The neon sign of the 24-hour convenience store flickered with a rhythmic, dying buzz, casting a sickly pale light over the cracked pavement. My hands, calloused and smelling of industrial floor cleaner, trembled slightly as I untied my apron. Another double shift finished. Another few coins scraped together to build a future that felt like a distant, hazy mirage.
I'm Ning Feng—a name that meant nothing to the world, a speck of dust in the gears of a city that never slept and never cared. An orphan. A nobody. Yet, despite the hollow ache in my stomach and the leaden weight in my limbs, I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest.
'Shenyue is waiting.'
Ye Shenyue. We had grown up in the same cold, damp orphanage, sharing half-eaten buns and dreams of a life where we weren't just statistics. She was my anchor, my childhood sweetheart, the only soul who knew the map of my scars. I had worked three jobs, sacrificed my own education, and worn rags so she could have the tuition for her vocational college. To me, she wasn't just a girlfriend; she was my Dao, my singular reason for resisting the crushing weight of this world's indifference.
The night air was biting, a damp chill that seeped through my thin jacket as I began the long walk back to our cramped apartment. I had a small plastic bag in my hand—two strawberry puddings I'd managed to snag at a discount. Her favorite.
As I turned the corner into the upscale district—a shortcut I usually avoided because the sight of luxury made my own poverty feel like a physical wound—a sleek, silver sports car purred to a halt near the entrance of a high-end hotel. The engine's growl was low and predatory, the sound of wealth that didn't need to scream to be heard.
My heart skipped a beat, not out of envy, but because of the girl stepping out of the passenger side.
The dress was silk, a deep crimson that caught the streetlights like spilled blood. It was a dress I hadn't bought her. The hair was styled in elegant waves, a far cry from the messy ponytail she wore when we huddled over instant noodles.
"Shenyue?"
The name left my throat like a strangled plea.
She froze. Her companion—a man with the arrogant posture of a second-generation heir, draped in a suit that cost more than my annual earnings—wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. He looked at me with the same mild annoyance one might feel toward a stray dog blocking the path.
Shenyue turned. For a heartbeat, I saw a flicker of the girl I knew—the one who used to cry when I scraped my knees. But then, her gaze hardened. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, crystalline frost that chilled my soul more than the midnight air ever could.
"Feng? What are you doing here?" her voice was sharp, devoid of its usual melody.
"I... I just finished work," I stammered, the plastic bag of puddings feeling suddenly, ridiculously heavy. "Shenyue, who is this? Why are you dressed like that? You said you were at the library..."
The rich guy chuckled, a sound of pure condescension. "This is the 'childhood friend' you mentioned, Yue'er? I expected... well, at least someone who didn't look like they crawled out of a gutter."
I stepped forward, my blood beginning to simmer. The fatigue was gone, replaced by a raw, jagged edge of adrenaline. "Let go of her."
Shenyue didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into him. The betrayal hit me like a physical blow to the solar plexus, a spiritual tribulation that shattered my internal world.
"Stop it, Feng," she said, her voice dripping with a newfound venom. "Don't make a scene. It's embarrassing."
"Embarrassing?" I laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "I worked eighteen hours today for us! I skipped meals so you could have that college fund! I thought we were building a life together, Shenyue. I thought you loved me!"
She let out a long, weary sigh, as if I were a difficult child she was finally tired of indulging. "Love? Feng, look at yourself. You're an orphan with no background, no future, and no money. You're a dead end. Do you really think a few strawberry puddings and a life of poverty is enough? I'm tired of being poor. I'm tired of smelling like cheap detergent and worrying about the rent every single month."
She looked at the man beside her, her expression softening into a calculated sweetness. "Li Wei can give me the world. You can't even give me a decent meal without checking your bank balance first."
"You... you're choosing him because of money?" I whispered, the world tilting on its axis.
"I'm choosing a life," she corrected, her eyes narrowing. "Face the reality, Ning Feng. In this world, the poor are just stepping stones for the rich. You're a nobody. You'll always be a nobody. Now go home and stop bothering us."
Li Wei smirked, reaching into his pocket and tossing a few crumpled bills at my feet. "Here. For the puddings. Go buy yourself some dignity, if you can find it on sale."
The bills fluttered in the wind, landing in a dirty puddle. My vision blurred. A visceral rage, hot and suffocating, rose in my throat, threatening to choke me. I looked at the girl I had worshipped, and for the first time, I didn't see a goddess. I saw a stranger wearing a mask of greed.
The internal monologue of my life—the one where I was the hero working hard for our happy ending—shredded into a thousand bitter pieces. There was no reward for loyalty. There was no merit in suffering.
