Chapter One: Reborn Eight Years Ago

It was early autumn, and the persistent autumn rains had washed away the lingering heat of summer. The rain fell for several days, and just when people thought it would continue for many more, the sky unexpectedly cleared. On the afternoon after the fine drizzle, the sky stretched limitless and blue, sunlight bursting through the clouds and bathing the entire city of Shanghai in a bright halo, brimming with vitality.

Residents, long stifled indoors, seized the chance to enjoy the fresh air. Their faces in streets and alleys alike glowed with ease and happiness. On what should have been a peaceful, beautiful afternoon, the tranquility was suddenly shattered by the wailing of sirens in Linjiang District. Curious gazes turned to see the distant sky lit with red and thick smoke billowing upward—a fire had broken out somewhere.

At this moment, the Third People's Hospital of Shanghai was engulfed in flames, chaos reigning as the inpatient building was consumed by fire. Fortunately, the fire brigade arrived in time to prevent the blaze from spreading further. Yet, no matter how they tried, they could not extinguish the inferno within the inpatient building and could only contain it by isolation.

The hospital director, Ju Lou, stood not far from the burning structure, his face ashen as he watched the roaring flames. He knew that regardless of the hospital's loss this time, his position was finished. Though already of retirement age, he still clung greedily to his last vestiges of power.

When he saw the fire chief approaching, he hurried over and anxiously asked, "How is the situation?"

The fire chief sighed, "Not optimistic. The patients on the upper floors have all been rescued, but..."

Hearing that the patients had been saved, the director breathed a sigh of relief, but that trailing "but" made his heart leap to his throat again. "But what?" he pressed.

"But all the patients in the basement have perished. Only one survived. This time..." The fire chief meant to say the fire was extremely strange, but was interrupted by the director's cry of alarm.

"What?" The director gaped, unable to believe it. Stunned, he stared at the fire chief. "How is that possible? And you even saved one!"

What, old man, do you wish they'd all died? The fire chief grew angry at the director's words.

"What? Am I not supposed to save patients? Hmph!"

"No, that's not it! Are you sure it was the basement?" The director realized he'd overreacted and quickly lowered his voice.

"The basement, yes!" the chief confirmed.

At this, the director seemed to age years in a moment, a dazed look coming over him.

"But the basement is the morgue," he murmured.

...

It was hard to say how much time had passed—an instant, or perhaps centuries—before Xiao Cheng struggled to open his eyes.

He had only just awakened, and before he could even look around, his first instinct was to summon his flying sword. He remembered clearly: an hour earlier, he had been hunted for obtaining the Three Lives Jade Slip. With no escape, he had threatened his pursuers by forcefully attempting to transcend the tribulation. But it was a hasty effort; he could not recall how many lightning bolts he endured before losing consciousness under their might.

Now, his first thought upon waking was that danger still lurked; someone was chasing him, and he must summon his sword at once.

"Where is my flying sword?" Yet, to his shock, the sword—once like an extension of his own arm—did not appear. He was stunned. The flying sword was a cultivator’s life-bound weapon; how could it not obey him? Had it been destroyed during the tribulation? If so, he should be dead as well, yet here he was, alive. Why?

...

Five years ago, the Xiao family was wiped out—his grandfather slain, and several sisters-in-law perished defending him. The family had always been small; now, he was the sole survivor. Only after the massacre did he realize the world was not as simple as he had once believed. In this advanced era of technology, families like his own lived in seclusion, and there were many other powers in the world of cultivation, rendering the Xiao family insignificant and vulnerable.

Escaping the carnage, he was taken in by Master Wuhe, who made him his last disciple. All these years, Xiao Cheng had lived in guilt and endless hatred. Had he not been so reckless and spoiled, caring only for petty amusements, perhaps he would have had the strength to resist, and an ordinary woman would not have had to die to protect him...

He was the most gifted in his family in a hundred years.

Every time he recalled his sister-in-law being struck down before his eyes, he could not stop trembling. She had been so delicate, her swan-like neck flawless, and with a single stroke... Her graceful body fell, a white peony wilting in the desolate night before it could bloom, her eyes filled with utter despair. The only words she spoke before dying were—"Run!"

And all he, as her brother-in-law, could do was flee.

How bitterly ironic—he, the last direct male heir, could do nothing but watch as one family member after another was killed, even needing the sacrifice of his sisters-in-law to protect him. They were all ordinary women, with no cultivation. His four older brothers had died young, leaving them widowed. They could have returned to their own families and abandoned the Xiao family, but instead, they gave their lives for his.

If only he had cultivated from a young age, he might have escaped with them—but there was no "if".

His guilt became fuel for determination. Once he became the old master's disciple, he trained with relentless diligence for five years, reaching the peak of the Innate Stage—just a step from the Golden Core.

Yet, in this age, Heaven's laws had changed; to break through to Golden Core one must survive the Golden Core Lightning Tribulation—an ordeal that spelled death for most. For five years, his sole goal was to personally avenge his family.

Just as he was about to break through, he and his master were discovered by their enemies; his master died as a result. He fled for his life, and a month ago, stumbled upon a jade slip in the Kunlun Mountains—the legendary Three Lives Jade Slip. Said to contain the unparalleled Ninefold Immortal Sutra and capable of defying death itself, it was a treasure beyond compare.

