the information piece by piece?”

"Yeah, that sounds better." He placed his hand on the cover of the book, feeling a faint, pulsing warmth as if it was alive. This earring, and all its mysteries, was unlike anything he'd imagined.

"Alright," he said, looking around at the neatly organized items floating in the strange, starry realm. "Let’s figure out how to get back."

He closed his eyes and pictured himself standing in the cavern. Strange energy shifted around him, and he felt a pull, as if gravity itself had flipped. His vision blurred, and he found himself back in the cave, with Yin'er perched on his shoulder and Nano's calm voice in his mind.

“Welcome back, Jin Shu.”

Opening his eyes, he saw the glowing book held in his hands, solid and real. He imagined the fang appearing in his hand_._ The fang appeared in the air above the book, since he didn't have a free hand it clattered to the floor.

Yin'er pounced onto the fang, purring with joy as she nawed on it like a dog with a bone.

He took a deep breath, holding the book tightly. "I don't know what secrets this holds, but… I have a feeling things just got a lot more interesting."

Jin Shu climbed through the narrow hole in the wall, stepping over the pool of yet to dry blood. He shuddered at the sight, “hey Nano, I don't think I thanked you yet. So, thanks for saving me here.”

“We were only saving ourselves.”

“Regardless, thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The early morning light filtered through the trees, and in the foliage of one of those trees his eyes spotted a squirrel perched on a branch, its small paws and snout smeared with berry stains. The creature seemed to be watching him, its bright eyes glinting with an odd intelligence. They recognized each other instantly.

He reflexively reached for his pistol, ready to deal with the little devil. But he hesitated, glancing at the adorable little tiger cub on his shoulder. Before he could decide, Yin'er leaped off his shoulder, barreling toward the squirrel in a blur of silver fur.

The two animals clashed in a fierce flurry of claws and squeaks, Yin'er's small but sharp claws swiping as the squirrel scrambled to dodge, Yin'er's claws cut small swaths of fur from the squirrel's body. Jin Shu watched in a mixture of concern and amusement as Yin'er managed to land a blow that clipped off a small horn protruding from the squirrel's forehead. With a screech, the now partially naked and hornless squirrel leaped to another branch and scampered off, disappearing into the foliage.

With a swish of her wings Yin'er bounded back to him, looking quite pleased with herself as she held the broken horn in her mouth like a trophy. Jin Shu chuckled, scratching her behind the ears. "You’re a real little warrior, aren’t you?"

With Yin'er safely back on his shoulder, he made his way home, his clothes dusty, bloody and nearly ripped to shreds from the night’s adventures. The first rays of dawn were lighting the city as he approached his home. He spotted his mother waiting anxiously by the manor's entrance.

Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance, from his dirt-streaked face to his barely held together clothes and wild hair. But her gaze quickly landed on the tiger cub perched proudly on his shoulder.

"Shu!" She rushed over, her expression a mix of shock and dismay. "Where have you been all night!? Why are your clothes ripped!? Is this blood!!? And what is that!?"

Jin Shu opened his mouth to explain, but she cut him off, waving a hand dramatically at Yin'er. "Don’t tell me you’ve joined the Beastmaster Sect! You know I was hoping you’d join my sect instead." She placed her hands on her hips, feigning a disappointed sigh. "I even had plans to make it your personal harem!"

“Pftt!” Fan Biyu had just stepped out when she heard what Sun Mei'er said. She tried and failed to stifle her laughter.

"Mother!" Jin Shu blurted, face flushing. "It’s not like that! And Yin’er isn’t from the Beastmaster Sect…she’s just… a pet I found on the road. And besides, I can't join a female-only sect."

His mother narrowed her eyes playfully, smirking as she crossed her arms, completely ignoring his protests. "A pet, huh? Well, if you’re bringing home tiger cubs now, maybe you’ll start bringing home a few women, too. Just remember, I’ve got plenty of lovely disciples in my sect who’d be more than willing to dote on you."

Jin Shu groaned, his face turning even redder as he tried to steer the conversation away from his mother’s matchmaking. "I think I’ll stick to the path I’m on. Besides, I’ve got plenty to handle with just this one."

His mother laughed, shaking her head as she pulled him into a hug. "Fine, fine. But you’ll have to tell me all about your adventures later." She glanced at Yin’er, her expression softening. "And make sure this little one gets a bath. She looks like she’s been through a battle already."

Jin Shu let out a laugh, feeling a warmth he hadn’t realized he missed. "Sure, Mom. And thanks."

“Ah!” His mothers shout startled everyone.

“What? Why are you shouting suddenly?”

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “You called me mom!” She hugged him even tighter, refusing to let go, while he struggled to break free.

***

Jin Shu climbed into the warm bath, a reluctant tiger cub held firmly in his arms.

Splash!

“Mew!!” Yin’er flailed wildly as the water engulfed her small body.

“Calm down, it’s just a quick bath,” Jin Shu said, his tone firm but amused. Holding her still with one hand, he lathered shampoo into her fur with the other, ignoring her attempts to escape.

The moment he rinsed the suds from her coat, Yin’er sprang from the tub in a blur of wet fur, shaking water in every direction. Settling a safe distance away, she instinctively began to lick herself dry, only to recoil in horror at the lingering fragrance of the shampoo.

Jin Shu couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. His amusement earned him a sharp glare from the dripping wet furball, her small form radiating outrage despite her drenched appearance.

After finishing his bath, Jin Shu headed to his mother’s courtyard, towel draped over his shoulders. His robes hung loosely around his waist, leaving his chest bare as he absentmindedly dried his hair—a habit carried over from his previous life. Back on Earth, he’d never thought twice about going shirtless after a bath. Fabric clinging to damp skin had always been more trouble than it was worth.

“Whatever are you doing, son?”

His mother’s teasing voice broke through his thoughts, prompting Jin Shu to glance up. He froze as her expression came into focus—laughter dancing in her eyes, a hand lightly covering her mouth. But what truly caught his attention was Fan Biyu.

The young woman was staring at him, her cheeks burning with a blush so deep it spread down her neck. Her wide-eyed expression seemed torn between mortification and something else entirely.

Before Jin Shu could piece it together, his mother’s amused voice filled the silence.

“Are you trying to seduce my sweet disciple?” she asked, her tone laced with mischief.

It took Jin Shu a moment to process her words. Then he glanced down at his bare chest and realization hit. He was no longer Jin Shu of Earth. This world had its own customs and culture, and here, walking around bare-chested was far from casual. It was scandalous.

Awkwardly, he clutched the towel tighter, his cheeks warming as he muttered, “It’s not what it looks like...”

Jin Shu quickly dressed, pulling on his robes with an urgency born more of embarrassment than necessity. As he tied the sash around his waist, he thought he heard a soft sigh behind him, but dismissed it as a trick of his imagination.

Eager to change the subject, he retrieved the earring he had found in the tiger’s lair and held it out for his mother to see.

“Hmm? A spatial artifact, isn’t it? Something that stores items?” Sun Mei'er remarked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity as she examined it. “Look, I have one too.” She held up her hand, displaying a silver ring with a striking red gemstone.

Jin Shu blinked in surprise. He had always assumed the ring was a wedding band, only now realizing that such traditions didn’t exist in this world.

“Well, I know what it is,” he said, his tone steady. “I was actually wondering if you recognized it.”

