Chapter 1: Rebirth
The Capital
The teahouse buzzed with noisy gossip.
A group of men sat behind a folding screen, trading the latest rumors from the capital.
"Have you heard? That man from the Lin family probably won't be setting foot on a battlefield again."
Another man cracked sunflower seeds between his teeth. "Why not?"
"Are you stupid? Everyone knows that after he won the last war, someone ambushed him. They say he went blind, the tendons in his hands were severed, and he was poisoned too. I doubt he'll—ah..."
The speaker took a sip of tea and slammed his cup onto the table with a bang.
"Shh! Do you have a death wish? You dare talk about that living King of Hell?"
The man in the middle glanced around with disdain.
"So what? That Lin is a sickly wreck. He won't live much longer."
"You've all gone mad. Who in the capital doesn't know that after the war, his temperament changed completely? He kills anyone who displeases him. His moods turn without warning."
The man tossed a seed shell onto the table, looked around, then craned his neck and brought the other two closer.
"I heard a servant in the Lin residence gossiped about him behind his back and was butchered alive. General Lin had his tongue torn out, his eyes stabbed blind, and all four limbs hacked off until he was barely human."
The moment the words left his mouth, blood splashed across the folding screen.
The man beside him froze, lips trembling. "M-murder!"
The teahouse exploded into chaos.
From the upper floor, Lin Zijing watched the patrons scatter like terrified rats and felt disgust coil in his stomach.
"A-Yi, clean it up."
He waited half the time it took to drink a cup of tea. Once A-Yi was finished, he carried Lin Zijing out of the teahouse using qinggong.
A carriage waited outside. Lin Zijing climbed in, hugged a hand warmer to his chest, and began to cough.
"Young Master, are you truly unwilling to invite the divine physician?"
Lin Zijing's expression changed. "A-Yi, don't mention it again."
"Yes, Young Master."
Still holding the warmer, Lin Zijing ordered, "Find a scapegoat."
"It has already been arranged. But Young Master, why did you have that man killed?"
Lin Zijing did not answer, and A-Yi stopped asking.
He looked around the carriage. The warmth against his hands was real.
Lin Zijing suddenly laughed.
Heaven had actually allowed him to live again.
In his previous life, gossip and rumors had aggravated his illness. The poisoning was real, but the blindness had been nothing more than a lie.
Because Lin Zijing had not cared and killed casually, that man had become the scapegoat.
Only moments before his death did his enemy tell him the truth: everything Lin Zijing suffered had been the royal family's handiwork.
He had exhausted himself conquering territory for the throne, only to make the imperial clan wary of him. In the end, the dynasty changed hands anyway, and his enemy became emperor.
A-Yi watched Lin Zijing laugh like a madman and sighed inwardly. Heaven was too unfair. The young master had only just begun to recover, and now he had become like this.
The brilliant youth who once rode through the world in splendid robes had become the living King of Hell everyone feared.
"Young Master, we're here."
Lin Zijing's face returned to normal. A-Yi carried him from the carriage.
The rumors were not entirely groundless. Lin Zijing truly was gravely ill. Even walking cost him precious life.
In his previous life, he had fallen from the heavens into the dirt beneath everyone's feet. He died in the depths of winter after his enemy broke both his legs and tore the nails from his hands. Even those who once took pride in him came forward to trample him.
They forgot that the man they despised had once been their great hero. Protecting them had left him poisoned and blind, unable even to grip a sword.
People were bitterly ironic.
The world disgusted him. Remembering how he had worked himself half to death to protect the common people, he found his blind loyalty contemptible.
What did it matter if everything rotted now? It had nothing to do with him.
He wanted only to live freely until death came. As A-Yi carried him, the wind pricked his face like needles.
When A-Yi placed him inside his room, the braziers were burning fiercely. Everyone else was sweating from the heat, yet Lin Zijing still felt no warmth.
He ordered them to add more charcoal. Only then did he notice that A-Yi and the others remained inside. They could not endure the heat much longer without falling ill.
