The leaves withered as winter settled in. The sun lingered on the horizon, the warmth slowly fading, while the stars above grew brighter, peeking through the darkening sky as the moon gradually claimed dominion.
One by one, the streetlights flickered to life, casting pale glows over the empty streets. Winter kept most people indoors; the town lay in a rare, quiet stillness.
Inside a bustling garden, a young man sat slouched, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed his face, evidence of countless sleepless nights.
The lamp post before him flickered, attracting a swarm of tiny flies that circled the light. Ye Kaishan exhaled softly, gazing up at the star-studded sky.
"Sigh… Even after working three shifts, I still can't keep up with university fees and rent," he muttered.
He looked barely twenty, yet the fatigue in his expression made him seem older. Two worn bags lay beside him on the bench, his only belongings.
"Should I just drop out? If I keep this up, I'll collapse before I graduate… and hospital bills aren't cheap either."
He glanced at the clock mounted on the nearby statue — a few minutes before eight.
"After nine, my night shift starts," he murmured, his tone dull and lifeless. "Maybe I should take a short nap…"
His vision blurred as his consciousness wavered. But then—
"Huh? What's that…?"
A flicker caught his eye. On the grassy ground before him, the air itself seemed to twist and ripple, like space was distorting.
Ye Kaishan squinted, trying to focus. From within the warped air, a tiny seed slipped out of the void and landed softly on the ground, glowing faintly with golden light.
"Am I… this tired?" He let out a weak laugh. "I'm even starting to hallucinate now."
Still, curiosity sparked within him. He stood slowly, eyes fixed on the radiant seed. It didn't vanish — if anything, its glow pulsed stronger.
He crouched down, reaching out to touch it—
Dong! Dong!
The clock struck eight. Ye Kaishan flinched and began to pull his hand back—
But the seed suddenly moved.
It darted forward like lightning and pierced straight into his chest.
"Wait—what!?"
His body trembled violently as his surroundings warped. Waves of strange power rippled through the air — space itself shattering around him.
"W-what's happening?!" he shouted, but before he could comprehend, he was swallowed by the distortion.
.....
A vast sea of darkness stretched endlessly.
Within it floated a lone figure, his hair drifting weightlessly around him. No sound, no light — only the eternal void.
"How long… has it been?" Ye Kaishan thought weakly, his consciousness fading.
He chuckled bitterly.
"Doesn't matter… I just want to sleep."
And as his eyelids closed, the darkness embraced him completely.
.....
After an unknown time in the sea of darkness, a faint glimmer of awareness returned to Ye Kaishan.
"Ugh… where am I? and What is this place?"
Ye Kaishan's voice echoed through the endless void, fading into silence. He wasn't even sure if he had spoken aloud.
"The last thing I remember… yes that seed and that...ye kaishan's head hurt as he tried to recall when he was in that sea of darkness
after a moment his memories cleared as he slowly remembered the scenes that he saw in the sea of darkness
In the boundless river of the cosmos, a lone tree stood in silence.Its vast branches and shimmering leaves carried the might of space and time, weaving the laws of existence itself.
Yet, its end had come. The divine power it once held began to scatter across the heavens and earth, fading into eternity.
As its final act of nirvana, the cosmic tree shed its grandeur—and from its essence, a small seed was born, pulsing with the light of rebirth.
He gasped as the vision faded, his breath catching in his throat.What was that tree... and that seed?
He tried to move, but nothing answered. His limbs, his breath, even his heartbeat—gone. Around him stretched a suffocating darkness. No sound. No light. No warmth. It felt as though he was floating in a lifeless abyss—perhaps even worse than death itself.
Just as despair began to sink in, a faint blue glow flickered before him. A translucent screen emerged from the darkness, hovering weightlessly like a lone star in the void.
"A… screen?" he muttered, disbelief flickering in his tone. "Finally… light."
The glowing panel trembled, then began to shift—blurred shapes forming into clearer images.
Ye Kaishan focused."A forest? Mountains… and people?"
The vision sharpened. Several figures stood in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees. They wore long robes bound with silk sashes and adorned with ornaments—dressed like characters from some ethereal world. Their gazes were all fixed on one girl in the center.
"Song Yan, just give up already," one girl sneered. "A stone can't dream of flying. Even if you're the matriarch's daughter."
"You reached the Soul Spirit Realm at eight," another mocked. "Back then, everyone thought you'd become a legend."
"But twelve years later, you're still stuck there," a third added coldly. "You're nothing but a fallen genius. We've already reached the Dao Companion Fusion Realm."
"We've connected with our Dao companions and created our Grotto Heavens," another said proudly. "You, on the other hand, are still alone."
Song Yan stood silently among them, unmoving. Her face was calm, too calm. Skin pale as jade, brows fine as ink strokes, and eyes deep as still water. Even in humiliation, she carried herself with an unshaken grace—like a fallen fairy who refused to bow before mortals.