His mother tilted her head, a small frown forming. “Recognize it? No… should I?”

“Uh… I guess not,” Jin Shu replied, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he brushed it aside.

Sun Mei'er seemed not to notice. Clapping her hands together, she beamed. “Anyway, I was about to teach Biyu some techniques. How about you join us?”

Despite his initial hesitation, Jin Shu agreed. The three of them moved to the training area, where his mother began her instruction with practiced ease.

For Jin Shu, however, it was a different story. Having never trained in the fighting styles of cultivators before, he struggled to keep up with the rigorous exercises and unfamiliar techniques. His body ached, and his pride took a beating, but he persisted nonetheless.

This routine continued for the next few days, with Jin Shu pushing himself to adapt to the demanding practices. Though the progress was slow, each session brought him closer to understanding the world—and the people—he had been reborn into.

Fan Biyu, ever amused by her master’s exuberance, often shot Jin Shu a sympathetic smile when he struggled to keep up with the exercises his mother demanded. Meanwhile, Yin’er, his loyal companion, basked in the attention she received, either trotting alongside him through the estate or curling up to nap on his shoulder. The little spirit beast had taken a particular liking to his mother, who delighted in playing with her whenever Jin Shu was preoccupied with his rune practice.

It was late in the afternoon a week later when an urgent message arrived for Sun Mei'er. She pulled out a flashing talisman from inside her robes. Her expression turned serious as she placed the talisman to her head, allowing the information to transmit into her mind. She rose quickly, tucking the talisman away.

“Mother? What happened?” Jin Shu asked, seeing the change in her demeanor.

She hesitated, glancing back at him with a hint of worry. “Some of my disciples have encountered a group of demonic cultivators. I need to go to them immediately.”

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself. He knew how strong she was, but still, he felt a pang of worry. “Be careful, okay?”

She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Of course. I’ll be back soon.” With a final wave, she left, leaving him to watch her retreating form until it disappeared over the estate wall.

Later that evening, Jin Shu sat in his workshop, Yin'er curled up at his feet. His thoughts kept drifting back to his mother and the dangers she might be facing right now. If only he had been able to create a weapon to protect her. He had the skills to craft powerful firearms, but after the fight with the horned squirrel and seeing how ineffective ordinary weapons could be here, he wondered if they would be enough.

Then, his gaze fell on the book—the Compendium of Runes and Their Crafting. An idea formed, and his hand moved instinctively to grab the book, flipping through its pages. Mixing runes with his weapons could be the answer, he realized. He didn’t know yet what would work best in this world, but he’d learn. For his mother, and for everyone he wanted to protect.

Jin Shu flipped open the cover of the compendium, expecting ancient secrets or profound diagrams—but the page was completely blank. “Why is this empty?”

“The book was merely a vessel for information,” Nano explained. “Think of it like a hard drive, capable of storing knowledge. It is, in essence, a type of knowledge-storing artifact.”

Jin Shu frowned. “So, what am I supposed to do with a blank book?”

“I could do one better than simply reading it to you,” Nano offered. “If you permit, I can integrate the knowledge into your cellphone, upgrading it into a data aggregation and visualization device, as we discussed before.”

“Oh, right! I’d forgotten about that.” Jin Shu reached into his space earring and pulled out his cellphone. After a moment’s hesitation, he pricked his finger with a blade and let a single drop of blood drip into the phone’s charging port. “Alright, do it.”

“Initializing redesign. Please wait…”

The phone’s screen flickered to life, the display bursting with rapid flashes of light and images, far too fast for Jin Shu’s eyes to follow. The chaos of data soon resolved into clear, fluid 3D holograms. A small bird appeared first, flapping its wings in intricate detail, followed by a man walking, and finally, a highly detailed, rotating model of Jin Shu’s pistol.

“It is complete,” Nano declared.

Jin Shu’s eyes widened as the holographic pistol floated above the phone, glowing faintly. “This is… awesome! But, uh… what exactly does it do?”

“The upgraded device can project complex, rotating 3D diagrams, such as blacksmithing techniques, weapon crafting methods, or rune placements. The holograms provide precision instructions, down to the finest detail. You can rotate and zoom in on the models, or even practice rune strokes with your finger directly on the projection to mimic the correct technique.”

Jin Shu’s excitement grew. “You loaded it with the compendium’s information too, right?”

“Yes. The compendium’s knowledge is now integrated. You can access it remotely through us or manually through the device.”

“Alright,” Jin Shu said eagerly, “show me what it can do!”

The phone’s display flickered and a book, identical to the one laying on the table, appeared floating above the screen.

“Try interacting with the hologram,” Nano suggested.

Jin Shu reached toward the floating holographic book, mimicking the motion of opening its cover. Though his hand felt nothing, the holographic book reacted, the cover flipping open to reveal the first page.

The introduction read:

‘Long ago, the origin of runes faded from the annals of time, forgotten by both man and history. Yet, in the grand tapestry of existence, their origin matters little. What truly endures is the art, the craft, and the wonder of runesmithing itself.

To those who dare tread this path, I leave you with but one mission: Discern the Runes, Forge the Runes, Transcend the Runes!’

“What’s that supposed to mean…?” Jin Shu muttered, frowning at the cryptic message.

As he turned the holographic pages, he saw runes—thousands of them. They ranged from simple, almost elegant designs to impossibly complex patterns that defied understanding. The sheer volume of information overwhelmed him, making his head spin.

Realizing he couldn’t process everything at once, he stopped flipping through the pages and returned to the first ten. These seemed manageable, and most importantly, decipherable.

The first three runes were immediately recognizable: Flame, Frost, and Wind. These were the foundational runes every runesmith learned, and Jin Shu’s grandfather—the Jin family’s first runesmith—had built his entire legacy upon them. Using these basics, his grandfather had created his own unique rune: the Explosion Rune.

Jin Shu’s eyes scanned ahead, spotting the Explosion Rune as the tenth entry in the compendium. The other six between the third and tenth were unfamiliar yet intriguing: Sharpness, Durability, Weight Increase, Weight Decrease, Qi Circulation, and Silence.

Most of these were self-explanatory, though Qi Circulation was an exception. Its description hinted at a complex, multi-layered function Jin Shu couldn’t immediately grasp.

The compendium wasn’t generous with explanations. Each rune entry displayed the pattern and a brief description, but the finer details—how to inscribe them, their exact effects, and any advanced applications—were left for him to uncover.

“Guess that explains the intro,” Jin Shu muttered. “It wants me to figure things out myself. So when it says ‘transcend,’ it probably means evolving the runes beyond their basic forms.”

Nano chimed in. “If you’d prefer, we can run simulations on the phone. That way, you won’t waste Qi while experimenting.”

Jin Shu’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a great idea!” He breathed a mental sigh of relief, recalling his last rune-inscribing experiment. “You really are a lifesaver, Nano.”

Jin Shu spent the next few hours using the holograms on the phone, that he'd named the Nanophone, to practice runescribing—the art of inscribing runes on paper, or in this case, on a holographic projection.

He was in the middle of tracing the final line of a Sharpness Rune when a cracking noise followed by a sharp yelp of pain interrupted him. Turning around he saw Yin'er with her paws against her muzzle, as if she were in pain. Laying next to her was the large fang from his space earring and a smaller bloody fang.

