"Hello... hello?"
Wang Fang's vision was a complete blur. He couldn't make out the shape of the woman's figure calling out to him through the fog.
Another voice cut in, sharper and impatient. "Is this brat not up yet?"
"Yeah," the first voice replied. "He's been lying here like a corpse for five hours now."
Tap. Tap.
"Hey." The newcomer nudged his shoulder. "Hey!" She did it again, harder this time.
Then—absolute silence. The hands left him. The voices vanished.
Why is my body so heavy? Wang Fang thought, panic rising in his chest. He tried to lift his head, to twitch his fingers, to even blink. Nothing moved. It was as if his soul had been nailed to the floorboards, completely paralyzed.
Gritting his teeth, he poured every ounce of his willpower into forcing his eyelids apart.
SPLASH!
A wave of ice-cold water hit his face. The sudden shock ripped through his dormant nerves. His eyes flew open, and he gasped, wiping the water away with a trembling hand.
"Huh? Where... where am I?"
The scorching sun hung high overhead, but the scenery was entirely wrong. The world slowly swam into focus, revealing a breathtaking canvas of endless blue sky, drifting white clouds, and a vibrant green horizon. It was pristine, resembling a divine, untouched garden. Fields of exotic flowers swayed gracefully in the breeze. Ancient, towering trees pulsed with a visible life force. A crystal-clear river cut through the valley, its waters so pure they perfectly mirrored the heavens above.
But then he saw the architecture. The houses weren't built of wood, bamboo, or stone. They were forged from shimmering glass and gleaming, hyper-advanced metal. Some of the structures scraped the heavens, piercing right through the clouds, while others looked as small as ants beside them.
Birds sang melodies that literally soothed his fractured soul as they wheeled through the sky. Beasts of every imaginable color and shape roamed the plains—creatures he had absolutely no names for. He saw people, too. Cultivators and mortals alike, walking through the neon-lit forests and strolling down massive, metallic streets.
And then, the light died.
In a single heartbeat, black clouds boiled across the sky, swallowing the sun whole. Violet thunderbolts tore the heavens apart, striking the earth in a relentless, deafening barrage. It felt like the terminal wrath of the world itself.
Suddenly, emerging from beyond the edge of the horizon, a colossal entity appeared.
It was a head. Massive. Planetary. Godlike.
Its colossal eyes were tightly closed, yet its mere presence crushed the very atmosphere, making it impossible to breathe. Strangely, no one else in the vibrant world seemed to notice. The people kept walking. The birds kept flying. The city kept humming.
But Wang Fang saw it. Cold sweat poured down his face, soaking through his collar as a primal, suffocating fear slammed into his chest like a physical blow. He tried to move, to run, to scream for his parents—but he was glued to the spot.
The cosmic being slowly opened its eyes.
CRACK—BOOM!
The lightning wasn't coming from the sky anymore. It erupted directly from the entity's gaze.
SWOOSH—BOOM!
"Hah...! Hah...!"
Little Wang Fang jolted upright in bed.
His small, ten-year-old body was completely soaked in cold sweat, his thin blanket drenched. Fear still hammered against his ribs like a frantic war drum. His eyes darted wildly around the room, narrow and filled with lingering panic.
He was in his personal chamber. It was empty, quiet, and safe. There were no strange women, no futuristic cities, and no godlike entities staring down from the cosmos.
"Ah... it was just a dream..." Fang whispered, his voice incredibly hoarse. "But it felt so real..."
Just then, a wave of noise drifted in from beyond his chamber doors—the sound of hurried footsteps, frantic chattering, and muffled, intense arguments. The chaotic sounds twisted together, mirroring the tension of his nightmare, and a sharp, splitting headache suddenly stabbed through his skull.
"Ngh...!" He clutched his temples with his right hand, gritting his small teeth to endure the agonizing throb.
"I think... I need water," little Fang muttered.
