One year.
Just one year.
But for Feng Chan, that year was nothing short of hell on earth.
---
January – Hunger
There were days when he fought spiritual beasts just for a piece of dry bread.
Nights he spent beneath open skies, shivering in freezing winds with nothing but torn rags to shield him.
Days when his stomach cried, but his heart roared louder.
> "I will not give up,"
he muttered each morning as he dragged his bruised feet up the same hill, again and again.
No sect would accept him.
No village would take him in.
He was treated like a walking failure—a boy who would never rise.
But deep within his eyes…
burned a fire that refused to die.
---
May – Beaten Down
He entered a martial arena without even a trace of spiritual energy.
The results were predictable—
His nose shattered, ribs cracked, and his face bruised beyond recognition.
> "Someone like you will never become a cultivator,"
a disciple spat, laughing.
But that night, even with closed eyes and a battered body,
Feng Chan meditated in silence.
> "As long as I breathe… I will never fall."
---
October – Rock Bottom
His body was broken,
but his will… still unyielding.
One stormy night, soaked and trembling,
he burned his old clothes in a small cave.
> "I'm no longer the useless boy everyone abandoned."
"From today, every wound will be my weapon. Every failure—my strength."
---
December – The Fall… and The Miracle
One fateful evening, while pushing his body near some ancient ruins,
he slipped…
and plummeted into a deep ravine.
His head bled. Bones bent the wrong way.
Consciousness faded.
But when his eyes fluttered open—
he saw light.
A radiant, glowing temple stood before him…
And in front of it stood her.
---
Ying Yue – The Mysterious Girl
She stood like a secret the world wasn't ready for.
A vision caught between night and dawn.
Her face was serene, like it had never known fear, yet her eyes…
held the weight of thousands of years.
She wore flowing white silk robes, stitched with black lotus patterns that shimmered with divine energy.
Hair: Midnight black with silver-tipped strands, cascading like a waterfall under moonlight.
Eyes: Deep amethyst, glowing faintly with an ancient flame—mysterious, unreadable.
Lips: Soft, full, and tinted like spring peach blossom.
Height: Around 5'6", every step measured like a trained empress.
Skin: Porcelain pale, glowing faintly—as if her body drank in starlight and radiated it back.
Her presence didn't feel mortal—nor divine.
She was something… beyond.
> "How did you reach this place?"
her voice was calm, almost expressionless… yet carried an unspoken command.
Feng Chan could barely move…
But in that moment—just looking at her—he felt everything change.
And deep within the glowing temple…
the Ancient Inheritance awoke.