“What happened?” Jin Shu asked as he stepped closer to Yin’er. His eyes narrowed as he noticed her pawing at her mouth, whimpering softly. It didn’t take long to spot the cause of her distress—she had broken a fang while gnawing on the strange fang she’d been obsessing over since they found it in the space earring.

“Show me your mouth,” Jin Shu said gently, crouching to her level. “I need to see how bad it is.”

Yin’er tilted her head, clearly understanding his words, and obediently opened her mouth. Inside, where her fang had been, was a small bleeding hole.

But before Jin Shu could even reach for a remedy, something incredible happened. Right before his eyes, a new fang sprouted in the empty spot, pushing through as if nothing had happened.

“What…” Jin Shu blinked in astonishment. “Nano, what just happened? How’d she grow a new fang so fast—or at all?”

“The process resembles our nanobot regenerative capabilities,” Nano replied, his tone tinged with curiosity. “It is possible that her birth, which utilized the energy of the other nanobots, has imbued her with a unique regenerative ability.”

Jin Shu’s surprise gave way to relief. “Are you okay now?”

“Mew…” Yin’er whimpered softly, her golden eyes shimmering with lingering discomfort. Yet, before Jin Shu could intervene further, she turned right back to the broken fang and began gnawing on it again.

Jin Shu let out a helpless chuckle, torn between amusement and exasperation. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

His laughter faded as his thoughts shifted. If Yin’er had such a remarkable ability, what other surprises might she hold? But there was no time to dwell on it—he had his own challenges to face.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any to check out the cultivation technique,” Jin Shu muttered, his gaze turning serious. His mind drifted back to the moment his mother had left. If only he’d been stronger, he could have gone with her.

Though he was far more powerful than a normal human, compared to other cultivators, he was still woefully weak. But that was about to change. The technique he’d found in the strange cavern felt extraordinary—like it had been waiting for him. More importantly, it felt perfectly suited to his abilities.

Pulling the scroll from his robes, Jin Shu unfurled it carefully. His eyes scanned the instructions, his expression calm at first but growing increasingly tense with every word.

“I can’t believe I have to carve and burn runes into my flesh for the technique to work properly…” he muttered, setting the scroll down with a heavy sigh. “No wonder it came with a warning.”

He flexed his hands, steeling himself. “Guess there’s no way to know if I can handle it until I try.”

Argh!

A guttural scream ripped through the silent workshop as Jin Shu began cultivating the Body Inscribing Art.

Searing pain tore through his body, the qi within him burning like molten lava as it coursed under his skin. His entire frame trembled, sweat pouring from his brow as his vision blurred. Every nerve in his body screamed in protest, urging him to stop.

Each stroke of qi felt like a blazing blade carving through his flesh—searing not just his skin but his muscles, nerves, and even his bones. The intricate lines of the dragon's serpentine body, the tiger's fierce stripes, and the swirling clouds demanded precision and finesse. This wasn't mere craftsmanship; it was a grueling battle of will against unbearable agony.

Jin Shu gasped for air, his hands clenched into fists so tightly that his nails pierced his palms. Blood dripped to the floor, pooling beneath him. The faint glow of the design on his body taunted him, its ethereal radiance a stark contrast to his suffering.

"I... can't," he whispered, his voice trembling. The pain threatened to overwhelm him, a wave of nausea rising in his stomach. His resolve faltered as despair crept into his thoughts.

Then, a memory flashed before his eyes—his mother’s determined smile as she left to fight against demonic cultivators. Her fierce resolve ignited something within him. Jin Shu clenched his jaw, forcing his trembling body to steady.

"No," he growled through gritted teeth. "Power isn’t a luxury—it’s survival."

The image of his past life surfaced—the battles he’d fought, the monsters he’d slain. Though the enemies of his previous life were absent here, the challenges were no less daunting. Mythical beasts and immortals would demand strength beyond his current limits. His mother was out there, fighting an enemy he had never seen. The thought of her being hurt fueled a rage that burned hotter than the qi in his veins.

He slammed his fist against the worktable, shattering it into splinters. A roar tore from his throat as the dragon’s claws took shape on his skin, fierce and unyielding. The tiger’s fangs gleamed with latent strength. The mountain stood tall and unbroken, surrounded by ethereal clouds. Each stroke of qi carved a piece of his soul into the design, binding his will to his craft.

The agony was indescribable, yet Jin Shu pressed on. With each completed line, a new surge of power coursed through him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last stroke was carved.

Jin Shu collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The tattoos on his body glowed faintly, their intricate details shimmering with latent power. He traced a trembling hand over the designs, feeling the residual heat radiating from his skin.

He had done it.

Qi began to gush into the room, whipping up a small dust cloud. It poured into his body, settling in his dantian. His cultivation quickly grew from the 4th stage to the 6th stage of the Qi Realm.

Through the haze of exhaustion, a faint smile crept across his lips. The pain had been unbearable, but the power etched into his being was undeniable.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll endure whatever it takes... to protect everything I hold dear.”

The tattoos pulsed, as if answering his resolve. Jin Shu gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet. This was only the foundation. Next would come the runes, a task that would demand even more from him.

But for now, rest was essential. His flesh burned as though it were on fire; he doubted he could survive another attempt. He picked up the snoring Yin'er, who had somehow slept through his screams, and left the workshop.

***

Over the next few days, Jin Shu refrained from inscribing more runes, waiting for the burning pain of his tattoos to subside. Instead, he immersed himself in studying the runes detailed in the compendium. Mastery would be crucial if he wanted to engrave them onto his body.

The Body Inscribing Art only provided a specific set of runes for each realm of cultivation, limiting him to two sets at his current level. To access more powerful or unique runes, Jin Shu would need to learn and perfect them separately.

Fortunately, the runes from the Body Inscribing Art came with detailed instructions, unlike the compendium’s runes, which required painstaking practice to master. With the aid of Nano and the Nanophone, Jin Shu could accelerate the learning process significantly.

***

“It only took me a week to master six new runes and four older ones. That’s got to be a record,” Jin Shu mused, admiring the ten perfectly inscribed holographic runes before him.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed heavily. “Time to inscribe the first set of runes.”

He activated his qi, letting it flow through his meridians. Slowly at first, then faster, the qi grew hotter until it seared every part of his body it touched.

“Aah! It burns—like fire in my veins!” Jin Shu’s screams echoed in the workshop. He bit his lip so hard that blood dripped down his chin, but it did little to suppress his cries.

“Would you like me to temporarily suppress your pain receptors?”

“You can do that?” Jin Shu rasped, his voice strained.

“Yes, but it is risky. Prolonged suppression could harm your body.”

“Do i—no!” he interrupted, shaking his head. “If I can’t handle this, I’ll end up relying on your help. I won’t let myself become weak.”

Nano momentarily suppressed the pain, but Jin Shu immediately regretted it. He had seen people grow addicted to such relief, their willpower eroded. He couldn’t allow himself to follow that path.

The pain returned with vengeance, eliciting a guttural roar as Jin Shu pressed on. His qi carved deep black grooves into his flesh, shaping the foundational Life-Giving Rune. This rune would not only bring life to the tattoos on his back but also empower every rune that followed.

Compared to the tattoo’s intricate details, inscribing runes was a less taxing process. In a fraction of the time, Jin Shu completed the Life-Giving Rune.

