The water was cold but refreshing as it slid through Lin Fan’s fingers. He crouched by the stream, scooping another handful and splashing it onto his face. The shock of the cool water against his skin was a stark reminder of his new reality. This wasn’t the realm of deities, where spiritual energy pulsed in the air and the water shimmered with celestial light.

This was the lower realm, raw and unrefined.

His reflection stared back at him from the stream’s surface: a young man’s face, sharp yet unfamiliar, with messy black hair falling over his eyes. Those eyes carried the weight of centuries, a heaviness no mortal youth could understand.

Lin Fan sighed and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Back to the beginning,” he muttered under his breath.

The sound of footsteps rustling through the grass behind him made him turn. A figure approached cautiously, holding a bundle of neatly folded robes in her hands.

“Master Fan,” the girl said, her voice soft and uncertain.

It was Mei Lin.

Lin Fan froze, his breath catching in his throat. Mei Lin. She looked so young, so alive. Her hair, tied back in a simple braid, framed a face that hadn’t yet been touched by the hardships of the world. Her brown eyes avoided his, as they always had, her posture timid yet dutiful.

In his past life, she had been more than just a maid. Mei Lin had been loyal to a fault, standing by him even when others abandoned him. She had died for him, her body shielding his during an ambush. He had never forgiven himself for letting her sacrifice go in vain.

“Master Fan,” Mei Lin said again, her brow furrowing slightly. “Are you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Without thinking, Lin Fan stepped forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She stiffened in his arms, clearly caught off guard. “M-Master Fan?”

He didn’t respond immediately. He couldn’t. The feel of her warmth, the scent of her faint herbal soap—it was overwhelming. She was alive, whole, and standing in front of him.

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“You’re here,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “You’re really here.”

Mei Lin hesitated before awkwardly patting his back. “I… I’ve always been here, Master Fan.”

He released her, stepping back as if to regain control of himself. He cleared his throat and gave her a faint smile. “Never mind. Thank you for bringing the robes.”

She tilted her head slightly, still looking puzzled but too polite to question him further. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay in damp clothes. Please, change into these.”

Lin Fan nodded, taking the robes from her hands. As he changed, his mind raced. Seeing Mei Lin alive stirred something deep within him—a sense of relief, but also a quiet determination.

He had failed her before.by not being strong.

When he was done, he turned to face her. Mei Lin was standing quietly by the stream, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Mei Lin,” he said, his tone firmer now, “have you ever thought about cultivating?”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Me? Cultivate? No, Master Fan. That’s… that’s not for someone like me.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just a maid,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Cultivation is for people with ambition, people who want to fight or gain power. My only goal is to serve you.”

Lin Fan’s expression darkened. “Serving me doesn’t mean staying weak.”

“But—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “You don’t understand. This world is cruel, Mei Lin. Even if you don’t seek power, power will seek you. If you stay like this, you’ll…”

He trailed off, the memory of her death flashing in his mind.

“You’ll regret it,” he finished quietly.

Mei Lin bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t want to be a burden to you, Master Fan. I don’t want to slow you down.”

Lin Fan’s heart clenched. Burden? You were never a burden. He reached into his robes, pulling out a small scroll and used a twig with his sharp sense he wrote tla cultivation technique for her.

“This is for you,” he said, holding it out to her.

Mei Lin hesitated, staring at the jade slip as if it might burn her. “Master Fan, I can’t—”

“You can,” he said firmly. “And you will. This is a basic cultivation technique from the family. It’s called the Four Petal Lotus Technique.”

She blinked, confused. “family? But… why would you give this to me?”

Lin Fan sighed. He couldn’t tell her the truth—not yet. That he had lived a lifetime already, that he had watched her die and carried that guilt for centuries.

“Because you’re worth it,” he said simply.

Mei Lin’s hands trembled as she reached for the jade slip, her expression a mix of awe and doubt. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything. Just listen,” Lin Fan said. “This technique will help you draw Qi into your body. It’s simple but powerful.it’s enough to make you stronger than most.”

She nodded slowly, clutching the jade slip to her chest.

“Practice it diligently,” Lin Fan added. “Don’t rush. Build a solid foundation, step by step. If you do, this technique will protect you when the time comes.”

Mei Lin swallowed hard, nodding again. “I’ll do my best, Master Fan.”

Lin Fan studied her for a moment, his expression softening. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

He turned back toward the stream, his gaze drifting to the horizon. The lower realm was vast, but it was nothing compared to what lay beyond. The techniques here were pitiful, the cultivation methods barely scratching the surface of true power.

In his past life, he had been lucky. After his family’s destruction, an Upper Realm master had found him and taken him in, recognizing his potential. That chance encounter had set him on the path to greatness.

But he wouldn’t rely on luck this time.

This time, he would forge his own destiny—and ensure those he cared about survived alongside him.

“Let’s head back,” he said, breaking the silence. “You’ll start practicing tonight.”

Mei Lin hesitated, glancing at the jade slip in her hands. “Master Fan… thank you.”