The silence of the meditation room was a stark contrast to the storm brewing within Li Tian. He sat cross-legged, the stillness of his posture belying the chaotic surge of memories flooding his mind – a torrent from two lifetimes crashing together, demanding reconciliation. He painstakingly organized the fragments, weaving the experiences of a struggling Earthling into the consciousness of a cultivator born to privilege.
Once the initial tempest subsided, he drew a deep breath, sinking back into the familiar rhythm of meditation, yet peace remained elusive. His brow furrowed, a grimace twisting his lips.
"Fool," his inner voice snarled, sharp with self-reproach. "An utter, irredeemable fool." The sentiment echoed in the tightness of his chest, a physical manifestation of regret so potent he almost wanted to physically strike his past self – the self of this life.
This Li Tian, the reincarnated one, had embraced the cultivator's path with ruthless single-mindedness. "Just like them," he thought bitterly, recalling the detached, power-hungry figures that populated the cultivation world. "Alone. Driven. Cold." From childhood, he'd systematically stripped away his own emotions, viewing them as weaknesses, distractions from the pursuit of power. He'd become, in his own estimation, an emotionless bastard, utterly oblivious to the feelings of those around him.
"But why?" The question echoed in the cavern of his mind, louder now than it ever had been during his relentless training. "What was the damned point of cultivating so hard, only to become… this?"
He probed deeper, pushing past the ingrained habits of emotional suppression. A flicker of a memory, faint and almost forgotten, surfaced. A young boy, brimming with naive determination, vowing to reach the pinnacle, just like the legendary ancestors of the Li Clan. "I wanted power," he remembered, the ghost of that childhood ambition feeling foreign yet familiar. "Power to protect…"
Images flashed – his father's steady gaze, his mother's gentle smile, the mischievous grin of his younger brother, the bright eyes of his little sister in this life. "I wanted to shield them, to build a world where they were safe."
But the path of cultivation had been insidious. Each small advancement, each victory, had demanded a sliver of his humanity. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, the warmth had leached away. The vibrant dream faded, replaced by the stark, grey pursuit of the next realm. His family, the very reason he'd started, became hazy figures in the periphery, their importance dwindling until they were almost forgotten footnotes in his relentless climb.
Li Tian ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of pure annoyance. "Gods," he muttered aloud, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room. "I became the cliché. The cold-blooded cultivator obsessed only with power levels." A dry, humourless chuckle escaped him. "I never even lived like the young master I was! Never threw my weight around, never demanded the best table at the fanciest restaurant just because I could." He paused, a different kind of bitterness creeping into his voice. "And the most ridiculous part? After two lifetimes… still a virgin." The chuckle this time was undeniably tinged with self-pity.
"How laughable," he continued, his voice softening into a melancholic murmur. "Absolutely pathetic." His thoughts drifted back again, to the other life, the one that felt both distant and painfully immediate. "On Earth, I was Li Tian, born with nothing but a sharp mind and calloused hands. Worked myself to the bone, graduated top of my class… for what? A dead-end job while spoiled rich kids from college walked into positions handed to them on silver platters."
He shook his head, the memory sharp and clear. "Never had a chance to just… enjoy things. Not really." His focus narrowed onto a single, precious image: his little sister, Mei. "Had to take care of Mei. Always." The accident that claimed their parents when she was just ten remained a raw wound. "Suddenly, it was just us. She was my world… my only reason."
His breath hitched. "But I couldn't even give her the life she deserved. Remembered seeing her stare at that doll in the shop window for weeks? Couldn't afford it. The cheap sweets I bought her… they weren't the same ones her friends had." Tears welled, hot and unexpected, blurring his vision. "I failed her. Even then, I failed her."
The thought spiraled. What happened to Mei after he died on Earth? The image assaulted him: his little sister, alone, crying herself to sleep night after night, mourning the brother who couldn't even provide for her, let alone protect her. The sheer unfairness of it, the crushing weight of his failure, built into an unbearable pressure within him. It clawed its way up his throat, erupting from his lips in a raw, primal sound, a negation of that desolate future.
"NO!"
The scream tore through the oppressive silence of the meditation chamber, echoing off the stone walls, fueled by anguish and a desperate, burgeoning resolve. It wasn't just a sound; it was a vow.
"I can't leave her like that! I won't!" His mind raced, frantic. "There has to be a way. There must be a way to go back! To change it! To bring her here!"
Driven by a sudden, fierce urgency, Li Tian plunged into the depths of his consciousness, not just his own memories, but the vast, ocean-like legacy inherited from the jade pendant – the lifetime's worth of knowledge from an Immortal Emperor. He navigated the swirling currents of information, searching, grasping for anything, any clue, any forgotten technique. It felt like searching for a single grain of sand on an endless beach. "Space… time… manipulating reality… is it even possible?" Doubt warred with desperation.
Then, a glimmer.
