Chapter One: Brother, you see me as a frog in a well gazing at the moon above.

The Human Race.

Grand Xia, Imperial Capital, the Lin family.

A torrential downpour. A bolt of thunder.

For an instant, the rain was illuminated, revealing a young boy kneeling in the deluge.

And before him, a disciplinary notice from the Martial Academy.

Lin Yin's eyes snapped open.

His gaze flashed like lightning, sharp and startling.

By reflex, his hand moved to his waist, reaching for a sword hilt.

But all he grasped was the coarse edge of his homespun robe.

As he looked around, confusion seized him.

“Lin Yin, you disappoint me. Again.”

“When will you ever show a fraction of your brother's sense?”

The present Martial King, Lin Zhengyang, looked down at his kneeling eldest son, then at the disciplinary letter, disappointment saturating his gaze.

Weak in martial arts, yet ever causing trouble.

When will you, Lin Yin, ever become as diligent and sensible as your brother, so that I, Lin Zhengyang, can feel blessed and proud to have such a prodigy?

The rain poured relentlessly, thunder rolling in the heavens.

Yet neither the judgment in his father’s eyes nor the storm itself moved Lin Yin. Kneeling in the rain, two silent streams of tears traced his cheeks.

He had been reborn.

At the moment the Great Wall fell, when the demon horde trampled the corpses of millions of humans, he had returned to his most suffocating, humiliating youth.

His tears struck the muddy earth, the splashes reflecting scenes from a previous lifetime.

Decades ago, the demon race had risen from their lands, fierce and bloodthirsty, intent on devouring the eight human nations.

At the cost of ten million martial warriors, the Human Race built four great flesh-and-blood walls, shielding their last sanctuary.

Within those walls, the eight human nations clung to life; Grand Xia was one of them.

Lin Yin, a seemingly ordinary high school senior.

Yet his background was terrifying.

His father, Lin Zhengyang, stood at the peak of his era, Martial King, conqueror of thirteen demon cities.

And his younger brother, Lin Tianjiao—same parents, only a year apart—had, by age fifteen, already slain his demon-born peers with the sword.

By all rights, Lin Yin should have been respected, worry-free, destined for greatness.

Yet he was the least like a Martial King’s son.

For his father’s authority was absolute, and his bias, exceedingly cruel.

The root lay in his entry to the family midway.

At birth, during the chaos of the demon invasion, he was separated from his parents.

He grew up among the common folk, struggling for food and shelter, missing that golden age for martial training.

Not until he was fifteen did the man claiming to be his father find and bring him home.

He thought it would be a return to parental warmth.

Instead, it was the beginning of his life’s greatest nightmare.

Weak, having missed his opportunity, he felt inferior in the family of a Martial King. To fit in, he bent over backwards to please his parents—and even his brother—but in his father’s eyes, this was cowardice, weakness, a lack of backbone.

For three whole years, his father never publicly acknowledged him. He was forbidden even to mention the Lin family name outside.

Thus, the world knew: in the Grand Xia Imperial Capital, the Lin family had but one heir—Lin Tianjiao.

A heartless father, a partial mother, a noble brother, and a broken self.

At eighteen, after coming of age, he left home in desolation to enlist in the army.

Disheartened, he thought to die on the battlefield—better that than a wasted life.

Yet, far from the inland cities, stationed on the Great Wall of flesh and bone, he felt a strange liberation.

No longer suppressed or helpless.

With the roar of a dragon, Lin Yin awakened.

From a raw recruit at the Blood and Qi stage, he surged through the Bone Tempering and Vein Forging realms, becoming a general in only three years!

At twenty-one, he looked upon the proud and mighty, and they bowed their heads.

Three years!

Lin Yin proved he was never worthless—only delayed.

In the era of turmoil, he waded through seas of blood, his blade dulled and nicked, and on the Great Wall he slew three demon kings, attaining the rank of King himself. His name swept through all eight human nations.

Even his father, the Martial King, sent envoys, inviting him home to claim his title as heir.

