Dawn crept in quietly.

Inside the hotel suite, a young man stirred. His eyelids fluttered, his handsome face still carrying that soft haze between dream and wakefulness. But the moment his gaze fell on the unfamiliar room, his pupils tightened. His breath caught. Every trace of drowsiness burned away.

This place… this feeling…

He had come back.

Reborn—returned to the era of his youth on Earth.

The young man lay still for a heartbeat, letting the tide of vast memories crash through his mind. Shock washed over him, sharp and raw, as if he couldn’t quite believe the truth staring him in the face.

His name was Frederic Whitmore. In a former life, he had stumbled into the path of cultivation by sheer chance, then carved his way across the cosmos. He battled all races beneath the heavens, tread upon mountains of bones and endless ruins, and in the end—claimed the throne of an Immortal King.

Yet at the final step, at the gate of immortality, he failed his Undying Tribulation. His body perished; his soul scattered.

He never imagined that the ashes of that defeat would still grant him a second life—throwing him back a thousand years, to when he was twenty years old.

“So even after failing my Undying Dao… I still get another chance,” Frederic murmured with a low laugh, a cold gleam flashing in his eyes.

In his past life, the failure of his tribulation wasn’t only because of the crushing force of heaven and earth, nor merely because certain beings interfered from the shadows. The most fatal flaw had been buried inside him—heart‑demons forged from regret.

Far too many regrets.

Wounds he could never forget, choices that chained him for life. He had been too weak back then, too powerless to stop the tragedies that unfolded. And by the time he stood tall enough to shake the Nine Heavens, it was all far too late.

Those cracks in his heart, those seeds of demons…

They had followed him all the way to the end.

Now, in this second chance at life, he finally had the chance to mend everything he once lost.

Yunzhou… I’m back.

Frederic Whitmore murmured the words under his breath. His tone was soft, yet the chill beneath it felt sharp enough to press an entire city to its knees.

Yunzhou.

In his last life, this was the place that buried him in humiliation and misery.

Back then, he thought coming to Yunzhou was just a simple summer trip, nothing more than a young man stretching his legs during vacation.

But he didn’t know… this place would shatter his world.

He was framed. They searched his backpack and “found” a pile of drugs. On top of that, a few arrested dealers even pointed fingers at him.

With witnesses and evidence stacked together, the verdict came down like iron—over ten years.

A normal college student was thrown straight into a cage.

His father, Erik Whitmore, sold everything, drove himself into ruin, trying to clear his name. But the money was cheated away, the effort wasted.

When Frederic finally walked out of prison more than a decade later, his father had long since died in depression. Not even a final goodbye remained.

And after those years behind bars, he was completely cut off from the world. No skills, no guidance—only scavenging trash, wandering, begging. Just drifting through life, half alive, half dead.

Until fate cracked open once, giving him a rare chance. From the ruins he rebuilt himself, stepped onto the path of cultivation, and rose all the way to become the Qianyuan Immortal King.

But even an Immortal King couldn’t bring back the dead. Couldn’t mend regrets carved deep into the soul.

Those cracks in his heart exploded all at once when he faced the Undying Tribulation.

Yet now… reborn again… everything could still be changed.

Everyone who had crushed him in his past life—none of them would escape. Every debt would be paid, clean and cold.

Just then, a phone rang.

Frederic Whitmore glanced at the screen. The caller ID said “Dad.”

“Hey, son, have you reached Yunzou yet?”

The line connected, and that familiar rough voice came through. Frederic’s nose stung; his eyes warmed despite himself.

In his last life, his father’s death was the wound he regretted most.

“Yeah, Dad. I got to Yunzou last night. Booked a place online beforehand, so don’t worry. I’m already twenty,” Frederic mumbled, trying to hide the tremor in his voice.

On the other end, Erik Whitmore laughed heartily. “Right, and I’ve already talked with your Uncle Morrison. He’ll take you around Yunzou these days. The man knows that place like his own backyard. Don’t you worry about bothering him—your Uncle Morrison and I, that’s a bond forged through life and death.”

“And hey, your uncle has a daughter named Luna Morrison. I’ve seen her a few times—pretty girl, polite too. Heard she got into the Yanjing Film Academy last year. Might even become a big star someday.”

“I’m giving you a chance here, kid. You’d better not waste it! If you and Luna hit it off, our two families will be tied even closer.”

“…”

Frederic chuckled lightly. “Dad, I’m only starting my third year after summer. Isn’t this a bit early?”

“Early my foot. Keep dragging your feet and all the good girls will be taken. Anyway, I’ve got things to do here. Take care of yourself.”

Erik Whitmore nagged a bit more before hanging up.

The moment the call ended, Frederic’s smile vanished. His gaze turned cold, sharp as a drawn blade.

Even the air in the room felt like it dropped a few degrees.

His past-life misery… all of it was tangled with that so-called “Uncle Morrison.”

Gregory Morrison—his father’s childhood friend, the man who grew up alongside Erik Whitmore, served in the army with him, fought shoulder to shoulder. To his father, Gregory was the most trustworthy brother in the world.

Once, Gregory had crossed the wrong people and gotten cornered by a mob. It was Erik who stepped in, took a shattering blow for him, and ended up with a crushed right leg—crippled for life.

But who could imagine that this man, whom his father treated as a brother of life and death, would later strip their family of everything…

After Frederic was framed and thrown into prison.

He knew his false imprisonment had everything to do with Luna Morrison as well.

In his past life, the moment he met Luna Morrison, her soft smile and pretty face did shake him. He’d chased after her with all the courage of a young fool, only to be toyed with, mocked, and tossed aside like nothing.

In the end, it was one of her rich boyfriends, Patrick Pemberton, who set the trap that ruined his life and threw him into prison.

“Gregory Morrison… Luna Morrison… Patrick Pemberton…”

Frederic Whitmore murmured each name under his breath. A thin, cold smile pulled at his lips. “This time, now that I’m back, I’ll play along with all of you. Every bit of shame and pain you forced on me—I’ll return it tenfold, a hundredfold.”

He no longer held the might of the Immortal King who once crushed nine heavens and ten realms beneath his feet.

But in his mind—he carried a thousand years of cultivation.

A thousand years of tempering, a thousand years of blood and battle. Countless divine arts, countless secret techniques. Every memory carved into his bones.

All of this… would be the foundation of his rise in this life.

“My body right now is still far too weak. I need to rebuild my physique first.” Frederic Whitmore took a slow breath, sensing the thin, fragile strength of his current self.

Too weak. Pathetically weak.

On the path of cultivation, the body was the root. A frail body meant all talk of cultivation was just empty air.