It was the exact same eye he had found inside that underwater ruin, the one that had killed him without leaving even a trace of resistance. The sight of it here, in this desolate place, made his mind tremble with disbelief.
"What are the chances…? Seriously?" Li Chen muttered, his voice echoing faintly across the barren expanse. "Did this thing actually follow me after reincarnation?"
His foot slipped slightly on the cracked ground as he stepped back, yet his gaze remained firmly locked on the relic. Even as instinct told him to run, something deeper kept him rooted in place.
"It's like a cursed stray cat," he muttered, his tone turning dry despite the situation. "Except instead of me feeding it, it keeps trying to murder me."
Before he could decide whether to run, kick it away, or simply scream, the world around him fractured like shattered glass. The space twisted violently, as if reality itself had been peeled apart and rewritten.
In the next instant, he found himself floating in the void once more. The familiar emptiness surrounded him, endless and silent, pressing against his awareness from all directions.
He frowned as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, but something ahead caught his attention almost immediately. A faint glow drifted in the darkness, distant yet unmistakably familiar.
It took him a moment to recognize it, and when he did, his entire being turned cold. The realization struck him harder than anything he had experienced so far.
There he was.
His soul—wrapped tightly inside a cocoon of golden light—drifting through the void exactly as before. The edges of the cocoon flickered faintly, as though suspended within an eternal current beyond time.
Li Chen stared, first confused, then slowly overcome by a growing sense of horror. The scene felt wrong in a way he could not properly describe.
"What is this? Was all of that a dream? Am I dreaming now? Or am I still stuck in this damn void?"
Suddenly, the void twisted violently, like someone had seized his vision and turned it inside out without warning. The distant cocoon lurched closer, its form blurring as the perspective collapsed in on itself.
In the next instant, everything snapped into place again. However, this time he was no longer observing from afar.
He was inside it.
Inside his own soul-shell, staring outward as if he had exchanged places with the drifting version of himself. The shift was so disorienting it made his thoughts spin, even though this form had no body to feel with.
He tried to move, forcing his will against whatever held him in place. Nothing responded, and the silence of his own inability made the situation even worse.
He wasn't truly "himself." He was a trapped observer, sealed behind an invisible barrier, watching his own curled, unconscious body resting within the cocoon of golden light.
At first, he thought it was just a repeated image, some strange reflection or illusion. Then his gaze caught something that made his thoughts freeze entirely.
The thing on his forehead.
The eye—embedded into his skin exactly like the one from before, faintly glowing with an unsettling and quiet radiance. It did not feel foreign. That was what made it terrifying.
"What… no. No way." His thoughts trembled uncontrollably. "This damn thing is on me now?"
The eye flickered with a faint pulse, so subtle it might have been missed under normal circumstances. Yet in this stillness, it felt overwhelmingly clear.
It felt like it was about to open.
A heartbeat later, agony detonated inside his consciousness. The pain was not physical, nor was it something he could endure through willpower.
It was as if countless needles pierced directly into his mind, shredding thought itself into fragments. The intensity was so overwhelming he could not even scream, his awareness collapsing under the pressure.
His vision shattered completely. Everything turned white.
And in that exact instant—
—he opened his eyes.
He lay on his back, staring up at a familiar wooden ceiling that grounded him back into reality. The sudden shift left him dazed, his thoughts lagging behind his senses.
He was back. Back in his infant body.
"Huh. Little thing, you're awake already?"
Li Chen froze instantly, the unfamiliar voice snapping him out of his daze. The tone carried casual curiosity, but to him, it felt like a direct threat.
He tilted his tiny head upward and saw a man leaning over him. The man had chestnut-brown hair, a thin and careless beard, and wore light armor with a sword sheathed at his waist.
And who exactly is this supposed to be?
Li Chen's tiny eyes nearly bulged as he stared at the unfamiliar figure. His instincts screamed at him to remain still, even as his thoughts raced.
The man's gaze narrowed slightly, curiosity flashing within it. "Strange. Why aren't you crying?"
Crying? Li Chen cursed inwardly, frustration rising instantly. Does he seriously think I'm actually a baby?!
"Hm… newborns don't stop crying. Not this early," the man muttered, frowning as if deeply analyzing something important. His tone suggested genuine confusion rather than suspicion.
Who is this guy? Li Chen felt a faint prickle of unease creeping through his thoughts. Is he already suspicious of me?