But that very day, the deaths of the three demon kings seemed to ignite the demons’ fury.

Billions of demons surged forth, shattered the four great walls, and the land was drowned in carnage.

His comrades perished, the mountains and rivers ran red.

Lin Yin kicked aside the envoys of the Martial King’s residence, turned his back on the blood-soaked land and the lights of a thousand homes, and alone, blade in hand, faced the hordes of demons…

…

His thoughts returned to the present.

Lin Yin gazed at the familiar scene before him.

He knew what awaited.

The routine.

Kneel.

Confess.

Accept punishment.

The reason was simple.

His latest disciplinary notice had been discovered by his brother, Lin Tianjiao, and delivered to his father.

The downpour continued; the kneeling youth slowly rose to his feet.

“Lin Yin, stay kneeling.”

Lin Zhengyang frowned, stern and unsmiling.

Standing in the storm, Lin Yin raised his head.

That sharp, piercing gaze.

It made Lin Zhengyang feel he was facing a stranger.

But also, it deepened the gloom on his face.

“I’m tired of kneeling. I won’t kneel any longer.”

“This Lin family is not my home.”

Lin Yin stood tall, wasting no words.

I am a dragon lurking in the abyss, a roc yearning to soar.

You would have me kneel, worship your towering might as heaven’s grace.

When my wings are broken, you blame me for not flying.

How can this Lin family be my home?

Lin Yin, oh Lin Yin, how foolish you were in your last life.

With a wry, self-mocking smile,

Lin Yin strode to the gates of the Martial King’s residence.

“Unfilial son! Get back here! Kneel and recite the family law!”

Lin Zhengyang’s voice was cold as frost.

The Martial King’s wrath stirred the thunder.

He truly did not understand—his usually weak-willed son, had he gone mad today, to openly defy his father?

The commotion reached his mother, Yang Hui’er, in the inner rooms.

“Yin’er?”

“Are you sulking with your father?”

“How did you become so disobedient?”

“We’re doing this for your own good…”

She was interrupted by the smell of something slightly burnt from within.

Yang Hui’er’s face tensed; she hurried back inside.

When she emerged, she was carefully carrying a bowl of soup.

Vitality Five-Tonic Soup—a rare treat.

A single bowl was worth a fortune.

“Come, Tianjiao, it’s time for your daily tonic.”

“Mom, we’ve had this every day this week. I’m sick of it. Can’t we have something different?”

“Alright, tomorrow I’ll make you a special turtle essence decoction. Here, put your coat on. It’s cold, don’t catch a chill…”

She spoke without thought, but he heard it all.

Words sharper than a blade, cutting to the heart.

Lin Yin raised his eyes, lifted his palm.

Rain from the autumn equinox stung with icy chill.

He was soaked through by the storm.

At the limits of bitterness, his lips could only curl in self-mockery.

He muttered softly to himself:

“Lin Yin, oh Lin Yin.”

“Have you ever tasted soup that others found beneath them?”

“Don’t catch a cold in this weather… The rain is heavy indeed.”

“How pitiful… Not blessed with a loving home as a child, and none as an adult.”

After this bitter laughter, his heart saw the truth of this home.

He felt no more longing.

Lin Yin’s eyes flashed open, his gaze sharp as a blade.

“Hahaha, for my own good?”

“For three years, Martial King Lin made me kneel seventy-eight times, beat me thirty-two times, starved me fifty-six times, made me face the wall one hundred and thirty times. Is this what you call being good to me?”

“You say the eldest son must be tempered… so he must kneel daily to your scoldings and blows, while Lin Tianjiao is cherished and indulged?”

“For three years, every birthday of his was celebrated with grand feasts and guests from afar, while you always forgot mine, making me share with him. Hahaha, a brother celebrating his birthday with his younger sibling—how utterly pathetic.”

“Today!”

“I kneel while he stands?”

“I stand in the rain while he drinks soup?”

“You call it for my own good.”

