The water beneath Si Wangjun's feet shimmered dark red — water no longer, but a river laced with his blood.It flowed endlessly, unhurried, as though all time itself moved beneath him.
This was the Immortal River of Benevolence, where countless beings had once ascended to eternity.But here, now, Si Wangjun bled alone.
It was neither cold nor hot.Only silent.Only vast.
Before him towered the Heavenly Gates, grand beyond imagining — carved of primordial jade, wrapped in the light of a thousand Daos.Above and around him floated Immortals draped in flawless robes, their gazes cold, their lips curved in disdain.
And yet, Si Wangjun stood tall.Even facing death, he stood.
His robe was shredded, dark with blood.His long hair stuck to his face, some strands charred and melted by the lingering lightning.But his spine never bent.His hands never shook.
"A man stands tall, even when the heavens fall."(男子当立,纵天崩亦不屈)
From the skies, a lazy voice rang out — thick with condescension.
"Si Wangjun… so stubborn, even in ruin."The old man descended, robes white as frost, beard flowing like silk.He stroked his beard slowly."You've climbed high, boy. But this… this is the end of the road. The Dao does not tolerate rebels."
Another voice, crisp and sharp, echoed from a female immortal dressed in indigo silk.Her beauty was flawless; her smile, cruel.
"To challenge the heavens itself — how laughable. You wished to usurp the Dao? You, a mere red demon from the mortal realm, The Heavens Greatest Mistake?"She let out a silvery laugh. "你不自量力." (You overestimate yourself.)
Laughter rippled among the gathered immortals.Some shook their heads in pity.Others sneered openly, voices cutting:
"He cultivated like a madman — only to die like a worm."
"The red demon who wished to become a god. Foolish."
"Si Wangjun, your ambition was boundless. Pity your fate was sealed the moment you touched the Immortal River."
And through it all —Si Wangjun did not lower his head.
His black eyes lifted calmly to the heavens.
"He who bows to heaven is but a servant.He who stands before heaven… is a monarch."(拜天者仆,立天者君)
He smiled faintly — tired but proud.
"I do not regret the path I walked.Better to burn in defiance than kneel in peace."
The female immortal's eyes sharpened, her graceful hand raising as thunder crackled behind her.
"Arrogant to the very end!Let me wipe your name from the scroll of existence!"
From her palm, the void split open — arcs of Heavenly Tribulation Thunder pouring out, congealing into a spear so vast it seemed to pierce the sky itself.
The mortal realms quaked.Rivers boiled.Mountains crumbled.
Yet Si Wangjun only let out a soft, bitter chuckle.
"The Dao speaks of balance and virtue… yet here you all stand, butchers dressed as kings.Tell me — am I the demon, or are you?"
The Immortals' faces twisted. Their auras surged wildly.
"You dare slander the Heavens?"
"Silence!"
"Enough!"
But at that exact moment —Something deeper stirred.A hum, a crackle — subtle at first, then roaring.
The very centre of the heavens fractured.
A deep, ancient force surged from within Si Wangjun's battered core — every ounce of his cultivation, every fragment of will, condensed into one.
The immortals' expressions turned from contempt… to terror.
"What… what is this qi?!"
"Impossible—!"
"His foundation should be broken!"
The female immortal's thunder spear flickered — crumbled to ash in her palm.Her eyes widened in horror.
Si Wangjun straightened his back fully.His lips parted one final time.
(Heaven and Earth are merciless; all things are but straw dogs.)
"If Heaven is heartless…Then let Heaven burn with me."
He inhaled slowly.His pupils turned black as ink.His long hair flashed silver-white.His shattered robe shimmered, cloaked in radiant white light.
The immortals scrambled. Seals exploded into being. Daoist formations flashed.But they were nothing.
"STOP HIM!"A faceless, cosmic voice howled.A colossal Dao hand, vast as a continent, descended to crush him.
It pressed down, trying to grind him into emptiness —but cracks spidered across its surface.
Si Wangjun's aura pierced through the void itself.
"Si Wangjun!! You will destroy all worlds—!"
His final smile was serene.
"一念生死,一念成灭."(With one thought, life and death. With one thought, creation and ruin.)
"If I am to fall…Then let all things fall with me."
A blinding white force exploded from his body.The Heavenly Gate shattered.The Immortal River dissolved.The Immortals screamed as light devoured sky, earth, and void alike—
A suffocating Darkness.
A Weightless drift through void.
Then- A Jolt , Like a Blade of thunder.
Si Wangjun's eyes snapped open.
The celing above him was cracked, Shattered window overlooking to the Vibrant Cityscape. A Wodden dusk , and musty surrounding.
Laying on a narrow , hard bed , A White dusty Blanket on top of his chest.
A sharp Pain pulsed into his brain, while hodling his head , His breath caught.
-In that instant All the memories flooded.
Like Fragments of Shattered Glass.
Immortal River of Benevolence.
Heavenly gates towering in the void, mocking faces of immortals, his last attempt to win everything started to resurface like a glass wall infront of him and they again started to break apart infront of him.
His eyes dilated quickly, his breath short , heart aching and eyes shimmering with pain.
"No... this Can't be! "
Asking himself the question, his voice weak and cold.
Among these surge of memories he got a new one.
Wei Ziqing, seventeen years old.
A student of Jiangzhou Celestial Star Academy, residing at the outer edge of District 3, in an apartment so decayed it seemed to lean forward with age, as if listening to secrets only it could hear.
His parents were figures of renown — both born of the old military lineages, their names engraved in the records of Earth's scattered defensive bastions. His father's reputation was etched in the dark corridors of command bunkers; his mother's in the crimson-soaked battlefields at the fractures of the dimensional rifts. Even his siblings — faces blurred by distance and disuse — had stepped proudly into the legacies carved by blood and merit.
Wei Ziqing was not like them.
He was the remnant left behind when usefulness had been weighed and discarded. A weak Star awakener, barely able to summon a flicker of power when others roared like constellations. His failure had been quiet at first. Averted gazes, clipped words, dinners served colder each day. Then the silence lengthened into months.
By the time he turned fifteen, they had stopped returning home altogether.
No letters. No comm-calls. No footprints.
As if his existence had been a clerical error they were too polite to correct publicly.
The apartment was given to him not out of care, but obligation — a crumbling single room apartment in Jiangzhou, where peeling walls bore the scent of damp concrete .
The academy gates stood far enough away . Every day he would go using the bus.
He kept no photographs.
He could no longer recall the precise sharpness of his brother's voice or the warmth — real or imagined — of his sister's smile. Only their names lingered, and even those began to dull like chalk left too long in the rain.
Yet he never complained. Never cried. Never raged.
He simply lived. Quietly.
Alone.
You could call him "the Hollow Star" — a boy with no family, no future, and no shine.
But in the deep hours of dawn, when Jiangzhou slept under cracked skies and distant monsters howled against barrier walls…
Wei Ziqing's dark eyes would open, clear and alert. His breath would steady. His body, fragile as it was, would rise again.
The little man has such a tragic life , while he is weak has never skipped a day in the academy , he worked daily , kept going to the academy daily and was meticulous in his studies.