The first memory Lin Huang possessed was pain.
Not the sharp pain of injury, but a deep, burning sensation spreading through his bones, as if molten fire was flowing through his veins. His small body was submerged in a medicinal bath, the surface of the liquid trembling faintly as strange herbs dissolved into a pale blue mist.
His breathing was unsteady.
Every breath felt heavy.
Around him stood several figures — men and women dressed in elegant robes embroidered with the emblem of a fox beneath a crescent moon. Their gazes were filled with anticipation, anxiety, and a hint of restrained excitement.
"This is too early," someone whispered."His body is still fragile. Cleansing the marrow at this age is dangerous."
A tall man with crimson hair and calm, stern eyes stepped forward.
"He is my son," he said. "If he cannot endure even this, he does not deserve to walk our path."
Lin Huang did not understand their words.
But in his dazed consciousness, fragments of memories that did not belong to this world flickered like shattered mirrors.
A world without Soul Rings.Cultivators refining flesh and spirit.A concept of strength that went far beyond the rules of Douluo.
His mind trembled.
As if responding to that unknown resonance, something deep within him stirred.
A faint, translucent tail of light emerged behind his small body.
Then another.
Then another.
Eight shadowy tails flickered in and out of existence, their forms indistinct, as if they were projections of something that had yet to fully awaken.
The temperature in the room dropped instantly.
The elders sucked in cold breaths.
"The Imperial Fox bloodline…""Eight phantom tails at birth…""Heavens…"
The man with crimson hair clenched his fist.
"So it begins," he murmured. "The future of the clan… may rest on this child."
Beneath the pale medicinal mist, Lin Huang's closed eyes trembled.
And somewhere deep within his soul, the path of Body Cleansing was carved for the first time.