“But can you count how many scars are on me?”

“Have you ever treated your precious younger son the same?”

Lin Yin poured out all the grievances of years past.

A final cry of injustice for his previous self.

He laughed heartily, the rain streaming down, his spine unbending as iron.

“Only Lin Tianjiao is truly your son!”

Lin Zhengyang slammed the table in anger. “Insolence! Now you even dare to disrespect your mother?”

Yang Hui’er’s eyes widened. “You are the elder brother—how can you compare yourself to your little brother…”

“And another thing!”

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“You claim that during the war, out of necessity, you left me with strangers, and when the chaos ended, you could not find me.”

“But!”

“There is but a year’s difference between me and Lin Tianjiao!”

Lin Zhengyang’s fury erupted. “What right have you to question your parents?”

Yang Hui’er was stunned. “Yin’er… what do you mean by that?”

Lin Yin, thoroughly disappointed, only laughed.

A year apart. Did you truly not understand what that meant?

You said you loved me, but after losing me, you had Lin Tianjiao.

You claimed the war made it impossible to keep me, yet you raised Lin Tianjiao lovingly by your side from birth.

Right or wrong, he no longer cared to argue.

Let it be.

Lin Zhengyang’s brow darkened further.

“Ungrateful son, you are my flesh and blood…”

A lock of black hair, shorn by a blade, fell before all eyes.

“Let’s sever all ties. I return this to you!”

“I renounce the Lin family!”

“Farewell!”

Born, but never raised.

To cut off one’s hair—repayment enough.

He cast the blade aside.

And with that, Lin Yin no longer cared about anyone’s feelings.

Lin Tianjiao’s voice sounded softly behind him. “Brother, is venting your anger like this worth it? You see me as a frog at the bottom of a well gazing up at the moon…”

Lin Yin laughed aloud, stepped over the Martial King’s threshold, and strode away.

A frog at the bottom of a well looking up at the moon, is it? Easy to praise oneself when enjoying every privilege. How absurd.

Was their son truly leaving?

Yang Hui’er, coming to her senses, grabbed Lin Zhengyang in panic.

Lin Tianjiao emerged from the shadows, supporting his mother, soothing her repeatedly.

“Mom, don’t be upset. It’s not worth harming your health. Besides, I’m about to break through Qi and Blood Level Nine and reach the Bone Tempering Realm!”

Lin Zhengyang’s face was stony, but when he looked at Lin Tianjiao,

His eyes shone with satisfaction.

So diligent.

So talented.

So thoughtful of his parents’ hardships.

That was what the son of a Martial King should be.

“But your brother…”

“Don’t worry, Lihui. You asked me to discipline that unfilial son—trust me, I know his nature inside out. He won’t get far. He wouldn’t dare.”

Lin Zhengyang’s voice was cold.

“I’ll wait and see.”

“When he can’t endure the hardship and wants to return—”

“Let’s see how he comes crawling back, begging for forgiveness!”

He glanced at the shorn hair swirling on the ground.

His contempt deepened.

“Cutting his hair—how childish and laughable.”

With that, he swept away.

“Tianjiao, come to the training grounds with me.”

“At the end of the month, if you break through Qi and Blood and reach Bone Tempering, I’ll throw a thousand-table feast for you and guarantee entrance to any top academy in the eight human nations.”

“As for that unfilial son—let him suffer outside. Running away from home, what a childish stunt!”

…

All of this, Lin Yin neither knew nor cared to know.

Now, he had only three things to do.

First, withdraw from school and leave the capital.

Second, reactivate all his resources from his previous life.

Third, raise his level to qualify for the academy exam at month’s end.

“Two years of deep study at the academy, then back to the battlefield—would I be stronger than in my last life?”

Having completed his withdrawal, Lin Yin boarded the train out of the city, murmuring to himself.

“If I am stronger, could I block the demon tide at the Great Wall, protect all the homes behind me, so children need not wail, wives need not search for fallen husbands… I have no home, but they cannot be left homeless…”