The heavens watched, silent and distant. Stars blinked coldly above Qingxuan Village, their light falling on streets filled with hatred. The wind rustled through dry leaves and cracked shutters, whispering stories of despair, but no one listened—not to pain, not to innocence.
In the shadow of an abandoned well, Gu Yue Fangtian lay curled, arms wrapped around his knees, as blood from a gash above his eye trickled down his cheek.
"You're the curse of the village!"
"Bastard child!"
"Your father left because of you!"
The voices of children echoed like cruel ghosts.
A boy with a twisted grin grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wooden fence. "Your mother's a beggar, and you're even worse! Why don't you just die already?!"
A blow struck Fangtian's stomach. Another caught his jaw. His small frame crumpled again into the dirt. But not a sound left his lips—not a cry, not a whimper.
He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
They eventually scattered, laughing, their pockets filled with stolen coins and what little food he had gathered that morning.
By dusk, he staggered through the forest path toward his home—a crooked hut near the edge of Qingxuan's eastern cliffs. With every step, the pain deepened, but the thought of his mother's warm voice kept his feet moving.
The door creaked open to the scent of broth. Faint, thin, but full of care.
His mother, Gu Yue Meilin, turned from the pot and dropped the ladle when she saw his condition. "Tian'er… again?"
Fangtian smiled weakly. "They took the radishes, Mama."
"Oh my child…"
She rushed to him, pulling him into her arms, stroking his messy hair. Her hands trembled as she saw the bruises. "You're always so quiet… Why don't you ever tell someone? Speak back? Fight?"
Fangtian buried his face into her shoulder. "Because I have you. I don't need anyone else."
Her heart ached at those words—so pure, so broken.
That night, he lay beside her, feeling safe for the first time in days. She sang softly, an old lullaby from the northern hills where she was born. Outside, snowflakes began to fall—the first signs of winter.
But fate, as always, was cold.
The Next Morning
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The front door shook violently.
Meilin, startled, set down her herbal pouch. "Who—"
Crash.
The door burst open. A hulking figure entered, his breath reeking of wine and greed.
"Lu Zhong." Meilin's voice faltered.
Lu Zhong sneered. "Three months. No silver. I gave you kindness, and you repay it with silence?"
"I… I need more time. Please. Just a little longer…"
"No more time, widow."
Fangtian stepped in front of her, fists clenched. "Get out."
Lu Zhong's eyes narrowed. "The brat's got teeth now, eh?"
A powerful slap sent Fangtian sprawling to the floor. Blood filled his mouth.
Meilin screamed, shielding her son. "Please! Take the medicines! I'll repay double next month, just—just don't hurt him!"
Lu Zhong grabbed her wrist, leering. "You have nothing left to give. Except that body."
"No…" she whispered, shaking.
Fangtian rose, trembling. "You can't—!"
"Fangtian," Meilin said softly, eyes filled with tears. "Run."
"I—"
"RUN!!"
He didn't want to. His legs refused. His body screamed. But one final look into her eyes—her last gift of love—shattered his will.
He turned and ran.
As her screams echoed behind him, as the sounds of struggle grew louder and crueler, Gu Yue Fangtian ran like the devil was at his heels. Through the forest, through the icy wind, through the pain in his heart.
Until—
He slipped.
A root, hidden beneath snow, caught his foot. He fell, tumbling down the mountain cliff.
Rocks tore at his skin. A sharp branch slashed across his side. Blood trailed in the air like a red ribbon before—
Thud.
He hit the ground and everything went dark.
Unknown Hours Later
Dripping. Silence. Cold.
Fangtian woke, alive somehow, the stars a distant blur above a narrow crevice in the rock wall.
His body ached. His clothes were torn. But he was alive.
Crawling through stone and shadow, he found himself in a hidden cave—ancient, forgotten, sacred. Strange symbols shimmered faintly on the walls, pulsing with spiritual energy.
At its heart lay a pedestal. Upon it rested a single ring—black and silver, shaped like entwined serpents, eyes made of tiny starlight gems.
It called to him.
"Touch it…"
Fangtian stepped closer. The world felt quiet, almost respectful.
As his fingers grazed the ring, a surge of light erupted from it, knocking him off his feet.
Voices filled his mind. Not angry, not cruel—but old, eternal.
"So much pain… so much despair… yet still, you did not break."
"You did not curse heaven. You did not curse fate."
"You… are worthy."
A figure appeared in his vision—a spirit in flowing robes, eyes like galaxies.
"I am Rerum, Master of the Lost Heavens. Once sealed beyond time. Now… you shall carry my legacy."
"Take the ring, Gu Yue Fangtian. Bear the burden of eternity."
"Forge your destiny in blood, fire, and stars."
Fangtian, battered and broken, held the ring to his chest.
His tears fell not in grief, but in silence. His eyes—once soft—burned now with something new.
Resolve.
The boy had died on that cliff.
In his place, a storm began to stir.