This time, no tables were broken. The memory of having to order a new worktable after his last outburst had been embarrassing enough.

Jin Shu stood back, inspecting the glowing rune in a mirror he had placed to the side so he could observe the runes. A smile tugged at his lips despite the lingering pain. “One down,” he muttered. “Though this is only the beginning.”

The next rune was a Body Strengthening Rune. It would strengthen his entire body, mainly his flesh and bones so they could hold up against subsequent runes. Without this rune the normal human body would eventually give out under the strain of the runes inscribing process. Though Jin Shu didn't need to worry as much as others due to having nanobots to continuously heal his strained body.

Jin Shu slumped against the wall of his workshop, the glow of the Life-Giving Rune on his back slowly dimming as it settled into his flesh. His breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body trembling from the ordeal. For now, the pain was manageable—just a dull throb compared to the earlier torment.

A faint yawn broke through the silence.

Jin Shu’s gaze shifted to Yin’er, who was stretching her tiny paws as she blinked sleepily. She rubbed her eyes with her fluffy tail, whiskers twitching. She tilted her head, regarding him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“You’re awake,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Yin’er scampered closer, sitting her small body on his lap and sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose. “Daddy smell like… burning?” She said in a childish voice.

Jin Shu let out a tired laugh. “I do, don't I?” It took him a moment, but he freaked out a second later. “Wait! You can talk!?”

She tilted her head, staring up at him with confusion covering her furry little face. “Yin’er can talk? Oh! Yin’er can talk!” She laughed and flapped her little wings in excitement.

Nano, how is she speaking? Jin Shu asked with his thoughts.

“Unknown. Insufficient data.”

You could have just said ‘I don't know.’

“We believe it may have to do with the connection you two share, however we will need to do more research to find the exact cause of her accelerated speech.”

Settling down a moment later, Yin’er tilted her head, her whiskers twitching as she shifted in his lap. “Daddy look super tired. Daddy fight a scary beastie?”

“No beasties,” Jin Shu replied, leaning his head back against the wall. “Just me... pushing myself.”

Yin’er tapped his arm with her tiny paw, her wide eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Yin’er see Daddy’s glowy back! It so shiny! Did hurt? Did Daddy cry?”

“Cry?” Jin Shu huffed, managing a faint smile despite the exhaustion. “No. But it wasn’t fun.”

“Yin’er think Daddy look like he want to cry now,” she said, her voice softening as her ears drooped. “Why Daddy hurt himself? Yin’er not like it.”

Jin Shu glanced down at her, her innocent concern cutting through his fatigue. “I have to, Yin’er. To get stronger. So I can protect the people I care about.”

Yin’er frowned, puffing out her cheeks. “But if Daddy get too hurty, who will protect Daddy? Yin’er can’t do all by herself!”

Her words made him pause. He reached out a trembling hand to pat her head, his fingers brushing against her soft fur. “Don’t worry, Yin’er. I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.”

Yin’er tilted her head again, her tail swishing as she studied his face. “Hmm… Yin’er think Daddy being silly. Daddy should take nap! Nap make everything better!”

He chuckled weakly. “A nap does sound good right about now.”

“Yin’er is smart, huh?” she said proudly, her ears perking up. She crawled up onto his shoulder and curled around his neck like a tiny scarf. “Yin’er stay here and keep Daddy safe while he nap. No beasties get past Yin’er!”

Jin Shu couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Yin’er. I’ll rest for a bit.”

As her soft breathing settled into a gentle rhythm, Jin Shu closed his eyes, allowing himself a rare moment of peace. Yin’er’s child-like curiosity and unwavering loyalty reminded him of why he endured this pain. With her by his side, the weight of his burdens felt just a little lighter.

Over the course of two weeks, Jin Shu inscribed three new runes onto his body: the Body Strengthening Rune, the Qi Compression Rune, and the Qi Gathering Rune.

The Qi Compression Rune, as its name suggested, compressed his qi, temporarily lowering his cultivation by two stages, back to the 4th stage. However, this compression made his qi twice as potent as that of someone at the same level.

The Qi Gathering Rune allowed him to absorb qi at twice the normal rate, accelerating his cultivation speed. While impressive, it wasn’t extraordinary—his mother had once explained that the signature cultivation technique of the Immortal Phoenix Sect allowed disciples to cultivate four times faster. Unfortunately, only women could practice that technique; otherwise, she would have given it to him long ago.

Jin Shu was now searching for his father. He wanted to craft a special weapon as a gift for his mother when she returned. Though he wasn’t certain how effective a modern weapon would be against someone at her level of cultivation, the thought of her having another means of defense—especially something unique to this world—gave him peace of mind. Even if it only caught an enemy off guard, it would be worth the effort.

As he walked through the winding paths of the Jin manor, servants bowed quickly as he passed, calling out, “Young Master Jin!” He found their flattery odd. He didn’t particularly like it, but he couldn’t say he disliked it either.

The dual memories from his two lives often left him in conflict. On most matters, they aligned seamlessly, but on others, they clashed, stirring up a confusing mix of emotions.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Jin Shu focused on his current task: finding his father to gain access to the family's storage for the materials he needed.

Yet, for some reason, his father was nowhere to be found. Jin Shu had checked all the usual places—his parents’ courtyard, his father’s personal workshop, and even the outdoor forge. Each time, he came up empty-handed. If his father wasn’t out of the manor, there was only one other place left to check: his grandfather’s throne room.

Unlike others, who would face execution for possessing a throne, Jin Shu’s grandfather was an exception. The throne had been a gift from the late emperor himself, and the current emperor—a man Jin Shu called "uncle"—would never dare object. After all, Jin Shu’s mother, beloved by nobles and commoners alike, was the emperor’s doted-upon sister. She was untouchable, a living legend in her own right.

When Jin Shu finally arrived at the throne room, he found his father—or what was left of him. Lying in a puddle of blood at the center of the hall was his hulking figure.

For most, the sight would have been horrifying. For Jin Shu, it was an all-too-familiar scene. His father cultivated a bizarre technique that tempered his body like a blade—through relentless beatings. Normally, his mother handled this grueling task, but with her absent, the responsibility fell to someone stronger. The only suitable candidate in the city was Jin Shu’s grandfather, a cultivator at the 1st stage of the Spirit Realm.

At the far end of the throne room, seated atop a grand, ornate throne, was the very man in question. Jin Shu’s grandfather exuded an imposing aura, his hulking frame resting against the carved armrests as if the throne itself were barely sturdy enough to support him.

“Greetings, Grandfather.” Jin Shu bowed deeply, his voice clear and respectful.

Looking at his grandfather was like seeing an older version of his father. Their resemblance was uncanny—both stood over two meters tall, with bulging muscles that called to mind Earth’s strongest bodybuilders. They shared the same rugged features and bushy beards, though Jin Shu’s grandfather’s was streaked with light gray, contrasting with his father’s jet-black whiskers.

Jin Shu couldn’t help but feel a pang of gratitude that he had inherited his mother’s appearance. While his father and grandfather were undeniably handsome in a hulking, brutish way, Jin Shu stood apart. Tall and lean, his fair skin carried only a light tan from countless hours at the forge. His features were sharp, refined, and striking—far more reminiscent of his mother’s beauty than the rugged, almost primal looks of his male relatives.

