Kssshhhh... kssshhhh...
A sharp, incessant static drilled into Lin Rui's brain like a thousand red-hot needles. He spasmed as a tide of agony washed over him, feeling as if his bones were shattering piece by piece.
Consciousness was a foundering ship in a void of darkness and pain.
He felt torn in two. Or perhaps, two souls were trapped in the same body, brutally colliding. One was himself—Lin Rui, from the neon-drenched nightlife of Los Angeles, the man who'd taken a bullet on a rainy night. The other was filled with a bitter indignation, a despair carved into its very bones.
But… I'm already dead, aren't I?
The cold rain, his partner's face a blur of neon-slicked clarity, the pain that tore through his chest… it had all felt so real. So what was this?
Chaotic images flooded his mind like a broken dam. The Tanxiao Realm, Qingluo Prefecture, Zhuyun Town, a family clan… and…
Spirit-Corroding Powder.
The two words flashed through his consciousness like a blood-red brand. A sinister chill surfaced with them. His instincts, honed in his past life as a private investigator, latched onto the potent malice in that name.
This poison didn't just target the body. It was… eroding something deeper.
As the thought crossed his mind, the static grew more piercing. A distorted, grayscale image filled his vision, like a failing signal on an old television. Behind it, something seemed to squirm, to watch.
The agony intensified.
Just then, his hand reflexively clenched the object he'd been holding. It was a scroll of some kind, calm and supple to the touch. A faint but vital coolness flowed from it, seeping into his limbs like spring rain on parched earth. The bone-deep agony was suppressed, just slightly.
Like a drowning man grasping at a final straw, he clung to that single thread of coolness with every ounce of his remaining consciousness.
An unknown amount of time passed. The cool energy trickled through his mind like a steady stream, clearing some of the chaos.
At last, his consciousness broke free.
He shot upright.
His hand brushed against a cool, rough bamboo mat. A thick, decaying smell, a mixture of damp earth and incense, filled the air. The light was miserably dim, filtering through unseen cracks above, barely tracing the outline of a cramped stone chamber.
Holy shit. At least they didn't bury me alive, Lin Rui thought, a fresh wave of fear washing over him. A moment later, and he might have been performing a real-life coffin escape.
The thought had barely formed when clearer memory fragments slammed into his mind.
The original owner of this body was also named Lin Rui, a disciple of the Lin family. His cultivation aptitude was appallingly bad, making him the laughingstock of the clan. His father had vanished years ago. And a few months ago, his pitiful bit of cultivation began to regress, his life force draining away—the work of that damnable Spirit-Corroding Powder.
This starting hand looks tougher than any case I've ever encountered.
As he processed this, his detective's hearing caught a faint sound.
Creeeak—
From outside the stone door came the sound of soft footsteps—more than one.
Pure instinct took over. Lin Rui's muscles tensed, then went slack. He lay back down, pulled the mat over his body, held his breath, and shut his eyes.
The perfect picture of a corpse.
The stone door pushed open. Two furtive figures slipped inside.
"Feng-ge, this waste of space… he should be dead, right?" one whispered.
The other grunted. "After this long with the Spirit-Corroding Powder, it'd be a miracle if he wasn't. We have to finish the job."
Feng-ge? Finish the job? Key information. Lin Rui remained perfectly still.
"So… we get rid of him… now?" the first voice asked nervously.
"No shit! You want to save him for New Year's? Hurry up, before an elder finds out."
Lin Rui sensed one of them approaching. A cold hand reached for his face, the icy fingertips aiming for his nose to check for breath.
At that moment, his eyes snapped open.
He shot up like a coiled spring, caught the man's wrist, and twisted it back.
CRACK!
"Agh! My hand!" the man called Feng-ge cried out in horror.
The other man froze. "You… you're not dead?!"
"Too tough to die!" Lin Rui shot a side kick, swift as lightning, directly into the man's gut.
"Oof!"
The man flew backward, bent like a shrimp, and slammed against the stone wall. His eyes rolled back, and he went still.
Feng-ge clutched his broken wrist, fumbling for a rusty knife at his waist.
"You little bastard—"
A cold smirk touched Lin Rui's lips. Street fighting was ingrained in his bones. He dodged the clumsy slash, closed the distance, and hammered an elbow into the man's chest. A knee, a hook, and a final knife-hand chop to the neck. The man went down without another sound.
The exchange was over in breaths.
Lin Rui gasped for air, his body weak from the explosive burst of action. He looked at the two bodies on the floor. "Shit. Got carried away. Forgot to interrogate them."
He glanced at two empty bamboo mats nearby. An idea sparked, and a wicked grin spread across his face. He dragged the men onto the mats and carefully covered them up.
"There you go, gentlemen," he said, dusting off his hands. "Let's see if you wake up before someone comes to bury you."
Only then did he remember the scroll. He found it on the floor, its supple surface cool to the touch. By the faint light, he made out a few words in an ancient script: Fragment of the [Azurewood Heart Chant].