Thankfully, a cup sat right beside his bed—a strict habit of his. Whenever his turbulent meridians acted up, drinking cool water was the only primitive way he knew to calm his internal system. Gulping it down, a soothing coolness spread through his throat and chest. Taking a deep breath, he swung his legs over the frame and stepped down from the bed.
He approached the heavy wooden door and pushed it open, stepping out into the daylight.
The courtyard was completely deserted except for his personal maid, Xiao Lan, who was pacing back and forth with a face full of sheer anxiety. The moment her eyes fell upon him, her complexion went utterly pale.
"Young Master?!"
"Where are my mother and father?" Wang Fang asked, his voice still trembling slightly from the fever.
Xiao Lan forced a rigid, nervous smile, her hands twisting her apron. "Ahh... Young Master, they are currently in the Gathering Hall. They are... holding an emergency meeting with the elders."
Wang Fang nodded solemnly and immediately turned toward the main cobblestone path leading to the clan's central sector.
"Ah! Young Master, please! Come back inside your chamber!" Xiao Lan cried out, chasing after him in a panic. "You are still incredibly sick!"
Wang Fang didn't listen. His steps were slightly unsteady, but his resolve was absolute.
"Please, Young Master! If you do not stay in bed, my position will be stripped away! The Madam will severely punish me!" she begged, her voice breaking on the verge of tears.
But Wang Fang had already stepped completely out of his courtyard manor, tuning out her cries.
On the way to the Gathering Hall, the Crimson Clan estate was bustling with unusual activity. Clansmen were walking to and from the primary training hall, some heading toward the Medicine Pavilion, others rushing to purchase recovery pills, and many crowding around market stalls selling spiritual herbs.
Then, someone spotted the pale boy walking down the path.
Time seemed to freeze. The bustling activity ground to a sudden, awkward halt. And then, the venomous whispers began.
"Tch, look who finally decided to show his face..."
"I can't believe the main lineage deceived us all this time. We actually thought he was some kind of peerless genius."
"It was all a pathetic lie. At the end of the day, he's just a useless piece of trash."
One voice rose louder than the rest, dripping with undisguised contempt from the crowd. "Now, because of his cursed existence, our Wang family's top physician, Doctor Li, has been permanently crippled and is stuck on a sickbed! A burden like him deserves to be cast out of the family entirely!"
Wang Fang's small fists clenched tightly at his sides. His legs, still weak from the residual effects of the nightmare and the spiritual fever, trembled slightly. Even though he possessed the mature mind of an adult from his past life, he was currently trapped in the body of an ten-year-old child; it was impossible to completely escape the physical and emotional vulnerabilities of youth. The sharp words stung, and a heavy weight pressed on his heart.
There is no need to listen to them, he firmly told himself, swallowing the emotion. They know nothing.
Choosing to look straight ahead, he ignored the glaring eyes of his clansmen.
"Look at the little curse, still crawling around the estate," a sneering voice pierced the humid air right outside the heavy, iron-reinforced doors of the Gathering Hall.
Wang Fang paused, turning his head to see his nine-year-old cousin, Wang Zhi—the Fourth Elder's notoriously arrogant and pampered son—striding toward him.
Wang Zhi crossed his arms tightly, a smug grin plastered across his face as two bulky guards from the outer clan flanked him like a personal militia. "You completely ruined Doctor Li. If I were a talentless piece of garbage like you, I would have crawled into a hole and died out of pure shame."
Wang Fang didn't say a single word. He stood his ground, letting his clenched fists relax as he locked his cold, piercing eyes directly onto his cousin.
The sheer, chilling intensity radiating from the ten-year-old's gaze—a gaze forged from the profound maturity of an entirely separate lifetime—was suffocating. It was not the look of a child. Stricken by the sudden, freezing aura, Wang Zhi instinctively took a half-step back, his smug smirk faltering as a shiver ran down his spine.
