Novels by Easy Wang

The sun rose over Fengshui, spilling pale gold light through the last wispy shreds of night mist. Rays touched the weathered stone of the Ancient Temple, warming surfaces that had borne witness to a struggle far older and heavier than the city itself. Birds began to sing from the bamboo groves, their bright, careless notes drifting across silent courtyards—life going on, unchanged, as if the fabric of reality itself had not been mended and remade here only hours before. Ratna stirred. She sat up slowly, pressing a hand to her throbbing head, her gaze blurring then clearing as she took in the scene around her. A young man in dark robes stood near the temple’s broken edge, facing the sunrise, his posture straight and quiet. A broad-shouldered dwarf checked the head of his hammer with steady hands. A woman with a dagger at her waist wiped faint streaks of blood from her sleeve. An older man in thick spectacles watched her with eyes that held years of quiet knowledge. Every face turned

Lin Ye knelt beside Shen Kui. His old master’s face was streaked with sweat and etched in deep, unrelenting pain; his eyes flickered erratically between Valerius’s menacing violet and the warm, familiar brown Lin Ye had known all his life. The struggle unfolding within Shen Kui’s mind was every bit as brutal as the one Lin Ye had endured, yet the old man fought alone—no golden light to steady him, no voice to anchor him, only his own will against the remnants of a conqueror’s ego. “Master,” Lin Ye said softly, resting a hand upon Shen Kui’s burning forehead. “I am here. Let him go. Release him into the silence where he can harm no one.” Shen Kui’s gaze cleared. For the first time in weeks, he looked straight at Lin Ye and truly saw him. Tears tracked through the grime on his lined cheeks. “Lin Ye… you did it. You… you grew into who you were always meant to be.” “Because you taught me how to endure,” Lin Ye replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Now rest. You have carried enough.”

The shift within the mental realm rippled outward instantly, spilling into the physical world like light breaking through a long-darkened sky. Lin Ye’s body—held rigid for so long in Valerius’s haughty, unyielding posture, shoulders squared too high, chin tilted in arrogant disdain—suddenly softened. The tension drained out of him as if chains had been unclasped from his bones. His bowed head lifted slowly, eyes fluttering open. The violet blaze that had burned there with unchallenged dominion flickered, dimmed, then receded entirely, retreating like a tide pulled out to sea. In its place returned warm, deep brown, ringed faintly with a band of glowing gold—the unmistakable mark of wholeness, of humanity reclaimed and strengthened by the gift another had freely laid down for him. He stood straight, not as a vessel, but as himself. Valerius, still lingering at the edge of the temple grounds, staggered as if struck by an invisible hammer. A searing, piercing pain drove deep into his aw

Valerius’s presence in the physical world sent a shockwave straight through the boundary between realms, shattering the grey sky of the mental space where Ratna stood. Cracks spiderwebbed across the horizon, revealing blinding violet light that seared even spiritual eyes. Lin Ye’s red pillar buckled, swaying violently as Valerius’s dominance surged, pressing down with crushing weight that threatened to snuff him out entirely. “He knows!” Lin Ye’s voice cracked, raw with terror. “Ratna, run! Get out now before he traps you here forever!” Ratna bit her lip—her spirit-form lip—refusing to take a single step backward. “No. I gave you my word. And I never break it.” She pushed forward through the storm of surging mental energy, every step a struggle against invisible hands trying to drag her away. When she reached the red pillar, she pressed her palms flat against its warm, trembling surface. “Listen to me, Lin Ye. I am giving you a piece of my essence. Our memories. Our friendship. Eve

Above the Ancient Temple, the sky turned a menacing deep violet—not the fading of daylight, but the heavy condensation of Void energy gathering in the atmosphere, as if the heavens themselves were drawing a curtain of darkness down over the land. Dark clouds swirled slowly, forming a vast, churning vortex directly above the temple ruins. The air pressure dropped sharply, making ears ring and breath come heavy, as though a great weight pressed against every chest. The wind no longer merely blew; it cut to the bone, carrying faint, whispering voices that rose from nowhere—seeking to creep into every mind, sowing doubt, fear, and despair. The bamboo groves surrounding the temple thrashed wildly, their leaves clattering like chattering teeth in the dark. Ratna sat cross-legged at the very centre of a formation Old Rat had drawn with steady hands—lines of white chalk mixed with a single drop of each of their blood, weaving an invisible bond that felt warm beneath her knees. Before her sto

The Ancient Temple in Fengshui’s Northern District rose like a forgotten giant—monumental ruins from centuries before the Empire was even founded. Massive stone pillars stood rooted amid dense bamboo groves, draped in thick moss and tangled roots, half-swallowed by the wild forest. An ancient protective formation hummed faintly around the perimeter, casting an invisible veil that shielded the site from magical detection, hiding them from prying eyes. Inside the main hall, where the roof had partially collapsed to reveal a sky strewn with faint stars, Old Rat built a small fire. Its golden light danced across faces worn thin by exhaustion and grief—Ratna, Goran, Elara, and Krog, all gathered in the quiet hush of the sanctuary. Old Rat laid the scroll of aged parchment flat upon a broad stone at the fire’s centre. “Here is the rite,” he said softly. “As I told you, it demands a willing offering. One of you must enter the depths of Lin Ye’s consciousness, find the Jade’s anchoring core