The only similarities he shared with his father and grandfather were his height and to a lesser degree, his skin tone. Otherwise, he couldn’t have been more different—a fact for which he was quietly thankful.

Jin Shu was waiting for a response, but none came.

“Big guys are sleepies,” Yin’er said softly from her perch on his shoulder, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and amusement.

He glanced at his grandfather and noticed the old man’s eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling in time with the faint sound of snoring. As for his father, he remained sprawled on the floor, clearly unconscious—no doubt due to the sizable lump on the back of his head.

“Well,” Jin Shu muttered, “let me just get the key to the storage. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

He crouched beside his father and carefully rummaged through his robes. After a moment, his fingers brushed against a set of keys. Pulling them free, he stood and turned to leave—only to hear the faint creak of wood shifting behind him.

“Big guy wakie,” Yin’er whispered from her perch on his shoulder.

Before Jin Shu could react, something hard struck the back of his head.

Whack!

A sharp pain exploded as Jin Shu saw stars. He stumbled forward, collapsing onto his hands and knees, the keys slipping from his grasp.

“Where are you off to, little thief?” A booming voice echoed through the throne room, carrying both authority and irritation.

Jin Shu shook his head, blinking away the dizziness. As his vision stabilized, he looked up to see a massive shadow looming over him. His grandfather, towering and imposing, stood with piercing eyes locked on him. In one hand, he held a dragon-headed wooden cane, still raised and ready to strike again.

“Oh, it’s you.” The older man lowered the cane, his expression softening. “What are you doing here, grandson?”

Jin Shu rubbed the sore spot on his head as he rose to his feet, careful to maintain a respectful tone despite his irritation. “I came to ask for permission to access the storage,” he explained. “I need special metals for a weapon I’m crafting for Mother.”

His grandfather's stern expression melted into approval. “A gift for your mother, eh? Admirable. You have my permission.” He turned to retrieve something from beside the throne, then gestured toward the keys now lying on the floor. “But no sneaking around next time. Speak up like a man. If you’re caught skulking, I’ll assume you’re up to no good.”

“Yes, Grandfather.” Jin Shu bowed, suppressing a sigh as he picked up the keys. He should have known his grandfather wouldn’t let anything slide.

“Here.” The older man extended his hand, a rope holding a key dangling before Jin Shu’s eyes.

Jin Shu frowned slightly, taking the key with uncertainty. “What is this?”

“It’s the key to my personal storage. You can ask the chief steward for its location.”

Jin Shu bowed deeply. “Thank you, Grandfather!” He turned, eager to leave, but paused when he felt his grandfather’s gaze still locked on him.

“Hold on a moment.” His grandfather stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “Your qi... It feels different.”

Jin Shu straightened, tilting his head. “Different how?”

The older man’s eyes sharpened further as he evaluated his grandson. “You’ve advanced,” he said after a moment. “You’re at the 4th stage of the Qi Realm.”

Jin Shu nodded. “Yes, I made a breakthrough a little less than two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago?” His grandfather’s brows shot up in disbelief. “You’ve reached the 4th stage in just two weeks since breaking through to the Qi Realm from the Body Realm? That’s...” He trailed off, astonishment evident. “That’s unheard of.”

Jin Shu hesitated. He hadn’t planned to reveal the runes inscribed on his body, knowing his grandfather might react with skepticism—or worse, disapproval. But under the weight of his grandfather’s intense gaze, he felt compelled to explain at least part of the truth.

“I stumbled upon a fortuitous encounter,” he said cautiously. “And I’ve been using some... unique methods to enhance my cultivation.”

“Unique methods?” His grandfather raised a bushy eyebrow. “What kind of methods?”

After a moment of deliberation, Jin Shu said, “I discovered a cultivation technique that requires me to inscribe runes on my body. Namely, the Qi Gathering Rune and the Qi Compression Rune. Together, they help me cultivate faster and strengthen my qi.”

His grandfather stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Runes, hmm? Interesting. That’s not a path I’ve heard of. But use caution—rushing ahead without understanding the risks can be dangerous.”

“I know,” Jin Shu said, meeting his grandfather’s gaze with determination. “But it’s effective. And if I want to protect Mother—and this family—I can’t afford to be ordinary.”

The older man studied him for a long moment before nodding. “Good,” he said simply. “You have ambition, and you’re willing to take risks. But be careful, Jin Shu. Ambition without discipline is a blade without a hilt—it’ll cut you down just as easily as your enemies.”

Jin Shu bowed again. “Thank you for your guidance, Grandfather.”

“Go on, then. Collect your materials. But come back when you’re done—I want to see how you’re progressing.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Jin Shu said, stepping back.

“Wait!” his grandfather called out again, making a grasping motion with his hand.

To Jin Shu’s shock, Yin’er suddenly appeared in the old man’s open palm. She was too stunned to protest, her fur bristling as she looked around in confusion.

“Grandfather?” Jin Shu asked cautiously, worry tightening in his chest.

“Hmm?” The older man glanced at him and chuckled at his expression. “Ah, don’t worry, I won’t harm your little pet.”

“Thank you,” Jin Shu said, relief washing over him.

“Was this the fortuitous encounter you spoke of?”

“Um, partially, yes.”

“I see. I heard her talking. What an interesting little creature.”

“Yin’er not a little creature! Yin’er is Yin’er!” she growled, puffing up indignantly.

His grandfather’s booming laugh filled the room. “Ahahaha! Fierce, isn’t she? I like her!”

Yin’er puffed out her chest proudly, her tiny face alight with satisfaction.

“Alright, go on now.”

Jin Shu turned and left the throne room, Yin’er quietly chittering her approval as she settled back onto his shoulder.

As he walked, Jin Shu felt a flicker of pride. His grandfather’s acknowledgment wasn’t given lightly, and it strengthened his resolve. There was much to do, and little time to waste.

Jin Shu carefully arranged the rare materials he had retrieved from his father’s and grandfather’s storages. Each metal was so valuable that it could buy a mansion in Black Mountain City on its own, and together they were worth more than the entire city. But for what he intended to craft, only the finest would do.

Each of the four metals held unique properties that would ensure the weapon's superiority. Black Iron would serve as the base, providing unmatched durability. Black Gold, known for its natural qi absorption, would enhance the weapon's ability to harmonize with its wielder. Rose Gold, chosen for its vibrant hue—his mother’s favorite color—also had a rare ability to strengthen other metals. Finally, Quicksilver would act as a perfect conduit for the intricate runes he planned to inscribe.

A fond memory surfaced as he prepared the materials. He recalled the day he gifted his mother a pair of rose gold earrings, years before his memories of his past life returned. She had fallen in love with the color, insisting that any future gifts from him include it. Jin Shu couldn’t help but smile; this weapon wasn’t just a tool—it was a tribute to her.

He activated his Nanophone, summoning a holographic blueprint of a weapon he had admired in his previous life: a Glock 19. It was simple, reliable, and effective—everything a weapon meant for self-defense should be. But before crafting his mother’s gift, he would test his skills on a personal project. Swiping to another blueprint, he revealed the design of an M110A1 CSASS Sniper Rifle.

The blacksmithing process began with a stirring of Jin Shu's qi as he sat cross-legged in front of a forge powered by spiritual flames. Channeling his qi through his dantian, he extended his hands over the materials. A faint glow surrounded him as his qi connected with the metals, analyzing their essence and binding their energies together.

