Pain.
It tore through Jiang Chen like a raging storm, leaving him breathless and disoriented. His body felt as though it had been burned and rebuilt, piece by agonizing piece. Slowly, the searing torment subsided, replaced by a strange warmth coursing through his veins.
His eyes fluttered open, and he gasped. A ceiling of intricately carved jade greeted him, its dragon motifs shimmering faintly in the glow of spirit lanterns. The air was heavy with energy, so dense it felt like liquid in his lungs.
"What…?" His voice faltered. It wasn't his voice.
He sat up, his hands trembling as they pressed against the cool stone floor beneath him. Strong hands. Larger than he remembered. He stared at them, his mind spinning as fragments of memory assaulted him.
Jiang Chen—no, that wasn't entirely true. He had been Jiang Chen, a physicist on Earth working on experimental energy systems. An explosion, a blinding flash, and then…
Rebirth.
The memories of another life now filled his mind. He was still Jiang Chen, but now the Crown Heir of the Heavenly Draconis Sect, the most powerful martial sect in this world. Born into privilege, groomed for supremacy. Yet these memories were tinged with bitterness—of betrayal, humiliation, and a recent, devastating duel.
"Reincarnation," he muttered, his voice steadying.
The chamber's heavy doors creaked open, and a boy in elaborate robes rushed in, his expression a mixture of relief and urgency. "Young Master Jiang Chen! You're awake!"
Jiang Chen blinked, his gaze sharpening. The boy's face felt familiar—a servant, loyal and nervous.
"How long was I unconscious?" Jiang Chen asked, his voice carrying an authority that surprised even him.
"Fifteen days, Young Master. After the duel…" The boy hesitated, his eyes darting downward.
"The duel," Jiang Chen repeated, fragments of memory aligning. His cousin, Jiang Tianyu, had struck him down with a forbidden technique, shattering his spiritual core in front of the entire sect. Humiliation and death had followed.
But this body hadn't died. Jiang Chen, the physicist, had taken its place.
"I see," Jiang Chen said, standing. His body felt alien, yet stronger than anything he had known. He clenched his fists, testing the flow of power that hummed faintly beneath his skin.
"The Patriarch has summoned you," the servant continued, his voice trembling. "He says it's urgent."
The Patriarch. His father. Memories of the man were cold and commanding, a figure of immense power and impossible expectations.
Jiang Chen nodded, brushing past the servant. "Lead the way."