Amidst the esoteric cultivation theories and cosmic insights, a specific set of principles resonated – complex, almost impossibly demanding, involving the fundamental laws of spacetime. A method began to coalesce in his mind, not some simple trick, but an awe-inspiring feat: the creation of a Temporal Gate. It required control over space and time laws to a degree that seemed mythical, a power wielded only by cultivators who had transcended mortality itself – the True Immortal realm.
A massive wave of relief washed over him, so potent it left him breathless. Hope, bright and fierce, surged through his veins. "He left this… the Emperor… he knew…" Gratitude towards the ancient expert who had inadvertently provided this lifeline filled him. He had found it. A path.
"Thank the heavens," Li Tian whispered, his voice trembling slightly. He clenched his fists, the earlier despair replaced by a pulsating sense of purpose. "The Immortal Emperor's legacy… it holds the key. A Temporal Gate... I can go back. I can appear on Earth right after my death." The implications settled, profound and world-altering. "I can find Mei. Bring her back here, to this world, through the same gate." A burden he hadn't even fully realized he was carrying began to lift. "No eternal regrets. I can fix this."
He remembered the cramped, drafty house on Earth. The smell of cheap noodles, the feel of the thin blankets Mei and he huddled under during cold nights. He saw Mei's face, full of trust and love for her inadequate older brother. He even recalled the sting of rejection, the sharp slap and the mocking words – "a poor bastard lusting after a swan" – from the girl he'd foolishly confessed to in his youth.
And the contrast struck him anew, sharper than ever. "Here," he breathed, looking around the well-appointed meditation room, a symbol of the luxury he'd taken for granted. "Here, I had everything. A loving father and mother. Elders who doted on me." Images of his current family surfaced – his sturdy, reliable brother; his bright, cheerful little sister; and his two wives, women of peerless beauty and grace, whose devotion he had consistently ignored. "Goddesses, both of them… and I treated them like air." The weight of his neglect in this life settled heavily upon him. "I almost threw it all away… chasing power for a reason I'd forgotten."
"Mei, I'm coming back for you," he vowed silently. "And Father, Mother, Lin'er, Rou'er… Cultivators… I was wrong. I hope… I hope I can still make it right here, too."
…
Outside the heavy doors of the ancestral meditation grounds, the piercing scream ripped through the relative tranquility of the Li Clan's main territory. It wasn't just loud; it carried an undercurrent of raw power and emotion that made cultivators pause mid-stride, their spiritual senses tingling.
Heads snapped up. Guards patrolling the perimeter tensed, hands moving instinctively towards their weapons. Disciples sparring in the training yards stumbled, exchanging bewildered glances. Even elders meditating in their own secluded courtyards felt the disturbance ripple through the clan's protective formations.
Near the main square, two outer clan members, tasked with supervising resource distribution, stopped their conversation abruptly.
"Brother Feng, did you hear that?" asked the younger of the two, eyes wide as he stared towards the forbidden ancestral grounds looming in the distance. "That came from inside the Ancestral Grounds!"
Brother Feng, a grizzled man with decades of service to the clan, frowned, his gaze sharp. "Unmistakable. And full of... something fierce. Despair? Rage?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"The three Ancestors are in deep seclusion there. Who in the nine hells would dare make such a noise?"
"Exactly!" the younger man hissed, leaning closer. "To scream like that in the Ancestral Grounds? It's not just disrespecting the living Ancestors in seclusion; it's profaning the resting place of generations! Does this person want their entire lineage wiped out for offending the spirits?"
A third clan member, overseeing a nearby delivery cart, overheard and ambled closer, his expression a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "You think it's an outsider? An attack?"
Brother Feng shook his head slowly. "Unlikely. The formations around the grounds are ancient and powerful. No simple intruder could get in, let alone scream like that without being instantly obliterated." He paused, considering. "No, this felt... internal. Perhaps a breakthrough gone catastrophically wrong? Or maybe..."
"Maybe what, Brother Feng?" the younger man prompted eagerly.
"Maybe it's someone powerful enough to believe they can disregard the sanctity," Feng finished, his voice low. "Someone incredibly strong, or incredibly foolish. Remember young Master Zhao from the branch family fifty years back? Tried to force his way in to plead for resources after his father was punished. The formations turned him to ash before he even touched the gate."
"This felt different, though," the third man chimed in. "Zhao's was a shout of desperation. This… this scream had Qi behind it. Real power. And agony."
"Indeed," agreed Feng, his eyes still fixed on the distant structure. "Which makes it all the more baffling. To possess such power and yet unleash such a sound in that sacred place…." He fell silent, a sense of unease settling over the small group.
The air crackled with unspoken questions and nervous energy. Whispers began to spread like wildfire throughout the clan territory. Who had screamed? Why? And what would the consequences be for disturbing the most revered place within the Li Clan?
Everyone sensed that something significant, something potentially disruptive, had just occurred, and they waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. The spectacle, whether born of bravery or lunacy, was about to unfold.