The moment the words left his lips, an overwhelming wave of pain erupted from the depths of his mind.
It was the torrent of eight hundred years of memories, crushing violently against this fragile eighteen-year-old brain. Every neuron trembled. Every trace of true essence boiled.
His vision blurred. The 1998 calendar on the wall twisted and warped. The mechanical sounds outside transformed into apocalyptic thunder.
"Damn it... this body... can't contain..."
Li Mingzhen groaned and collapsed into darkness.
When Li Mingzhen woke again, dusk had fallen.
This time, the soul-tearing agony was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of lightness.
His body felt too light.
A hundred and eight years of soul crammed into an eighteen-year-old shell—like a grown man forced into childhood clothes. Nothing fit. Everything felt wrong.
He sat up and looked at his hands.
Slender, smooth, free of calluses or any trace of time. The skin between his fingers was so delicate it was almost translucent, revealing blue veins flowing beneath the surface.
These were the hands of an eighteen-year-old.
Not the hands of a thirty-eight-year-old who'd wielded scalpels, written countless prescriptions, saved countless lives.
Not the hands of a hundred-and-eight-year-old who'd buried his wife and daughter, who'd kept vigil over their graves alone for seventy years.
These were the hands of a boy fresh out of high school, newly admitted to university, full of hope for the future.
Li Mingzhen clenched his fists.
The strength was pitiful.
He could feel the firmness of young muscle, but compared to his Nascent Soul days, when a single punch could shatter boulders, this body was as weak as paper.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and turned his awareness inward to his dantian.
Inside, only a thread-thin wisp of true essence trickled weakly.
Early Foundation Establishment.
Even weaker than when he'd first begun cultivating in his previous life.
And moreover...
Li Mingzhen tried to circulate his true essence,attemptingd to accelerate its flow.
The moment he tried, an invisible force pressed down—like an unseen hand clamping his dantian shut.
"The Heavenly Lock..."
He murmured the words.
This was the "seal" the beggar had mentioned. No matter how hard he tried, his cultivation could never break through Foundation Establishment. The ceiling of this body had been locked in place by the laws of time itself.
Li Mingzhen opened his eyes and smiled bitterly.
Falling from Nascent Soul to Foundation Establishment—the drop was like being able to soar through the heavens one moment, then being forced to crawl on the ground the next.
But... it wasn't entirely without benefit.
At least he was still alive.
At least he still had a chance.
Li Mingzhen stood and surveyed his surroundings.
A crude dormitory shed.
Corrugated tin roof, concrete floor, partitions made of wooden boards and canvas. The space was small—maybe ten square meters—fitted with four sets of metal bunk beds, each piled with bedding and miscellaneous items.
The air reeked of sweat, cigarette smoke, and cheap laundry detergent.
This was standard worker housing on a 1998 Chinese construction site.
Li Mingzhen walked to the window and looked out through the grimy glass.
Outside: a bustling construction zone.
Tower cranes rotated slowly overhead. Excavators churned in pits below. Workers in filthy coveralls hauled steel rebar and concrete back and forth. In the distance, he could make out Beijing's skyline—not the glittering forest of skyscrapers from 2088, but the 1998 version: still touched by ancient simplicity, chaos, and vital energy.
The sky hung gray and hazy. The air carried the scent of coal smoke and dust.
Yet Li Mingzhen found it... comforting.
This was the smell of his memories.
In his first life, he'd worked on sites just like this. He'd been eighteen then too—freshly admitted to university, working summer jobs to earn tuition.
Back then, Chen Yuxin hadn't appeared yet.
Master Qingxu hadn't transmitted his legacy.
Nothing had begun.
"Back to the starting point..." Li Mingzhen said softly.
But this time, he was no longer that ignorant youth.
He was a time traveler carrying a hundred and eight years of memories, eight hundred years of knowledge, and the bitter lessons of countless failures.
Li Mingzhen sat on the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, and began organizing his memories.
This was essential.
Three sets of memories now coexisted in his mind:
The first set: Master Qingxu's eight hundred years.
This was the largest, most complex memory archive. Eight centuries of cultivation experience, countless techniques and secret methods, astronomy and geography, feng shui and divination, medicine and alchemy, formations and talismans... virtually the entirety of the cultivation world's knowledge.
But these memories weren't entirely "his"—they were more like a vast library. He could consult them at any time, but retrieval took effort.