Ye Kaishan stared through the screen, his breath caught. "She's… beautiful. No woman I've ever seen—no star, no idol from Blue Star—can compare."
A flicker of resentment crossed Song Yan's gaze, but she said nothing. Turning away, she walked through the sneers and laughter, her steps quiet and composed. The forest wind brushed her hair as she left, dignity intact.
She returned to a quiet courtyard and sat cross-legged upon a jade slab, the moonlight caressing her face.
"In this life too… I cannot sense my Dao companion," she whispered.
"In the Soul Spirit Continent, those who fail to awaken their Dao companion cannot progress. I was the Void Empress in my past life—once at the peak of the Soul Emperor Realm, relying on a Soul Heavenly Treasure to ascend."
Her voice softened, touched with melancholy. "But even that treasure had its limits. To reach the Starry Sky Realm… to go beyond who I once was… I must find my Dao companion."
Her hands tightened on her knees.
"I ruled for thirty thousand years, yet died by the hands of the Ten Empresses of the Fairy Court—all because I never awakened him. This time… I must."
Ye Kaishan shivered—if he still had a body, his hair would've stood on end.
Reborn? A peak expert from another life?
Then suddenly—pain. A searing ache exploded inside his head. Golden runes blazed to life within his soul space. A tiny sapling appeared—its leaves shimmering with hues of blue and green, releasing ripples of time and space.
"What… what is this?"
Instinct took over. He reached toward it, and the moment his will brushed the sapling, a burst of golden light enveloped him. Knowledge poured into his mind like an endless tide.
Space-Time Soul Tree
Lines of glowing information intertwined, filling him with profound understanding. A skill tree—alive, bound to his soul—carrying powers that governed space, time, and spirit.
And through it, fragments of the world's truth surfaced.
"This is a world ruled by female cultivators. Men exist only as their Dao companions. When a woman reaches the Soul Spirit Realm, she forms a soul link that guides her to her fated partner. Without him, her path ends forever."
Ye Kaishan's eyes widened.
"So… I'm her Dao companion?"
His consciousness trembled. "She hasn't sensed me yet… The Soul Tree—it's hiding me within her soul space. But now… I can feel something returning. My form… and a trace of control over time and space."
He focused. A pulse of energy rippled outward. For a brief instant, he sensed the faint flow of time—and the thread of teleportation itself.
"I need to observe her more carefully. But one thing's certain… I've been transmigrated as the Dao companion of a reborn Empress."
The vision dimmed.
That night, Song Yan lay in her bed, eyes half open beneath the moonlight, her delicate brows furrowed as though haunted by something unseen.
When morning came, she rose quietly and made her way to her parents' residence.
The Song Clan was a mid-tier power—ranked eighth on the Soul Spirit Continent. Their sect sprawled beneath the towering Mylan Mountain, surrounded by mist-veiled forests. Pavilions, training fields, and elegant courtyards stretched for miles like a jade city.
Disciples trained in neat formations as Song Yan passed, her steps soundless, her presence calm yet distant.
She entered her mother's chamber.
Inside, a graceful woman sat before a mirror, her long hair cascading like black silk. Behind her stood a man, combing it gently—Song Qian and her Dao companion, Song Yan's father.
"Mother. Father." Song Yan bowed deeply.
Song Qian turned, a warm smile softening her refined features. She rose and pulled her daughter into an embrace.
"Yan'er," she said softly, "I was just thinking of you. I may have found a way to help you awaken your Dao companion."
"Mother… you don't have to do this." Song Yan's tone was gentle but firm. "You've already sacrificed too much for me. Because of me, your influence in the clan has waned."
"Don't say that," Song Qian chided gently, taking her daughter's hand. "You'll find him. I know you will."
Her father smiled faintly. "We both believe in you."
Song Yan lowered her gaze. "It's been twelve years, and I've made no progress. After all this time… I no longer care about that.
I came to tell you—I'm going to the Loman Forest."
"Loman forest?!"
Song Qian's expression shifted, her brows furrowing. "The Loman Forest is dangerous! no, you can't go there!"
"I'm not going inside," Song Yan replied calmly.
"The Loman Flower grows near the edge. It can temper the soul. I wish to gather some for Song Wu—she recently entered the Soul Spirit Realm. It might help her awaken her companion."
Song Qian hesitated, torn between fear and pride.
Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder. "Qian, let her go. She's capable—and she knows her limits."
Song Qian's sighed softly. "…Fine. But promise me, don't set foot inside that forest. Pick the flowers and return at once."
"I promise."
"Go, then. Before I change my mind," her mother said softly.
"Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Father." Song Yan bowed once more and turned to leave, her robes brushing against the door as she slipped out.
As the sound of her steps faded, Song Qian exhaled slowly, her eyes clouded with worry.
"She hides her pain too well…"