This was what his father had given him. The original Lin Rui had treasured it, keeping it with him at all times.
The instant his fingertips touched the scroll, something inside him ignited.
A burst of azure spirit light erupted, overwhelming the chamber! The light was pure, filled with an indescribable vitality, like the dawn of spring. It carried a vast, ancient aura that spread out in an unstoppable wave, blanketing the entire Lin family compound.
Deep within the compound, the "Spirit Web Monitoring Hub" began to hum violently, dozens of spirit jades flaring. A white-haired elder's eyes snapped open.
"This… the Azurewood Resonance! An ancestral manifestation, or… a transcendent state of cultivation?!"
At the same time, in hidden corners of the compound, black-clad figures looked up sharply, horror in their eyes. The faint black miasma coiling around them dissolved in the pure, azure light.
"Damn it! This energy counters our power! Fall back!"
The figures vanished into the shadows.
Back in the chamber, Lin Rui stared blankly at his hands.
"What the hell… what did I do?"
A weak, yet relieved, boyish voice spoke from behind him.
"Cough… D-don't be afraid. That was me."
Lin Rui spun around.
A translucent phantom, identical to his body's original owner, was looking at him with a hint of apology.
"I just… used the last of my soul power… to purge the rest of the Spirit-Corroding Powder from your body," the phantom said, his voice halting. "I didn't expect… it would cause such a commotion."
Lin Rui's mouth hung open.
The phantom waved a hand, his expression calm, almost longing. "My time is short. Just before… I faded, a voice told me I could go to a new place. Maybe I'll have a new journey, too. So… you live on for me. From now on, you are me."
Lin Rui looked at him. A thousand questions burned in his mind, but he simply gave a solemn nod.
"Okay."
A relieved smile graced the phantom's face. Then, like mist scattered by the morning wind, his form began to fade, dissolving completely.
The moment the phantom vanished, heavy footsteps and the clatter of armor approached from outside.
BANG!
The rickety stone door was kicked open.
A dozen cultivators in the dark-azure uniforms of the Lin family guards poured in, their longswords drawn. Torchlight glinted off their blades, illuminating the small chamber. They moved with practiced speed, surrounding Lin Rui in an instant, their gazes wary.
Lin Rui's stomach dropped, but his face remained a blank mask.
From outside the circle of guards came a deliberate, authoritative cough. "Ahem!"
The cultivators parted, creating a path.
A tall, thin man with a gaunt face and a neat goatee stepped forward. He wore an elegant, dark purple brocade robe, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were sharp, carrying an air of authority. It was the Master of the Discipline Hall, Lin Tianhong.
His gaze settled on Lin Rui, his brow furrowing.
"Rui'er, what are you doing here?" His voice was low but held an undeniable pressure.
Lin Rui's mind raced, but he put on a look of perfect weakness and confusion.
"First Uncle… I… I don't know," he said, his voice hoarse and tinged with fear. "I've been feeling worse these past few days, and today everything just went black. When I woke up… I was here."
He paused, as if a sudden realization hit him. "Oh, the Spirit-Corroding Powder! I've been poisoned!"
He deliberately emphasized the name of the poison, watching Lin Tianhong's reaction.
Lin Tianhong's eyes flickered, but he seemed more concerned with something else.
"Are you the only one here?" he asked, his gaze like a hawk's.
Lin Rui's heart skipped a beat. The two guys I knocked out are still under the mats. If I tell him, how do I explain how a "cultivation waste" like me overpowered two people? This uncle would probably brand me as demon-possessed on the spot. Better to keep it simple.
He lowered his gaze, his voice trembling with manufactured fear.
"Y-yes, First Uncle. Just me. It's so cold and dark in here… I just barely managed to wake up."
Lin Tianhong stared at him for a long, silent moment, his narrow eyes glinting with an inscrutable light. The atmosphere grew tense.
Finally, he broke the silence. "Very well. This is no place to talk. Come with me. You're going to see the Patriarch."
With his head bowed, Lin Rui followed him through a series of corridors, stopping before a solemn, imposing hall. On the black lacquered plaque above, three ancient characters were carved: Azurewood Council Hall.
He took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The hall was spacious and somber. In the main chair sat a man who resembled Lin Tianhong but possessed an even greater air of authority: the Lin family Patriarch, Lin Tianhua. He wore a brocade robe of black and cloud-white, his gaze calm and commanding.
On either side, in a dozen grand armchairs, sat several Lin family elders and high-ranking managers.
At this moment, every eye in the hall was fixed on him.
Lin Rui's heart pounded, but his face remained a mask of calm.
Lin Tianhong walked to the Patriarch's side and whispered a few hurried words. As Lin Tianhua listened, his expression was still, but his brow twitched almost imperceptibly as his gaze lingered on Lin Rui.
After a moment, Lin Tianhua's steady voice echoed through the hall.
"Rui'er, are you aware of the saying in our family that 'the ancestors manifest'?"