"All of you, leave."
"No need, Young Master, I—"
"Out!"
"Yes, Young Master." A-Yi wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed. His young master had never feared the cold this much before.
Alone in the room, Lin Zijing sorted through his thoughts.
When he was sixteen, someone had severed the tendons in his hand. Although they were reattached, his hands ached every winter afterward.
He had become a useless invalid who even needed someone to feed him.
At this point in his previous life, Mo Ruxuan entered his household as a guard. Worried about Lin Zijing's safety, Aunt An had found a highly skilled man to protect him, giving Mo Ruxuan the perfect opportunity to approach.
Aunt An was his wet nurse. In his last life, she died because of him.
Through a series of accidents, he had offended this prince who was living in exile.
"Young Master, I'm coming in."
"Ah. Come in, Aunt An."
The moment Lin Zijing saw her appear before him and said, "Aunt An," his voice somehow broke into a sob.
The room was stiflingly warm, yet he felt a distinct cool trail slide down his cheek.
Aunt An hurried over. "Oh, my young master! Why are you crying?"
Only when she pointed it out did Lin Zijing realize he was in tears. His heart throbbed with a sour pain. Seeing her alive finally made his second life feel real.
"Aunt An, I missed you." That was the only explanation he could offer.
She hugged him and patted his back. "My poor young master. You've suffered."
After calming himself, Lin Zijing asked, "Did you need something, Aunt An?"
"Young Master, I found someone with excellent martial arts to serve as your personal guard. What do you think?"
He followed the course of his old life and nodded. "Then please arrange it."
"Young Master, you mustn't address me so respectfully. It isn't proper."
Lin Zijing no longer cared for such rules.
"Since my parents died, you've been family to me. What could be improper about it?"
Aunt An was about to answer when Lin Zijing changed the subject. She began discussing marriage instead, saying he was old enough to take a wife. Lin Zijing listened to her chatter without impatience.
"All right. You don't need to worry about that for me. I won't live much longer. There's no reason to ruin some innocent young woman's future."
Aunt An immediately spat three times to ward off the ill omen. "Young Master! You mustn't say such things. You will live a long life—one hundred years at least."
"All right, all right. I understand. I won't say it again."
Fatigue settled over Lin Zijing. Aunt An tactfully left. He had only just propped his head up and closed his eyes when A-Yi entered.
Hearing him, Lin Zijing opened his eyes. "What is it?"
"Young Master, what should we do with that guard?"
Lin Zijing pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let him in."
He studied the newcomer. "What's your name?"
"Mo Ruxuan."
Lin Zijing issued an order. "Mo Ruxuan, is it? Raise your head. Let me look at you."
Lin Zijing issued the order again. "Mo Ruxuan, is it? Raise your head. Let me look at you."
"You have a remarkably handsome face," Lin Zijing remarked without warning.
He remembered how Mo Ruxuan had entered his household in his previous life. Lin Zijing had been in no mood to receive him then and sent him away at once.
Later, jealous that Mo Ruxuan was healthy and admired by others, Lin Zijing began to hate him.
How ridiculous—a general jealous of a servant far beneath him.
Mo Ruxuan looked at Lin Zijing. The corners of his eyes were red, his pale face sickly, yet cunning gleamed in his swollen almond-shaped eyes.
He's beautiful, Mo Ruxuan thought.
Lin Zijing noticed the stare.
"You dare look at me? How bold. Tell me—how should I reward you?"
Lin Zijing hated being watched. He knew he was beautiful. Soldiers in his army had sometimes stolen glances at him, and there had been little he could say. Even though he himself had ordered Mo Ruxuan to raise his head, the man's gaze still irritated him.
Once, he would have solved the matter with force. Now he could not lift a sword or close his fist. It was deeply troublesome.
In his previous life, Mo Ruxuan had tortured him beyond recognition and left him to die miserably in the snow.
Lin Zijing thought of a way to torment him.
"A-Yi, summon several men from the army."
A-Yi had no idea what his master intended, but he obeyed.