Night draped the small village in a heavy, breathless silence. No breeze stirred, no insects sang—only the faint creak of old wood under the weight of time.
In an abandoned house, lit by the dim glow of a single lantern, sat a young boy.
Lin Xuan.
Sixteen years old.
Last heir of a fallen clan.
He sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, his breathing slow and controlled, his face drained of all color. Under the tattered cloth around his waist, a sickly, blackened mark pulsed like a dying ember—a curse that had been eating away at him for as long as he could remember.
Yet tonight, something changed.
A tremor ran through his body.
A thread of strange warmth slipped into his veins, awakening a sensation he had never felt before.
"…What is this?" he whispered.
The lantern flickered.
The shadows bent.
And from the darkness behind him, a cold voice echoed:
"Finally awake… descendant of the Lin."
Lin Xuan's eyes widened. He spun around, but there was no one—only a vague silhouette swirling like smoke, watching him from the corner of the room.
His pulse pounded. "Who are you?"
The shadow chuckled, low and amused.
"A remnant. A whisper of blood long forgotten.
Your clan died, but not everything was erased."
A wave of pain stabbed through his chest. Lin Xuan gritted his teeth, clutching his heart as the corrupted mark on his body writhed like something alive.
Images flashed through his mind—embers, screams, a courtyard soaked in blood.
"Stop…!"
He tried to force the visions away, but they grew clearer, sharper… suffocating.
The shadow stepped forward, its presence crushing yet strangely familiar.
"Listen carefully, boy.
You are the last thread of a destiny that should have been severed."
The lantern's flame flared violently.
"If you survive this night… your path will begin."
Lin Xuan's vision blurred. His breath grew shallow. The world shook.
Then—something inside him broke.
A surge of foreign energy, cold and ancient, rushed into his body, tearing through his crippled meridians, forcing them open with ruthless force.
He screamed.
Outside, the villagers heard nothing.
The world remained silent.
Inside the abandoned house, a young boy trembled between life and death, illuminated by a trembling flame.
And deep within the darkness, the shadow whispered:
"Awaken, Lin Xuan…
for the heavens have not finished crushing you."