Should I pretend to cry? The idea surfaced briefly, only to be rejected just as quickly. No… that'll just make things worse!
"Lin Wei, stop bothering him." Lin Zheng walked over, letting out a small chuckle as he approached. His presence carried a calm familiarity that softened the tension slightly.
"Bothering? Hah?" Lin Wei raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by the accusation. "I'm not bothering him."
He gave the baby another strange look before suddenly laughing. "If anything, I think he likes me."
Likes who? Li Chen nearly rolled his eyes, though his tiny body remained still. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him.
While Li Chen was still trying to process everything, the two men settled beside the cradle. Their conversation shifted naturally, as if the earlier tension had never existed.
Lin Zheng's gaze softened slightly as he looked down at the child resting in the cradle.
"…He should have a name."
Liu Yulan, who had been standing nearby, lifted her eyes toward him. Her expression was calm, yet there was a faint expectation within it, as though she had already anticipated this moment.
"You've already decided?"
Lin Zheng hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. His decision seemed firm, not something made on impulse, but something that had been considered long ago.
"…Lin Yuan."
Lin Wei's eyes flickered with surprise, his brows lifting slightly as he glanced at Lin Zheng. "You have already decided his path?"
Liu Yulan repeated it softly, letting the name linger on her tongue. "Yuan…"
Her expression softened, a gentle warmth returning to her eyes as she reflected on its meaning. "Origin… beginning…"
Lin Zheng let out a quiet sigh, his gaze lingering on the child. "After what you told us, it's better to leave it that way."
Lin Wei remained silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if reassessing something deeper than what could be seen on the surface. His earlier casual demeanor faded, replaced by the seriousness of someone accustomed to judging potential and fate.
"Indeed," Lin Wei said at last, his tone turning measured and precise. "The boy's condition is… problematic."
He stepped closer, his gaze focusing on the infant as though trying to peer beneath flesh and bone.
"His meridians are faint and incomplete, as if they never fully formed. The pathways that should guide spiritual energy are fragmented, some even entirely missing."
He paused briefly, then continued, his voice lowering slightly.
"His spiritual root is not simply weak—it is fractured. Even if he attempts to cultivate, the energy will scatter before it can take shape."
Lin Zheng's expression darkened, though he did not interrupt.
Lin Wei exhaled slowly. "As for the Inner Sun… there is no seed, mostly like a barren."
The room fell quiet for a moment as the weight of those words settled.
Liu Yulan clenched her teeth, her hands tightening at her sides. "It's all because of me. If I hadn't been so reckless… if I hadn't fallen into that trap…"
Lin Zheng chuckled softly, though there was no real humor in it. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"You were in mortal danger," he said gently. "Let alone saving an unborn child—just you surviving is already a blessing."
Lin Wei glanced between them, his expression softening slightly, though his words remained blunt.
"Even so," he said, "his body shows signs of having been damaged before birth. His foundation was never allowed to complete itself. Under normal circumstances, such a condition would not even result in survival."
He crossed his arms, his tone turning more reflective.
"At best, he will live as an ordinary mortal. His lifespan may reach a hundred years if he avoids illness and misfortune, but beyond that… there is little possibility."
Liu Yulan lowered her gaze, her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to suppress the guilt rising within her.
Lin Zheng remained silent for a moment before speaking again, his voice steady despite everything.
"No matter what his fate is… he starts from here."
From nothing, yet not nothing.
Li Chen—no, Lin Yuan—blinked slowly as the name settled into his mind, along with everything that followed it. The meaning of it lingered, heavier than he expected.
Lin Yuan?
He let out a silent sigh within his thoughts, resignation mixing with faint disbelief. Guess I don't get a say in this either.
One hundred years? That's not bad, right? People in my world usually don't even pass eighty.
What he didn't know was that in this world, ordinary mortals—without cultivation, without accidents—could live up to four hundred years.
Lin Wei crossed his arms, glancing between the two of them before letting out a faint smirk, though it lacked his earlier ease.
"Let's just hope… fate has something kinder in store for this one."
Lin Yuan stared up at them, unable to respond, his tiny body remaining still and silent. His thoughts lingered on what he had just heard, circling endlessly without resolution.
Inner Sun… barren…
The words echoed faintly in his mind, carrying a weight he could not yet fully understand. They felt like a verdict, even if he did not yet know the crime.
Before he could sink deeper into those thoughts, exhaustion overtook him once again. His consciousness faded quietly, slipping away without resistance.
And darkness claimed him.