"I hope you rot in your gold," I spat, the words tasting like copper and bile.
I didn't wait for a response. I turned and ran.
I ran blindly, my lungs burning as if I were inhaling shards of glass. The city lights smeared into long, distorted streaks of neon and shadow. The betrayal was a poison circulating through my veins, corroding every memory, every promise we had ever made.
'I was a fool. A pathetic, delusional fool.'
The rain began to fall then—not a gentle mist, but a heavy, mocking downpour that soaked me to the bone. I reached the main intersection, my mind a chaotic storm of resentment and grief. I didn't see the light change. I didn't hear the frantic blast of the air horn.
The first thing I felt was the vibration—a deep, bone-shaking rumble that rose from the asphalt.
I turned my head. Two massive, blinding white eyes glared at me from the darkness. A wall of cold steel and roaring thunder was bearing down on me.
Impact.
It wasn't like the movies. There was no slow-motion grace. There was only the sickening, wet crunch of bone meeting metal. I felt my body launched into the air like a discarded rag doll.
The world spun—sky, pavement, headlights, rain.
When I hit the ground, the pain was so immense that it transcended physical sensation. It became a pure, white noise that drowned out the universe. I lay there, my face pressed against the cold, wet bitumen, watching the crimson river of my own life's blood flow toward the gutter, mixing with the dirty rainwater.
My breathing came in shallow, bubbly rasps. Each twitch of my fingers felt like a mountain collapsing.
'So... this is it?' The betrayal of Ye Shenyue, the years of soul-crushing labor, the loneliness of being an orphan... it all ended here, in a puddle of filth, under the uncaring gaze of a city that had already forgotten me.
My consciousness began to flicker. The edges of my vision were being eaten away by a creeping, Absolute Void. The screams of onlookers and the distant wail of a siren grew faint, as if they were happening on the other side of a thick glass wall.
'I don't want to die like this.'
The thought was a spark in the dark. A defiant, roaring ember of will that refused to be extinguished.
'I won't let it end like this! Not as a nobody! Not as a stepping stone! If there is a God... if there is a Devil... give me another chance!'
The darkness surged, swallowing the lights, the pain, and the memory of the girl who had sold my soul for a silk dress. My soul felt lighter, detached from the broken husk of my body. I was falling—deeper and deeper into a sea of nothingness where time and space held no meaning.
Then, a voice. Not the voice of a man, nor a woman, but a resonance that seemed to vibrate from the very fabric of existence.
[Nature of All: Synchronizing...]
[Soul Origin: Detected.]
[Regression Protocol: Initiated.]
A blinding, celestial light erupted in the center of the void. It wasn't the white light of death, but something ancient, primal, and terrifyingly powerful. It felt as if my soul were being pulled through a needle's eye, stretched across dimensions until I was nothing but a scream in the silence.
The memory dump began—not of my life, but of a world I didn't recognize. Portals tearing through the sky. Monsters with eyes like dying stars. Humans clad in light, wielding powers that defied the laws of physics. A goddess named Nu Wa, extending her hand to a dying race.
'Wait... this isn't my world.'
The sensation of falling stopped abruptly. The crushing pressure vanished, replaced by a sudden, jarring sense of weight.
My eyes snapped open.
The first thing I saw wasn't the rainy street or the underside of a truck. It was a wooden desk, scarred with graffiti and old gum. The air didn't smell like blood and exhaust; it smelled of chalk dust, cheap cologne, and the stale energy of a high school classroom.
I gasped, my hand flying to my chest. No blood. No broken ribs. My heart was hammering against my sternum like a trapped bird, but it was whole. My hands were smaller, the callouses gone, the skin smooth and youthful.
I looked around, my mind reeling. Rows of students sat around me, whispering in hushed, excited tones. On the chalkboard at the front of the room, large characters were written in bold, aggressive strokes:
COUNTDOWN TO THE AWAKENING CEREMONY: 3 DAYS.
A cold shiver raced down my spine. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cracked smartphone. The date on the screen sent a jolt of electricity through my brain.
'I'm back when I was seventeen.'
But as I looked out the window, I saw something that shouldn't have been there. High above the city skyline, hovering like a silent predator, was a swirling vortex of purple energy—a portal. And scattered across the news feed on my phone were headlines about "Class Ranks," "Dungeon Clearances," and "The Blessing of Nu Wa."
I closed my eyes, a jagged, dark smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
I'm still Ning Feng. I used to be an orphan. A nobody.
But in this world, and in this life... I'm going to hoard everything the heavens had to offer.