Seizing that exact moment of hesitation, Wang Fang walked right past the boy, using his small shoulder to firmly brush past the stunned guard, and pushed open the massive doors of the Gathering Hall.
The Gathering Hall
Inside the grand chamber, the atmosphere was thick enough to suffocate an ordinary mortal.
"A Foundation Establishment doctor, permanently crippled under your watch!" the Fourth Elder roared, his voice echoing fiercely off the high, vaulted ceilings as he slammed his fist onto the stone conference table.
Boom!
"Clan Leader, your son is an ill-omened curse upon the Crimson Clan! For the absolute sake of our family's future and reputation, he must be stripped of his Young Master status immediately!"
"Watch your tongue, Fourth Elder," Wang Yun growled.
The Patriarch's face was an unreadable mask of cold stone, but his newly forged Core Formation aura flared wildly in his anger. The raw energy rippled across the room, causing the solid stone tiles beneath his heavy boots to spiderweb with tiny, fracturing cracks. Beside him, Madam Xinyi stood with her hands clenched tightly within the silky folds of her robes, her eyes blazing with a protective, maternal fury that promised blood.
"I am no curse!"
A small, remarkably steady voice cut cleanly through the explosive shouting.
The elders gasped, turning in unison to see little Wang Fang stepping firmly into the center of the grand hall. Though his small body still trembled slightly from the lingering internal fever, his voice carried an unshakeable, defiant weight that stunned every cultivator in the room.
"You all sit up there calling me trash, calling me weak, just because your doctor fainted!" Fang said, his eyes flashing with raw, untamed determination.
He had no idea what Doctor Li had actually witnessed inside his soul, nor did he know anything about hidden primordial potential or god-like spiritual roots. To him, his body genuinely felt broken and empty. But the adult soul resting within him absolutely refused to accept defeat or beg for mercy.
"I am not weak! And I am never going to be weak!" Wang Fang declared, staring down the council of elders. "Just because my body is struggling right now doesn't mean a thing. Mark my words—one day, I will become strong. Terrifyingly strong! I will climb so high that I will become stronger than every single person sitting in this room combined!"
"Silence, you arrogant cripple!" the Second Elder barked, slamming his hands down and rising from his seat so violently that his heavy wooden chair flipped backward onto the floor. "You possess no Qi! Your meridians are completely empty! Even a normal mortal child can hold a stray strand of atmospheric energy, but you are a total dead end! You are nothing but a shameful burden to our lineage!"
Wang Fang took a slow, deep breath, letting his adult resolve iron out the child-like weakness in his limbs. He completely ignored the Second Elder, turning his gaze to lock eyes directly with the man who had demanded his exile.
"Then let us make a wager, Fourth Elder," Wang Fang challenged, his voice dropping to a chilling, calculated whisper that echoed clearly through the silent hall.
"Give me three months. I will not use a single pill from the clan's reserves. I will not use any spirit stones, and I won't touch a single drop of Qi or traditional cultivation methods. I will train entirely on my own, using nothing but my bare hands, my own sweat, and my own hard work."
He pointed a small finger toward the grand entrance. "At the upcoming clan tournament in three months, I will step into the ring and completely defeat your genius son, Wang Zhi!"
The Fourth Elder's jaw dropped, his face twisting in a mix of shock and pure rage. "You... you brainless, arrogant worm..."
"If I lose, I will pack my bags and walk off this mountain myself, never to return," Wang Fang threatened, his gaze unblinking. "But when I win, you will all shut your mouths, and you will never question my right to stand here again."
The grand hall fell into a dead, paralyzed silence.
Wang Yun and Madam Xinyi exchanged a look of profound surprise. Beneath the shock, their hearts swelled with an intense, overwhelming pride. This was their son—a child who, despite having the entire world turn against him in a single day, possessed a shattered body but a soul that absolutely refused to bend.
The rest of the elders simply stared at the small child standing in the center of the room, completely paralyzed by his terrifying, unyielding audacity