The early summer heat had arrived. In a pitch-black room, an aging air conditioner hummed noisily.
Outside the window came sharp howling—likely a group of stray cats downstairs fighting over territory. The sounds of battle were intense.
Aside from that, it was just an ordinary, peaceful summer night.
Wang Rui lay on the bed, lights off, holding up his phone to watch this year's latest anime.
The anime was titled "Miss Jin's Miserable Life". What a strange name.
The protagonist was a 15,000-year-old lion spirit named Miss Jin, who lived deep in the forest. By chance, she formed a connection with a young human boy.
The innocent and reclusive lion spirit, wanting to get closer to the boy, transformed into his dream girl and entered the human world. She went on various adventures, but in the end, she lost to the male protagonist's childhood sweetheart, ending up without love, life, or wealth.
It wasn't youthful, romantic, or pure love at all.
Wang Rui felt a sharp pain in his chest as he watched, wishing he could dive into the screen and shake some sense into Miss Jin.
"You're like a little mermaid chasing after a prince—are you trying to turn into sea foam? And there's no Disney to rewrite your ending here."
Why didn't you read the original fairytales, silly spirit lady?
His overheated phone screen dimmed. Wang Rui flopped to the side like a dead fish and buried his face into the pillow. He couldn't understand what kept him watching such a drama-filled, outdated anime—it was frustrating and left him feeling uncomfortable.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated. Stiffly, like an ancient mummy, he stretched out his arm and grabbed it.
"Hey Wang! Where are you? Didn't I tell you to come back and work overtime an hour ago?" The voice on the other end was energetic—it was his supervisor.
Wang Rui jolted awake, opening his eyes wide.
So it was just a dream… I knew it didn't make sense—why would I still need to work after dying once already?
Just as he was about to relax, he noticed a blinding white light in front of him. Squinting, he carefully took in his surroundings—a surgical lamp hung overhead.
A figure in surgical scrubs and a mask leaned in closer. Although fully covered, Wang Rui immediately recognized the mischievous eyes—it was Wang Rui's sister, Wang Xiaohua.
Still half-asleep, his brain couldn't make sense of the situation, but instinctively, he began to feel uneasy. Whenever his smiled like that, she was definitely up to no good.
Sure enough, she grinned and said, "Oh, you're awake? Congratulations, the surgery was a success—you're now a cute girl! Don't forget to treat your buddies well, sis!"
"Damn it! Get lost!" Wang Rui shouted and jolted awake.
This time, he was certain he was truly awake, but everything around him was pitch black. His limbs felt tightly bound, as though he had been crammed into a small, enclosed space.
As he gradually regained sensation, Wang Rui tried moving his arms, but his forehead bumped into something hard. He then attempted to stretch his legs, only to end up kicking himself in the jaw.
Wriggling awkwardly like a worm for a while, Wang Rui realized he was curled up inside some sort of rounded container.
…Right, he seemed to be inside an egg.
His previously foggy mind finally started to clear up. Still groggy from sleep, Wang Rui pieced things together and understood—this was his hatching moment.
But getting out of the egg was easier said than done. For someone who had spent over twenty years as a mammal, the idea of breaking out of an egg felt oddly foreign.
How do chicks break out of their shells again? he thought. Oh right, they use their beaks. But I'm not a bird—I don't have a beak.
I should have claws, though, Wang Rui thought, moving his front limbs—well, forepaws. He wanted to use them to poke through the shell but quickly realized there wasn't enough room inside the egg to shift his curled-up paws to the outer side.
Forget it—time to brute force my way out.
He braced his forelimbs against the curved shell and pushed outward with all his might.
"Crack."
A crisp sound echoed as a long crack appeared on the beautiful golden egg, which shimmered with a rainbow-like sheen.
Ordinarily, such a faint noise could easily be drowned out by the slightest breeze. However, in the Star Dou Great Forest, that soft sound was akin to the tolling of an ancient, sacred bell. It reverberated through the entire forest with a solemn, majestic tone.
A mysterious, invisible power surged out from the golden egg, rippling outward like waves. The energy grew stronger and stronger until it returned to the egg, where it was fully absorbed once again.
"Buzz—"
A dazzling golden light burst forth, illuminating everything around it in a radiant glow. Plants began to grow wildly at an unnatural speed.
All the soul beasts in the Star Dou Great Forest—from the strongest beasts to the tiniest insects—fell silent.
Regardless of their level of intelligence, a collective understanding emerged in their hearts: the Emperor Auspicious Beast, guardian of all soul beasts, had been born.
In the unseen realm, the unique destiny of the Emperor Auspicious Beast connected the fortune of the Star Dou Great Forest with that of every soul beast within it, forming a unified whole.
As each creature grew stronger, the collective fortune of the forest would also increase, and in turn, this enhanced fortune would nourish and strengthen every individual soul beast. This cycle of mutual reinforcement would lead to the forest becoming ever more powerful.
This was the true purpose of the Emperor Auspicious Beast's existence.
The entire Star Dou Great Forest was bathed in a golden sea of light, but the source of this grand phenomenon remained oblivious to it all.
Wang Rui was focused on clawing his way out of the shell. With a final push, he emerged into the outside world.
Ah, the fresh air has never smelled so good.
The little golden kitten wobbled to its feet, but after taking only two steps, it plopped back down onto the ground.
Walking on four legs isn't easy… Wang Rui muttered as he clumsily raised a paw to wipe the sticky liquid off his eyes.
Carefully, he opened his cleaned eyes, ready to take in the beautiful scenery of the Star Dou Great Forest—
But all he saw was a misty blur.
A puzzled, high-pitched meow escaped from his tiny throat. He blinked his clear, golden eyes in confusion, turning his head around in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings.
Oh… right. Newborn animals can't see clearly at first.
So what should I do now? Should I eat the eggshell?
Just as Wang Rui turned back to look for the eggshell, an overwhelming sense of danger suddenly surged in his mind.
A chill ran down his spine, and if not for the sticky fluid covering his body, his fur would have stood on end.
The unknown danger was terrifying.
Instinctively, the little golden kitten let out a soft, immature growl. But without being able to see, even if the threat was right in front of him, he had no way to escape…
Damn it! Wang Rui gritted his teeth, digging his tiny claws into the ground. The guide from that lion spirit lady must be outdated—she never mentioned this situation!
Wait, my eyes!
If his regular eyes couldn't see due to his young age, then what about his third eye as a Three-Eyed Golden Lion?
Wang Rui tilted his head upward, trying to sense the unfamiliar organ on his forehead. It felt strange and unfamiliar, but he focused hard on it.
In ancient myths, some believed that humans once had a third eye on their foreheads, which eventually degenerated into the pineal gland, hidden behind the skull. While unscientific, this theory did have a faint connection to reality: if you pressed a sharp object against your forehead, you might feel a certain tension as if your eye were being threatened.
Recalling this experiment he once tried out of curiosity, Wang Rui attempted to reproduce that tense feeling.
Slowly, a thin crack appeared on his forehead, and a golden third eye opened.
He could finally see!