But he had not gained its recognition. He could not access its secrets or conceal its aura. Thus, "a man who treasures a jade invites his own destruction"; the entire cultivation world hunted him for it. In the end, he chose to undergo the tribulation to intimidate his pursuers, but could not withstand the lightning and lost consciousness.

Memories flooded in like a tide. Xiao Cheng shook his head. If he fainted during the tribulation, he must have failed—and failure meant nothing but ashes, a fate not even the immortals could avert.

"How am I still alive?"

Only then did Xiao Cheng look around. The surroundings were dazzling white—walls, sheets, blankets, and even a television on the wall. He realized he must be in a hospital. Yet, failing the tribulation should mean death. How was he alive?

"Could it be the Three Lives Jade Slip? Yes—it must be!"

Three Lives—past, present, and future. Had it saved him? Where was it? He grew anxious; the jade slip was his only hope for revenge. If he lost it, he might never have his chance. Only when he felt the familiar touch of the slip did he relax.

Staring at the two-inch-long shuttle-shaped jade slip in his hand, Xiao Cheng was lost in thought. If the slip had revived him, perhaps it now recognized him as its master. Focusing his mind, he found that his consciousness could indeed enter the slip.

He was overcome with emotion—not that his heart was weak, for years of flight had steeled him—yet this jade slip was tied to his greatest hatred and hope. For years, he had been like a walking corpse, living only for vengeance. Now, with the slip's recognition, hope flared anew.

As he gazed at the shimmering slip, Xiao Cheng's mind drifted.

Just then, the door creaked open. In walked an exceptionally beautiful woman.

She had chestnut hair, a delicate and rounded face, exquisitely shaped features, brows like distant mountains, beautiful amber eyes tinged with aloofness, and lips slightly parted. Her cheeks retained a trace of youthful softness, evoking instant tenderness from those who saw her. She was tall, with a perfect figure, her long legs accentuated by fitted jeans, the curves of her hips outlined gracefully.

Though travel-worn and clearly exhausted, joy lingered between her brows—she must have come as soon as she heard the news. Despite her fatigue, she was dazzling.

Xiao Cheng stared, his mind going blank.

The cherished jade slip slipped from his fingers, striking the floor with a clear, ringing note.

Was this a dream? It had to be. Yet he could distinctly smell the clean, gentle scent unique to his sister-in-law. They had lived together for four years; he could never mistake it.

"Yu'er, is it really you?" Xiao Cheng gazed at Fang Yujia's cool beauty, his voice hoarse.

This was Fang Yujia, the sister-in-law who had died protecting him five years before. That bloody scene was still vivid in his memory.

Somehow, Xiao Cheng found the strength to leap from the bed and pull Fang Yujia into his arms, holding her as tightly as if he wanted to meld her into his very body.

Feeling the warmth and softness of her body, smelling that familiar scent...

Xiao Cheng forgot everything else, a pure, heartfelt smile blossoming on his face. How wonderful this feeling was.

"What are you doing?" Fang Yujia’s expression turned cold, her brows drawing together as she shoved Xiao Cheng away, her tone sharp with anger. The joy in her eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by distant indifference and clear aversion.

His return from the dead was a blessing for the family, and she was glad for it. But she hadn't expected Xiao Cheng to revert to his old ways, trying to take liberties as soon as he saw her.

What made it worse was that he’d just been brought from the morgue, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts...

Fang Yujia’s anger quickly faded into cold composure. She took out a moist wipe and carefully cleaned her left shoulder where Xiao Cheng had touched her, methodical and precise.

"We all thought you were dead. The hospital examined you thoroughly and even issued a death certificate.

Luckily, you came back to life. Everyone is very happy; Grandmother will probably come see you later, so don’t make her worry," Fang Yujia said calmly, her lips parting, eyes bright as stars, her beauty almost unearthly.

Realizing he was nearly naked, Xiao Cheng hastily covered himself with the blanket, a storm of emotion surging within him. His sister-in-law was truly alive; he could feel her presence as real as ever.

As for her wiping her shoulder—he paid it no mind. Fang Yujia had always been a stickler for cleanliness, and to her, he was still the little scoundrel she remembered. This was only natural.

And from her tone, Grandmother was alive too and would soon visit. But how could this be?

Could it be... Xiao Cheng thought of a possibility. The Three Lives Jade Slip—past, present, future. Perhaps it had sent him back to a past life; perhaps he had returned to the past!

"What day is it?" Xiao Cheng forced himself to steady his voice, suppressing his joy.

Fang Yujia was surprised by the question but answered, "Today is October twentieth."

"What year?"

"Thirteen."

Thirteen? That was eight years ago! Had he been reborn? Yes, he had!

Waves of excitement crashed in Xiao Cheng’s heart, and he nearly wanted to shout aloud.

Those who have never lost their loved ones cannot comprehend his feelings. For five years, he had lived for vengeance, only to suddenly awaken and find all those he cared for alive once more. The overwhelming happiness was nearly maddening.

2013—three years before the family’s destruction. He’d lost all his cultivation, but his family was still here. What could matter more? And he still had the Three Lives Jade Slip. Three years was enough to change everything. He would never let the disaster happen again. He would not allow his sisters-in-law to die for him, nor his family to be destroyed.

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