He began with Black Iron, heating it until it glowed white-hot under the spiritual flames. His qi infused the metal as he hammered it, reinforcing its structure and ensuring its durability. Each strike resonated with his cultivation, the force tempered by precise bursts of qi that spread evenly through the metal.

Next came Black Gold, its molten state shimmering with a dark luster as he poured it over the Black Iron core. Manipulating his qi, he guided the metals to merge seamlessly, their essences intertwining. The resulting alloy pulsed faintly with a natural rhythm, proof of Black Gold's qi-conducting properties.

Rose Gold followed, its vibrant hue reflecting in the forge’s glow. As he worked, Jin Shu carefully balanced the infusion of his qi to amplify the strengthening effect it imparted on the alloy. However, as the Rose Gold spread over the weapon, its distinctive coloration began to dominate the surface.

Jin Shu paused, holding the partially formed weapon aloft. A realization struck him: while Rose Gold was perfect for his mother’s gift, a pink-tinted sniper rifle would be… less than ideal for his personal use. His face reddened slightly at the thought of unveiling such a weapon in battle.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this,” he muttered, shaking his head.

He quickly reached for another ingot of Black Gold and heated it to a molten state. This time, he infused it with more qi, ensuring it would fully bond with the Rose Gold and overtake its coloration. Pouring the enriched Black Gold over the weapon, he channeled his cultivation to guide the merging process, layering the darker alloy over the bright surface.

As the hues blended, Jin Shu focused intently, ensuring the qi flow within the metals remained harmonious. Gradually, the sniper rifle took on the sleek, dark sheen of Black Gold, with only the faintest hints of Rose Gold peeking through in subtle, decorative streaks.

He exhaled in relief. “Much better. A sniper rifle should look intimidating, not like a gift for a princess.”

Finally, he added Quicksilver in thin, flowing channels, creating an intricate lattice within the weapon’s core. These channels would serve as conduits for the runes, allowing them to activate with minimal qi expenditure. Jin Shu’s cultivation surged as he etched the pathways, the spiritual energy within him vibrating in harmony with the alloy.

Once the base structure was complete, Jin Shu moved to inscribe the runes. The Inscribing Needle in his hand glowed faintly with concentrated qi, humming as he guided it over the weapon’s surface. Each stroke demanded unwavering focus, the patterns needing to align perfectly with the flow of energy embedded within the alloy. As the runes took shape, they pulsed faintly, signaling their successful activation.

First, he carved a Durability Rune, designed to further enhance the weapon’s tenacity, ensuring it could endure prolonged use without fail. Next came a Silence Rune, crafted to muffle the sound of bullets firing, allowing him to remain hidden during ambushes or stealth missions.

He paused, momentarily satisfied, but an absurd thought began to form in the back of his mind. What if he added an Explosion Rune to the firing mechanism? Would it propel the bullet with greater force, increasing its power and range? The idea seemed reckless—potentially dangerous—but curiosity quickly overpowered caution.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he muttered with a small smirk.

Carefully, Jin Shu etched the Explosion Rune into the firing chamber, channeling his qi meticulously to avoid disrupting the delicate balance of the other runes. When he finished, the sniper rifle gleamed with a muted, otherworldly sheen.

He held it up, inspecting the craftsmanship. The weight felt perfect, the energy within the weapon flowed seamlessly, and the runes glimmered faintly in the dim light. Yet as he admired his creation, a sudden realization struck him.

“Hmm? It doesn’t have a scope…” He furrowed his brow. “Uh, I’m not sure how to forge glass, so I guess I’ll have to make do with iron sights for now.” With a wry smile, he shrugged. “Well, at least the structure is perfect. Although I won’t know if it works until I try it.”

Jin Shu set the rifle aside, his expression calm but tinged with satisfaction. The first step was complete. Now came the true challenge—perfecting the weapon that would one day protect the woman who had always protected him.

Crossing his legs, Jin Shu began to meditate, restoring the qi he had expended during the forging process. His breathing slowed as he sank into a trance, energy flowing smoothly through his meridians.

I’ll make the structure of Mother’s gun first before I test the rifle. Then, if the runes work as intended, I’ll inscribe them onto her weapon, he thought, his resolve solidifying as he focused on replenishing his strength.

The time it takes for an incense stick to burn passed before Jin Shu reopened his eyes, his qi fully restored. Without hesitation, he rose to his feet and returned to the forge, ready to begin again.

He started by heating the Black Iron, his qi surging through his hands as he stoked the spiritual flames. The metal glowed white-hot, and Jin Shu’s hammer struck with rhythmic precision. Each strike was imbued with his qi, molding the iron into shape while enhancing its strength. Slowly but surely, the foundation of his mother’s gun began to take form.

Hours passed as Jin Shu worked meticulously, each step executed with unwavering precision. He wasn’t in any rush—what he sought was perfection, and only perfection would suffice. Anything less was unacceptable.

Just as he began putting the finishing touches on his work, a sudden, deafening crash echoed through the workshop, shattering his focus. It sounded like a cascade of metal objects colliding violently, followed by a pained yelp.

“Daddy! Help!!”

His heart clenched at the sound of Yin’er’s voice. Forgetting the forge entirely, Jin Shu whipped around, his gaze locking onto the far corner of the workshop. His blood ran cold as he saw Yin’er pinned beneath a fallen shelf, her small body trapped under its weight.

“Hold on!” he shouted, already sprinting across the expansive workshop. He cursed himself for keeping such a large, cluttered space, the distance between them feeling unbearable in that moment.

Reaching her, he grabbed the heavy shelf and, with a surge of qi-fueled strength, heaved it off her. The shelf crashed into the wall, shattering into splinters from the sheer force of his throw.

Dropping to his knees, Jin Shu gently cradled Yin’er in his arms, his hands trembling as he examined her for injuries. His stomach twisted when he noticed her wings bent at unnatural angles, blood staining her delicate feathers. His breath hitched as he spotted the faint glint of bone peeking through.

“I’m so sorry, Yin’er,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Hold on, I’ll get you help.”

Without a second thought, he moved to carry her out of the workshop. But before he reached the door, her wings twitched weakly. He froze, watching in stunned disbelief as the jagged bones realigned themselves, feathers regrowing over the wounds. Her injuries began to heal right before his eyes, just as they had when her tooth mended days prior.

Jin Shu let out a shaky exhale, relief washing over him like a wave. “You’re healing… just like before,” he murmured, cradling her closer. Though the immediate danger had passed, his hands didn’t stop trembling. The sight of her hurt—even briefly—was something he never wanted to experience again.

Boooom!!

An ungodly noise echoed through the mountainous forest, reverberating off the cliffs and weaving through the trees. A moment later, a massive three-meter-thick tree groaned and collapsed, its trunk blasted apart by a Honda Civic-sized hole.

“Haha! I love this thing!” Jin Shu shouted, though his ears were still ringing from the deafening report of the sniper rifle. He grinned but let out a resigned sigh. “I just wish the Silence Rune had worked… Then again, the noise might be useful for surprising and disorienting enemies.”

“You may need to inscribe the bullets with the Silence Rune for it to be effective," Nano chimed in.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Jin Shu muttered. “Still, that’s going to take a lot of work…”

He heaved another sigh as the rifle in his hands began to glow softly, vanishing in an instant. In its place appeared a pink-and-black Glock 19, which he turned over in his hands thoughtfully.