"Replying to Grandfather Patriarch, this grandson… is dull-witted. I may have seen it mentioned in the clan's old records, but the specifics… I'm not clear on them."
Lin Tianhua nodded slightly. "A short while ago, the Spirit Web Monitoring Hub detected an unprecedentedly pure surge of Azurewood spirit energy. Its source was traced to the sealed chamber where you were. Such vitality can only be triggered by the legendary 'Azurewood Resonance'—a sign that our ancestors' spirits are watching over us. It seems, my boy, that fate did not wish for you to die. The power of our ancestors cleansed the Spirit-Corroding Powder from your body and saved you."
His voice was even, yet it carried a strange power.
Lin Rui listened, stunned, but inwardly he was ecstatic. Wait, seriously? I don't have to explain a thing? This alibi… It's perfect!
He immediately put on an expression of dawning realization, followed by tearful gratitude. His voice was perfectly hoarse, laced with the relief of a survivor.
"So… that's what happened! I… I thank the ancestors for their protection! If it weren't for them, I… I would have…" He theatrically raised a sleeve to wipe away a nonexistent tear. "Thank goodness the ancestors were watching over me, so your grandson didn't just pass away so senselessly!"
Standing to the side, Lin Tianhong watched Lin Rui's performance, his eyes glinting.
Lin Tianhua's expression didn't change. "The ancestral manifestation is your great fortune, and a momentous event for our family. As for the poison, for someone to commit such a vile act against our own blood… I will order a thorough investigation. There will be no mercy."
His tone grew heavier, more resolute. He paused, his gaze sweeping over Lin Rui.
"From this day forward, for your safety, I will assign two family guards to you day and night. I will also have a female attendant dispatched from the inner household to see to your daily needs. Rest and recuperate. There must be no more mishaps."
Protection? Lin Rui thought. More like surveillance. Still, it's better than nothing.
He immediately dropped the act and put on a look of overjoyed relief. "Thank you, Grandfather Patriarch! This is wonderful! I… I finally don't have to live in constant fear, worried that even my next mouthful might be poisoned!"
He made a show of starting to kneel. "I kowtow to you, Grandfather!"
Lin Tianhong watched silently, his brow twitching again. This kid… he seems different from the timid boy he used to be.
The questioning was far more tedious than Lin Rui had anticipated. The Patriarch seemed affable, but every sentence held a hidden edge, probing for every detail of the "manifestation." The other elders were just as sharp, interjecting frequently. Lin Rui summoned all his focus, repeating and embellishing his story several times.
Finally, when they could find no more holes in his account, Lin Tianhua waved a hand and had Lin Tianhong lead him out.
His uncle led him in silence to the front of his own courtyard and left without another word, his parting glance still heavy with meaning.
The small courtyard had been neglected ever since his father vanished and had grown dilapidated. Moss covered the walls, and weeds ran rampant. Pushing open the creaking door, he was hit with a wave of dust and mildew. The place wasn't much better than some of the slum crime scenes he'd worked back in L.A.
He sighed and got to work, opening a window and giving the bedframe and table a quick wipe. The effort left his already weak body exhausted.
"Sleep first, deal with the rest later," he decided.
Knock, knock, knock.
Someone was knocking at the gate. A timid female voice followed. "Young Master Rui? My name is Zhutao. I have been sent by the Patriarch to attend to you. Also, he has ordered for your courtyard to be repaired immediately."
Lin Rui opened the door. A girl of about fifteen stood prettily outside in a pale green dress. Behind her were seven or eight brawny servants.
"Thank you for your trouble," he nodded.
The foreman bowed. "Young Master Rui, pardon the intrusion. The Patriarch has ordered us to renovate the courtyard as quickly as possible."
No sooner had he spoken than the servants launched into a flurry of activity.
One pulled out a palm-sized yellow talisman and slapped it onto a cracked wall. With a flash of light, the cracks began to mend. Another took out a small hammer and tapped gently at the slanted roof eaves; with each tap, a faint green light seeped into the wood, and the eaves slowly straightened. Several others, wielding glowing shovels, cleared the weeds with impossible efficiency.
Lin Rui watched, amazed. This cultivation world… even manual labor is high-tech.
Zhutao asked cautiously, "Young Master Rui, the inside of the house also needs repairs. Do you think…"
He waved a hand. "You all do what you need to do. I'm going for a walk."
He couldn't sleep with all the clanging anyway. He suddenly remembered the two guys he'd knocked out. He wondered what had happened to them.
He casually strolled out and wound his way back to the remote stone chamber. The guards were gone, and the door was wide open.
He slipped inside. The chamber was empty, with only the faint, lingering smell of blood in the air.
His heart sank. He searched the room but found nothing.
"Tsk. They move fast," he muttered, rubbing his chin, his eyes hardening.
It seemed that while he was being interrogated, someone had already slipped in and removed the two witnesses.
Who is trying to kill me behind the scenes? What threat could a "waste" with no cultivation possibly pose to anyone?
A storm of questions swirled in his mind.