The Samsara God King's rebirth

CHAPTER 2

Following Yun Li’s memories, they arrived at the end of a deserted lane. An old house stood before them, its cracked walls riddled with age and its roof half-collapsed from years of neglect.

Shen Wuyin let out a sharp breath.

Mei and Qing hurried through the front door, he followed behind them.

The air reeked of damp wood and stale meat.

A frail figure lay on a small mat, covered with an old fabric.

“Mother.” Her voice cracked with emotion.

A wave of Yun Li’s memories flooded Shen Wuyin’s mind. This time, it centered only on Yun Li’s mother, Wang Jun.

Three years ago, she had been diagnosed with Life Essence Depletion, a rare affliction that slowly consumed her vitality.

Since then, her condition had worsened with every passing season, driving Yun Li deep into debt with Shan Lian.

“Mei…” Wang Jun muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Where… is Yun Li?”

“I’m here.” Shen Wuyin stepped forward and crouched beside her.

Her face was lined with wrinkles and dark spots. Her bloodshot eyes struggled to focus.

She was poisoned, Shen Wuyin thought.

She reached out and took his hand, her fingers trembling as they curled around his palm.

“You made it out alive?” she asked, disbelief and faint hope in her voice.

“He killed Mo Xuan,” Qing cut in sharply.

His mother's breath caught. Her eyes widened.

“Yun?”

“Brother,” Mei said, brows furrowed. “How did you do that? How did you channel that much qi and strength enough to kill Mo Xuan?”

“Yes,” Qing added. “Where did you learn that skill?”

Shen Wuyin’s gaze darkened slightly.

Even his own family doubted him.

“I learned it from an old man in the woods,” Shen Wuyin replied calmly.

“An old man?” His mother’s grip tightened. “Even with your broken dantian? Yun Li, are you telling me the truth?”

A faint smile touched Shen Wuyin’s lips.

“I don’t know his name. But I’m grateful to him.”

He rose and turned toward the table across the room. A pot of stale porridge sat there.

From Yun Li’s memories, Mei and Qing hadn’t eaten properly in weeks. The porridge was reserved for their mother, while the children survived on thin soup made from boiled leaves.

“Mei, Qing, get some rest,” he said before walking out.

★★

“His dantian is truly beyond repair. How did this happen?”

A wave of Yun Li's memories swept through Shen Wuyin’s mind.

Unlike cultivators whose dantians were damaged in battle, cultivation deviation, or failed breakthroughs, Yun Li had been born with a broken one.

His mother had spent years searching for a cure from countless alchemists and healers, hoping one of them could cure him.

The memory faded, replaced by a memory from Shen Wuyin’s past life.

A green circle stretched beneath Shen Wuyin’s feet. A child rested in his arms. The child had also been born with a broken dantian.

“Samsara Cycle Reversal Technique,” Shen Wuyin muttered.

“With this technique, I can repair Yun Li’s dantian just as I repaired that child’s.”

He sat cross-legged on the grass and closed his eyes.

Qi gathered around him, swirling into a dense sphere.

The memory was clear, yet the child's face remained veiled by a hazy mist.

Though he could not see the child's features, the sound of that carefree giggle stirred a deep sense of familiarity within him, as though the child had once been someone precious beyond measure

Shen Wuyin moved his hands in an anti-clockwise motion and clapped them together.

A radiant green circle erupted beneath him. Ancient symbols flickered across its surface.

Qi surged through his body and poured into Yun Li’s broken dantian.

A cracking sound echoed from his abdomen.

POW!

A violent surge of energy shot through him.

Inside, the broken fragments of Yun Li’s dantian were pulled together, grinding with a deafening crack.

Pain tore through his lower abdomen and surged toward his heart.

“One mistake and I’m going to die.”

Thick, dark blood streaked from his nostrils, its metallic taste coating his tongue. His limbs trembled violently.

The Samsara Reversal Technique was infamous throughout the cultivation world. Its results were extraordinary, but countless powerful cultivators had died attempting it. Even powerhouses of nations had been lost. As a result, the technique was forbidden and gradually lost to time.

While others regarded it as forbidden art, Shen Wuyin had used it at will in his past life without restraint. After all he was its creator, and no one understood it better than him.

“One more dantian…”

A sharp groan escaped his lips as he struggled to remain standing within the green circle, enduring the agony until the shards of Yun Li’s dantian slowly fused into a perfect sphere.

Shen Wuyin fell to his knees. A gush of thick blood spilled from the corners of his lips. Black liquid escaped from his pore.

“It is done.”

Green light radiated from his abdomen before fading away.

The green circle dissolved.

“This body is weak. I need to train it to withstand more; else it will keep causing me pain.”

“Yun Li! Come outside this instant! You think you can escape without paying?” A voice rang from the front of the house.

“Come out!”

Shen Wuyin walked out from behind the house.

Three high-grade cultivators stood in front of the house.

“You rascal!” one of them shouted.

Inside, Mei and Qing clung to their mother, their hearts hammering.

“Keep your voices down,” Shen Wuyin said coldly.

They laughed dryly, their jaws tightening.

One of them reached for Shen Wuyin’s neck. “You think you can order us around now?”

Qi surged from Yun Li’s dantian, forming a translucent barrier two inches from his skin. The barrier flared, halting the man’s hand.

“How is this possible?” the man muttered.

Shen Wuyin shook his head in disgust.

“Your breath stinks.”

BANG!

He shoved the man away.

The man slammed into a distant tree with a heavy thud.

The others froze before anger replaced their shock.

“You piece of shit!” They charged.

“You owe our boss, Shan Lian, and still dare to fight us?”

“Pay us now, or your sisters die here!” another shouted, a sphere of flames spinning above his outstretched palm.

Shen Wuyin glanced at it, irritation flickering in his gaze.

“So what do you plan on doing with that little torch?” He smirked.

“You have one last chance. Pay what you owe our boss, or your useless sisters die.”

“I’ll pay your boss in three days.” Shen Wuyin said icily.

“You must be a fool!”

Shen Wuyin’s brows furrowed slightly, disgust flashing in his eyes.

“I’m not your reflection.”

The man’s face twisted with rage. “You useless brat!” He launched the fireball.

Shen Wuyin tilted his head.

PAM!!!

Qi wrapped around his hand as he smacked the fireball away. It reversed direction with a shrill whistle.

The man’s grin vanished.

Flames swallowed his face before he could even scream.

His cries tore through the street as he collapsed and desperately threw sand at the fire.

But the more sand he poured onto it, the fiercer the flames became.

Moments later, he died.

Passersby gathered around the scene.

The last remaining man stood frozen.

His gaze darted between the corpses.

Shen Wuyin turned toward him. Darkness flickered beneath his eyes.

“Tell your boss I’ll pay him in three days.” Shen Wuyin said, his tone even.

He turned and walked back toward the house.

The man swallowed hard.

“What a fool,” he muttered under his breath as he watched Shen Wuyin walk away.