His shoulders sagged as he remembered the circumstances of its creation. While crafting the pistol, Yin’er had hurt herself, and he’d left the weapon in the forge to go help her. By the time he returned, one side of the gun had been scorched black. With the last of his rose gold, he’d made adjustments, carving his mother’s name—Sun Mei'er—into the blackened side and inlaying it with the precious metal. He hadn’t had enough material to reforge it entirely, so he’d done the best he could.

As his mind wandered, Yin’er darted through the foliage of distant trees before landing lightly on his shoulder. “Daddy, no more loud noises?” she asked, her tone tinged with a not so subtle hint of boredom.

Jin Shu snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of her voice. “No, there’s going to be one more. Go back, I don’t want you hurting your ears, okay?”

“Boo! Stinky Daddy!” she cried out, puffing up her cheeks in mock anger. Still, she flew off, flitting through the trees. On her way, she spotted a horned squirrel and immediately started a scuffle with it.

Jin Shu chuckled as he watched her chase the poor creature through the underbrush. “Don’t go too far,” he called out, concern creeping into his voice.

She glanced back at him but gave no response, neither agreeing nor refusing to stay close. He shook his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. He wasn’t too worried, though—he could sense her location through the bond they shared.

For now, he let her be. Shifting his focus back to the task at hand, Jin Shu glanced down at the pistol in his hand. He had come here to test the weapons he’d forged weeks ago.

He raised the gun, his mother’s future gift, and prepared to test it. Aiming down the sights, he took a deep breath, letting the rustling of the wind through the trees guide him. The cool breeze brushed against his skin, the earthly scents from the forest relaxing his body as he noted the direction the winds carried them, adjusting his aim accordingly.

Exhaling slowly, he squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

The pistol recoiled in his grip as the bullet shot forward. A soft thunk followed, marking its impact against a nearby tree trunk. Unlike the sniper rifle, there was no earth-shaking boom or oversized hole. Those effects were the result of the runes he’d painstakingly inscribed into the larger weapon.

For now, his mother’s gun had no runes. He was waiting until he could master more advanced inscriptions. Weapons could only support so many runes before the strain caused them to break, and this pistol needed to last. He wanted it to be perfect—he’d already botched the forging process once. He couldn’t afford to make another mistake with the runes.

Just as he prepared to test the weapons further, a piercing scream carried on the wind reached his ears. Dread gripped his heart, and his first thought was Yin’er. But as he focused on their connection, relief swept over him. She was safe and in the opposite direction of the scream.

Still, he tugged at their bond to call her back. He couldn’t send her thoughts, but he could push emotions and subtly manipulate the thread that linked them.

Moments later, Yin’er appeared, darting through the trees. She came flying toward him, a squirming squirrel clamped tightly in her jaw.

“Whaf’s wwong?” she mumbled through the struggling animal.

Jin Shu stifled a laugh. “Let the squirrel go first.”

Her furry face scrunched up in reluctance, but after a moment of contemplation, she spat the squirrel out. The poor creature scrambled off, chittering angrily as it disappeared into the foliage.

“What?” she huffed, irritation clear in her tone as her little whiskers twitched in annoyance.

Jin Shu almost laughed again but managed to keep his composure. “There was screaming—something bad might’ve happened nearby.” His tone grew serious as he explained the situation.

Aah!!

Another scream pierced the air, this one much closer.

“Wait… I think I recognize that voice…” Jin Shu murmured, his brow furrowing. He couldn’t place it yet, but something about the scream felt familiar.

“Based on speech recognition, that is the voice of your mother’s disciple, Fan Biyu,” Nano informed him.

“What? Are you sure?”

“99% certain.”

“Shit! Let’s go!” Jin Shu barked, taking off in the direction of the scream.

Yin’er fluttered after him, her small wings beating frantically. If it really was Fan Biyu, that meant his mother couldn’t be far. And judging by the desperation in her voice, Fan Biyu was in serious trouble.

As Jin Shu sprinted through the forest, weaving between trees and vaulting over rocks and tangled roots, memories of the last time he’d run through these woods surfaced. “It can’t be a Winged Tiger,” he thought. Surely, a beast like that wouldn’t push Fan Biyu to scream so desperately.

He refused to believe it. He’d seen her training with his mother. He’d even sparred with her once. Fan Biyu’s cultivation was leagues above his, and her combat techniques were, at the very least, on par with his own.

The memory of their sparring session flashed through his mind—her hands igniting with a vivid red fire as she struck his chest with a blazing palm. If she hadn’t held back at the last moment, he might still be recovering from the injuries. Just the thought of it sent a shiver racing down his spine.

Shaking the memory from his head, he pressed onward. The forest suddenly thinned, giving way to a clearing. There, three men stood over the prone form of a young woman. Her face was obscured, but Jin Shu’s gut twisted. Fan Biyu.

He crouched at the edge of the clearing, his breathing steadying as he focused on the men’s conversation.

“Hehehe! We’ve finally caught you, pretty little lady. You really gave us a run for our money, didn’t you?” sneered the man on the right, his voice dripping with malice.

“You didn’t actually think you could get away, did you?” mocked the one on the left, grinning cruelly.

The man in the middle leaned forward, his voice low and twisted with glee. “Now that we’ve caught you, we can return in time to enjoy both master and disciple. Ahahaha!”

Boom!!

A deafening crack shattered the tension as the middle man’s head erupted in a spray of blood and brain matter. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Jin Shu lowered the sniper rifle, as the bullet continued traveling, shattering a few trees in the distance, his breathing still calm as the remaining two men froze, drenched in the gore of their companion. His mind had been composed, focused on assessing the situation. But when they mentioned his mother, he snapped. Killing the man had brought him a flicker of calm, but he wasn’t done. If he’d started killing, he might as well finish the job—after getting some answers.

In a blink, the sniper rifle vanished, replaced by an M17 pistol in his hand.

The two surviving men, still stunned, hadn’t even registered what had happened before Jin Shu fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Four shots rang out in rapid succession. The bullets tore into the men’s knees with precision, shattering bone and cartilage. They collapsed to the ground with strangled screams, writhing in pain as they clutched at their ruined legs.

Jin Shu stepped into the clearing, the faint smell of gunpowder mingling with the metallic tang of blood in the air. His voice was cold as ice. “Time to talk.” He spat the words out through his grit teeth.

Jin Shu drove a qi-infused stomp into the man’s knee. The joint twisted with a sickening crack, eliciting a pained scream.

"Aah! Don’t… please… w-what do you want from me?!" the man blubbered, tears and snot streaking his scarred, contorted face.

Jin Shu’s cold gaze froze him in place. "You’re going to answer some questions. If you don’t—"

Bang! A deafening shot rang out as Jin Shu fired a bullet into the throat of the other nearby man.

The second man staggered, clutching his neck as blood poured through his fingers. His gurgled cries lasted only seconds before he collapsed, lifeless.

"—something even worse will happen to you." Jin Shu’s voice was calm, detached, as he turned back to the last survivor. The man was trembling uncontrollably now, his eyes wide with terror.

"I-I’ll answer! I’ll answer! Just… don’t kill me!" he stammered, nodding frantically.

"That depends on whether or not you tell the truth."

