A cold wind howled through the desolate ancestral hall of the Fang Clan. Once a place of absoulte grandeur, now it stood in eerie silence, its walls adorned with faded murals depicting the triumphs of ancestors long gone. Dust blanketed the stone floor, and cobwebs draped over the great altar where incense burners had remained empty for centuries.
At the center of the hall, beneath a massive stone tablet bearing the names of fallen clan heroes, a faint glow pulsed, a whisp of qi where none should have existed. A presence stirred, lingering like a forgotten shadow.
Then, he opened his eyes.
A sharp, bone-chilling cold wrapped around him, and for a moment, there was nothing but darkness.
Then the pain.
A heavy pressure, like something crushing his soul, made him gasp. Memories surged through his mind, images and emotions that were both his and... not his.
He remembered his name, Liu Chen, a perfectly ordinary college student. He remembered his world, the modern-day technological world, not qi. And yet, at the same time, memories of another life forcefully took root in his mind.
Fang Tianheng.
A name steeped in history. A mighty ancestor of the Fang Clan. A cultivator who had once commanded fear and respect.
And now, he was both.
Or rather, he was neither.
Liu Chen no, Fang Tianheng shuddered as his mind reeled from the realization. He was dead. Or at least, the real Fang Tianheng was. His body was nowhere to be found. All that remained was a tattered soul, lingering in the ruined ancestral hall.
"What… the hell?" His voice came out in a whisper, but it did not echo. He had no physical form, no warmth, no weight, just nothing.
He looked around, instinctively trying to move, only to feel a strange resistance, like his very existence was bound by invisible chains. Then, as though answering his thoughts, a series of glowing words flickered into his vision.
[System Initializing…]
[Soul Recovery Protocol Engaged…]
[Status: Severely Weakened | Corporeal Form: Unavailable]
A system? Like a game?
Fang Tianheng frowned. His mind was already trying to apply logic to the impossible. Had he been reincarnated? Was this some weird lucid dream? No, this felt too real.
The memories forced into his mind told him that five thousand years had passed since Fang Tianheng disappeared. No one in the current generation had ever seen him. His name had become nothing more than a legend or myth.
Now, he was supposed to be that ancestor? A forgotten spirit of some declining clan?
"Of all the things to get isekai'd into, I had to become a useless ghost?" He groaned.
[Mission Activated: Restore Your Lost Body]
[Current Progress: 0%]
Before he could process the message, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him. His consciousness flickered, his very essence straining to remain in the world.
And then, he saw them.
In the heart of the Fang Clan's main courtyard, lanterns flickered as a council of elders gathered beneath the pale moonlight. Their faces were grim, their voices hushed.
At the head of the assembly sat Fang Wei, the current patriarch, his once-imposing figure burdened by age and the weight of responsibility.
"The Ironwood Sect has tightened their hold over the northern territories," he said, his voice steady despite the tension. "Our access to the spirit stone mines has been severed. If this continues, we will be forced to concede more land to them."
A murmur of unease rippled through the gathered elders.
"The younger generation is weak," grumbled Great Elder Fang Huo, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "Our cultivation techniques are deteriorating, and we lack resources to train new talent. The Fang Clan is fading."
Liu Chen no Fang Tianheng, watched this from the void. He could feel the weight of their words, their concerns. The Fang Clan, once a great power, was now a minor force on the verge of collapse.
And yet, no one even remembered him.
A strange emotion stirred in his soul. Was it bitterness? Frustration?
Before he could dwell on it, another line of text appeared before his eyes.
[New Ability Unlocked: Dream Manifestation]
[Duration: 30 minutes]
[Warning: High Soul Energy Consumption]
A chance to interact.
For the first time, hope flickered within him.
Night fell over the Fang Clan's compound. The courtyard was silent, save for the quiet breathing of a lone figure a young cultivator, Fang Yichen, no older than sixteen, practicing basic sword forms. His stance was solid, but his movements lacked refinement, like a technique missing its foundation.
Fang Tianheng willed his consciousness forward. The world shifted, and suddenly, he was in an unfamiliar space inside the boy's dreams.
The dreamscape was hazy not clear, a reflection of the training ground. The boy repeated the same sword strokes, over and over.
Fang Tianheng stepped forward. For the first time since awakening, he could feel the ground beneath his feet.
"Your footing is wrong."
The boy froze. His breath hitched. He turned, eyes wide, scanning the empty air.
"Who-who's there?"
Fang Tianheng hesitated. His form was still indistinct, more of a shadow than a man. He realized he had a choice he could lie, pretend to be an omnipotent figure. Or he could... be honest.
"Someone who has been forgotten," he said carefully. "But if you listen, I can teach you."
The boy's expression wavered between fear and curiosity. But Fang Tianheng did not wait for permission. He moved beside him and adjusted his stance, showing a more stable foundation.
"Again."
Fang Yichen obeyed, mimicking the motion. His movements were still rough, but something had changed, a trace of qi stirred with his strike.
Fang Tianheng felt a flicker of satisfaction.
This was only the first step.
Before he could say more, a wave of fatigue crashed over him. His time was up.
As his form began to dissolve, he left Fang Yichen with one final command.
"Train in silence. Tell no one. If fate allows, we will meet again."
The boy opened his mouth to speak, but the dream shattered, and Fang Tianheng's consciousness was yanked back into the void.
Back in the abandoned ancestral hall, Fang Tianheng sank into the darkness, exhaustion weighing on his very existence.
But despite the strain, he felt something he hadn't since arriving in this world.
The Fang Clan had forgotten its roots. But he hadn't.
And if he could guide them, if he could rebuild what was lost, then maybe, just maybe, he had a chance to reclaim his own existence and attain his body once more.
Fang Tianheng had returned.
It was time the world remembered.