The second set: His first life's ninety years.
From the 2008 earthquake and meeting Qingxu, to Chen Yuxin's death in 2018, to Li Tianyue's passing and his own tribulation in 2088. These were memories he'd lived personally, etched bone-deep. Every detail remained crystal clear.
The third set: "This life's" eighteen years.
These were the strangest memories.
Strictly speaking, "this life's Li Mingzhen" wasn't him at all. It was the version that had always existed in this timeline—an orphan raised in a welfare institution, academically excellent, newly admitted to a Beijing university, working a construction job to earn tuition during summer break.
But when his soul occupied this body, the original occupant's memories had automatically merged with his consciousness.
As if... two Li Mingzhens had become one.
Li Mingzhen rubbed his temples.
Three sets of memories coexisting gave him a headache. But he had to adapt.
He began sorting:
Knowledge of the dragon veins...
Qingxu's memories contained extensive records about dragon veins. China's three main dragons, the precise locations of the Nine Great Acupoints, legends of the Dragon Pearls, historical methods for repairing dragon veins...
Li Mingzhen called them up one by one in his mind, cataloging them.
Memories of 1998...
In his first life, he hadn't encountered cultivation until 2008. Back in 1998, he'd been an ordinary college student, completely ignorant of feng shui and divination.
But now it was different.
Now he possessed eight hundred years of knowledge. He could use it to begin laying the groundwork a full decade early.
About Chen Yuxin...
Li Mingzhen's heartbeat suddenly quickened.
1998... Chen Yuxin would be nineteen, a second-year medical student.
According to his first life's trajectory, they'd meet in 2009—when Yuxin was already thirty, a practicing surgeon. The catalyst would be her brother Chen Haoran's drunk driving accident. Li Mingzhen would save him using cultivation medicine.
Then Chen Guowei would learn of Li Mingzhen's medical skills and ask him to treat his liver cancer.
After the cure, Li Mingzhen would begin teaching the Chen family the Eight Vajra Exercises, and during that process, he and Chen Yuxin would fall in love...
But that was his first life's path.
The prerequisites were:
The 2008 earthquake had to occurLi Mingzhen had to meet Qingxu during the disasterOnly after receiving the legacy would he have the medical skills to save Chen Haoran
But now...
Li Mingzhen already possessed Qingxu's legacy.
He didn't need to wait for the 2008 earthquake.
He could establish himself through medicine, feng shui, and divination right now.
So then...
"Should I seek her out early?"
Li Mingzhen hesitated.
It was July 1998. Chen Yuxin should be in her second year, perhaps interning at a hospital over summer break, or perhaps at home.
If he sought her out now...
No. That wasn't right.
Li Mingzhen shook his head.
The current Chen Yuxin was nineteen, still a student.
His soul was a hundred and eight years old.
The age gap was... grotesque.
Moreover, when they'd met in his first life, Chen Yuxin had been a mature thirty-year-old woma, —tempered by medical school, witness to life and death, her character forged strong.
That Chen Yuxin was the one he'd fallen in love with.
The nineteen-year-old Chen Yuxin... was still just a girl.
"No... I can't rush this."
Li Mingzhen took a deep breath.
Besides, the beggar had warned: act carefully, don't be impulsive.
If he appeared before Chen Yuxin rashly and altered her growth trajectory from nineteen to thirty...
Would she still be the Chen Yuxin from his memories?
Or would she become someone completely different?
"First, repair the dragon veins," Li Mingzhen told himself. "Complete the mission. As for Yuxin..."
"I'll wait until she's thirty. Wait until she becomes that strong surgeon. Wait until she faces difficulties and needs help... then I'll appear."
"Just like the first life."
"Except this time, I'll be prepared in advance. I won't let tragedy repeat itself."
With this resolution, Li Mingzhen's heart settled somewhat.
Eleven years.
He had eleven years to prepare.
Li Mingzhen stood and walked to a small mirror in the corner of the dormitory.
The mirror was old, its edges rusted, its glass mottled with spots.
But it still reflected a recognizable image.
Li Mingzhen studied himself.
An eighteen-year-old face—tender, green, carrying that particular stubbornness unique to youth.
Skin somewhat darkened from working in the sun. Hair cropped short for convenience. Frame on the thin side due to inadequate nutrition.
This face... was nearly identical to his first life.
But the eyes were different.