"W-what… w-what do you want to know?"

"Why were you chasing her? And where is her master?" Jin Shu gestured toward Fan Biyu, lying unconscious a few feet away. His gaze flicked to her for a moment, silently calculating how much time he could afford to waste on this.

"If… if I answer… will you let me live?"

"Answer. Now. Or I’ll put a few more holes in you," Jin Shu replied, his voice low and menacing.

The man flinched, stumbling over his words. "W-we were chasing the girl to ra—"

Bang!

The man screamed as blood seeped from a fresh wound in his leg. "Aaah! Why?!"

"Answer the other question." Jin Shu’s jaw tightened, his qi roiling with suppressed fury. He didn’t need to hear the rest—he already knew the man’s vile intent.

The man sobbed, clutching his wounded leg. "H-her master is to the east! She’s fighting our b-bosses! W-we’re just l-lackeys, I swear!"

Jin Shu’s eyes narrowed as he glanced toward the east. For a moment, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision set him on edge. He tensed, prepared for another threat, only to see a bird burst from a nearby bush, chirping as it flew away. He exhaled softly, his gaze returning to the man trembling at his feet.

The man looked up with wide, desperate eyes. "Y-you’ll let me go now… right?"

Jin Shu’s expression darkened, his voice cold and unyielding. "Sure. You can go."

Bang!

"To the afterlife."

He stood silently, watching as the light drained from the man’s eyes. His cold detachment wavered when a pained groan cut through the stillness, pulling him back to the present.

Shit, Biyu!

He spun around to find Fan Biyu struggling to sit up, her movements weak and shaky. In an instant, he was at her side.

“Biyu, are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern as he gently helped her into a sitting position.

“Who…?” she murmured, her eyes fluttering half-closed.

“It’s Jin Shu,” he said quickly, steadying her.

“Jin Shu!” Her hands clutched at his robes as her body trembled with strain. “M-master… where’s my master?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, trying to keep his voice calm. “The men chasing you said she was fighting to the east. My mother’s strong—I’m sure she’s fine,” he added, as much to reassure himself as her. “But why were they chasing you? Who were these men?”

“We… we… on our way…” Biyu’s voice faltered, her words fragmented as her eyelids drooped. “...to your… your home… they… ambushed us… demonic… cultivators…” Her voice faded into silence as her body went limp, falling unconscious in his arms.

“Biyu! Fan Biyu!” Jin Shu shook her lightly, panic creeping into his tone. “Shit!”

“Nano! What’s her condition?”

“She is suffering from severe blood loss, in addition to other internal injuries that are not immediately visible," the nanobots replied in their neutral tone.

Only now did Jin Shu notice the dark stain of blood pooling beneath her. His heart sank.

“Damn it! We need to get her treated, but I have to find my mother!” He gritted his teeth, torn between his priorities. “Nano, can you treat her like you healed me?”

“We cannot,” Nano responded. “We are bonded to your DNA on a molecular level and can only be used by you or someone with a similar DNA structure.”

Jin Shu cursed under his breath. His mind raced as he considered his options, his frustration mounting with every second.

“Damn it!” Jin Shu punched the ground before standing, clutching Fan Biyu tightly in his arms. “First, we have to get her to a doctor. Mother will be fine… she has to be,” he muttered, more to reassure himself than anything.

He turned and rushed back the way he had come, his steps quick and purposeful. Ahead, he spotted Yin’er flying toward him, her tiny wings flapping sluggishly.

“Huff… D-daddy… y-you’re too fast…” she wheezed, landing shakily on his shoulder. “What… what’s wrong with her…?”

“Do you remember her? She’s my mother’s disciple. You met her a month ago… or maybe longer? I don’t know. That doesn’t matter now. She got hurt by bad guys, so we need to get her treated.”

Yin’er tilted her head, finally catching her breath. “Why doesn’t she heal like me or Daddy?”

“Uh… we’re a bit special,” Jin Shu explained hurriedly. “Only we—well, I think only we—can heal wounds really fast.”

“Oh, okay!” Yin’er chirped, accepting the explanation without further question.

***

Jin Shu paced anxiously in the courtyard of Black Mountain City’s best physician. Half an hour had passed since he’d arrived with the injured Fan Biyu, but there was still no word on her condition.

Just as he considered barging into the treatment room, the doors creaked open. Dr. Bai and his assistant stepped out, their faces etched with exhaustion.

Jin Shu rushed toward them. “Dr. Bai, how is she?”

“Haa… she’ll live,” Dr. Bai sighed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow. “However, she’s in a coma from the severity of her injuries. It’s unclear when—or if—she’ll wake up.”

“A coma? And there’s nothing more you can do?”

“I’ve done my best, Young Master Jin,” Dr. Bai said, shaking his head. “I’m only a mundane physician. If you can find a Divine Physician, they may be able to do more for her.”

“A Divine Physician?” Jin Shu asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“They’re cultivators who specialize in healing other cultivators,” Dr. Bai explained, swaying slightly from exhaustion.

Jin Shu noticed the wobble in the older man’s legs and the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Thank you, Doctor. You should rest now.”

Dr. Bai nodded weakly, shuffling toward a side room. Halfway there, he paused and turned back. “If you’re looking for a Divine Physician, I’d suggest speaking to your uncle. As the Emperor, he should have the connections to find one.”

“Thank you for the advice!” Jin Shu called after him, watching as the doctor disappeared into the room.

“Young Master Jin,” the assistant said hesitantly, “would you mind helping me move Miss Fan to a patient room? I-I’d do it myself, but… I’m quite exhausted from the treatment.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jin Shu replied. Then, as he thought about his words, he added, “Though ‘fine’ isn’t the right word, is it?”

The assistant chuckled softly at his fumbling. Jin Shu blinked, momentarily distracted by how cute she looked when she smiled. What the hell am I thinking? I’m not some pubescent teenag—oh, wait, I am a teenager in this world…

Shaking off the errant thought, he stepped forward to help carry Fan Biyu to another room.

***

“Thank you for your help.” The assistant bowed politely once Fan Biyu was settled.

“No need to thank me. It’s me who should thank you for treating my friend. Truly, thank you.”

She giggled lightly, then excused herself to rest, leaving Jin Shu alone in the room with Fan Biyu.

He sat down beside her bed, his thoughts drifting back to the scene in the clearing where he’d found her. His worry for his mother resurfaced, as did memories of the anger that had consumed him when the men spoke about her.

What is wrong with me? he wondered, leaning back in his chair. I’ve never been so rash before. And why are my emotions so intense?

He rubbed his temples, his mind churning. In my memories, I wasn’t like this in either of my lives. Is this a side effect of reincarnation? Two sets of memories… double the emotions? He frowned. I also have this strange obsession with seeking my mother’s affection. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a mother in my last life… But it wasn’t like this before my memories awoke. What’s happening to me?

Jin Shu sighed deeply, his gaze lingering on Fan Biyu’s unconscious form. Whatever it is, I need to focus. I’ll work on calming my emotions in the future.

Leaning forward, he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered for a moment before he pulled back. But first, I need to find Mother.

Straightening in the chair, he whispered, “I’ll be back soon,” even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

With a determined breath, he stood and left the room.

Though he was leaving Fan Biyu behind, he vowed he would return for her with a Divine Physician to heal her.