The eyes in the mirror were too deep.
Too deep for an eighteen-year-old to possess.
These were eyes that had witnessed life and death, experienced dramatic rises and falls, and kept a lonely vigil over graves for seventy years.
The eyes of a hundred-and-eight-year-old soul.
"Need to hide that..." Li Mingzhen murmured.
If others saw eyes like these, they'd definitely become suspicious.
An eighteen-year-old shouldn't have eyes like this.
Li Mingzhen took a deep breath and tried to relax his facial muscles, make his expression... younger, more carefree.
He practiced in the mirror a few times.
The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
Barely passable.
"Forget it," he gave up. "I'll just avoid eye contact when I can."
Li Mingzhen stepped out of the dormitory.
Beijing in July hit him with a wave of heat.
Sunlight glared. The air is thick with dust and sweat. The construction site roared with noise on all sides—power drills whining, hammers pounding, workers shouting, walkie-talkies crackling.
This was 1998, China's most common scene.
Massive construction.
Building everywhere.
Li Mingzhen squinted at the site before him.
A residential development project—six high-rise apartment buildings under construction. Three had already reached a dozen floors or more. The other three were still having their foundations laid.
The site was enormous, covering perhaps a hundred thousand square meters.
Li Mingzhen walked slowly, appearing to wander aimlessly while actually employing the Art of Observing Qi.
Observing Qi was one of the fundamental skills of feng shui masters. By watching the flow of heaven and earth's energies, one could determine a location's fortune or misfortune.
Though his cultivation had fallen to early Foundation Establishment, the Art of Observing Qi didn't require high cultivation—only sufficient knowledge and keen perception.
Li Mingzhen released his spiritual sense (weak though it was) and felt the surrounding energy field.
Then...
His expression changed.
Above the construction site hung a faint layer of gray-black vapor.
Not dust. Not smog. But... sha qi—inauspicious energy.
Death qi, resentment qi, malevolent sha—all mixed together like a dark cloud pressing down over the site.
And this sha was still gathering.
Like pus seeping from a wound, more and more.
"Something's wrong..." Li Mingzhen frowned.
A normal construction site shouldn't have sha this heavy.
While construction did disturb earth qi, that caused only temporary chaos—not concentrated malevolence this thick.
Unless...
Li Mingzhen walked to the northwestern corner of the site.
Here was a deep pit, perhaps fifteen meters down—the foundation for one of the buildings.
An excavator worked in the pit below. Workers hauled steel rebar.
But Li Mingzhen's attention wasn't on them.
He crouched and touched the soil at the pit's edge.
The soil... was cold.
Not the coolness of being in shade, but a bone-deep, piercing cold.
Like...
"Corpse qi?" Li Mingzhen's heart sank.
He closed his eyes and circulated the meager true essence of early Foundation Establishment, sensing carefully.
A moment later, he opened his eyes, his expression grim.
"There's something buried underground here."
Not just one or two bodies.
Many.
He stood and surveyed the area.
The entire northwestern corner of the site carried this bone-chilling aura.
If he wasn't mistaken...
This land, long ago, might have been a mass grave, an execution ground, or a mortuary.
Large numbers of remains are buried underground.
And now, the construction and foundation excavation had disturbed these dead, causing resentment to leak out and form sha.
If this wasn't handled...
"There will be accidents," Li Mingzhen murmured.
And not just accidents.
He carefully recalled Qingxu's memories about dragon veins and suddenly realized a more serious problem—
This construction site's location...
He closed his eyes and called up Beijing's dragon vein map in his mind.
Beijing, anciently called Yanjing, was a critical node of the Northern Dragon Vein.
And this construction site's position...
Li Mingzhen's pupils contracted sharply.
"This place... is where a tributary of the Northern Dragon passes!"
If this site continued construction, it wouldn't just disturb the dead and accumulate sha—it would damage the underground dragon vein tributary!
Though only a tributary, not the main vein, sustained damage would still affect the entire Northern Dragon's health.
"Must stop this..."
Li Mingzhen was turning to leave when he heard a cry of alarm behind him.
"Look out!"
Followed by the sharp crack of breaking steel and the rumble of falling weight.
Li Mingzhen whipped around—
In the northwestern pit, a steel rebar being hoisted had suddenly snapped. Several tons of steel plummeted from mid-air, falling toward the workers at the bottom!
End of Chapter 2