The darkness that swallowed Ruan after his body lost balance no longer felt like a bottomless abyss ready to tear away his life, but rather like a silent space that had been waiting for him for a time that could not be measured by any clock.
There was no bone-piercing cold, no crushing pressure on his chest, and no lurking presence waiting to frighten him from afar. There was only a stillness so gentle it felt like a thin blanket draped over a weary traveler after a long journey.
Ruan—who moments ago still felt the tension from the strange heartbeat inside his chest—now felt as though his body had dissolved into something lighter than mist, and his soul drifted weightlessly within a darkness that had no shape.
He slowly opened his eyes and was surprised to find that the surrounding darkness glowed in a different way. Not a brightness that forced him to blink, not a wild light that hurt his vision, but a soft gray luminescence emerging beneath his feet like a thin river flowing quietly across an indefinable ground.
The river of light curved gently, creating soft-glowing lines that formed a path his instincts urged him to follow. In the air, tiny motes of light floated like dust caught in sunlight, yet they neither rose nor fell—they simply drifted, following the ambient flow of energy that filled the place.
Ruan's chest swelled with a curious warmth that made his first step feel light. He walked without hesitation toward the river of light, marveling at how the air around him brushed softly against his skin.
"This place…" he murmured as he looked around, "doesn't feel like death. It doesn't even feel like a threat. It feels like a home I've never visited before."
A voice he had heard earlier in the valley answered him, but this time it came from much closer—like someone standing just behind his shoulder, speaking with a warmth almost impossible to associate with a corpse.
"That is because many come here in fear, but you are different. You come with your eyes open."
Ruan gave a small smile, the voice sounding more like a greeting than a call from an ancient entity.
"I don't know if I came with courage, or if I'm simply too foolish to be afraid," he said with a soft laugh.
The air carried a gentle vibration, as if the voice itself was smiling.
"Sometimes ignorance is a gift far greater than courage. You do not resist the world around you. You simply experience it."
Ruan continued walking along the river of light flowing toward the center of the space. With every step, the glowing lines beneath him trembled softly, responding to his presence like the surface of water touched by a fingertip. The space transformed gradually, revealing flickers of clearer forms. The gray mist thinned, and Ruan saw a vast chamber carved not from rock but from interwoven light and shadow. Its walls were not truly walls but rippling waves of gentle energy rising and falling like the breaths of the earth.
And at the center, he saw it.
A form that pulsed slowly, radiating a soft gray glow that warmed Ruan's heart for reasons he could not describe. It was not a statue, not a spirit, not even a creature.
It was a heart.
A heart not made of flesh or blood but of swirling layers of gray light, rotating in slow, graceful motions, sending out tiny ripples through the entire chamber.
It beat with the same rhythm as the pulse inside Ruan's chest.
Ruan stopped walking.
There was no fear, no stabbing dread.
Only awe.
Pure awe.
He felt as if he were witnessing something that should have remained hidden from human eyes, yet something within him had compelled this place to open its doors. He exhaled softly, "So beautiful…"
The voice in the space replied,
"This is what death looks like when the world has not stained it with fear."
Ruan chuckled lightly.
"If people knew death could look this beautiful, maybe they'd stop screaming whenever they see a corpse."
"The world does not fear corpses," the voice replied gently. "The world fears what it does not understand. And it chooses not to understand."
Ruan moved closer to the ancient heart and asked,
"If you are not a living being, what keeps you here after all this time?"
The voice answered with a nostalgic tone, like someone recalling a long-lost age.
"Desire. Not a desire to live, but a desire to remember. This heart has no business with the world. It only wished to wait for someone who sees death not as a dead end, but as a doorway."
Ruan smiled again.
"And you think I'm that person?"
"You do not yet fully understand yourself," the voice said calmly, "but my heart has decided for you."
Ruan stood directly before the ancient heart. He felt the gentle ripples of light brushing across the air. It felt like dipping his fingers into warm water—not frightening, only inviting. He raised his hand and said,
"If you chose me, then I want to know why. I want to know who you truly are."
A light chuckle resonated through the room.
"My name is Ashar, one who walked far deeper into death than any human should. I'm not proud of everything I did… yet I regret none of it."
Ruan nodded softly.
"You sound more like an old teacher than an ancient entity."
"I have been both," Ashar replied.
Ruan lifted his hand toward the ancient heart. He did not hesitate nor tremble—only curiosity filled him. When his fingers touched the surface of light, a warm current flowed into his body, spreading through every fiber of muscle. The energy did not destroy—it filled him like water filling an empty bowl. His body felt light, his wounds soothed away under the rhythmic warmth.
Ruan closed his eyes, letting the energy seep in slowly, not resisting, simply drifting with the flow like someone letting a river carry them without fear.
"This… is incredible," he whispered in wonder.
"Because you accept it without resistance," Ashar replied. "This heart does not wish to control you. It only wishes to join with you."
Ruan felt his cracked bones strengthen. His frail qi channels expanded, as if the world within him grew larger than his physical body. From the center of his chest, the ancient heart's rhythm began syncing with his own. Two rhythms slowly merged into one.
When he opened his eyes, the gray light in the chamber moved with his breath—not the chamber's pulse.
The space responded to him, not Ashar.
The river of light on the floor began flowing faster, while the floating motes swirled around him like stars celebrating the birth of a new sky.
"What happens when this fusion is complete?" Ruan asked—not out of fear, but out of curiosity for what awaited him outside.
Ashar sighed like a teacher watching a student step further than expected.
"Then you will see the world the way only someone who has crossed a door others cannot can ever see."
Ruan gazed at the gray light with a full heart.
"Does this mean I won't be the same anymore?"
"You will remain yourself," Ashar said, "but the world will treat you as something it fears."
Ruan let out a quiet chuckle.
"The world always fears what it doesn't understand. I won't let their fear change who I am."
Ashar sounded relieved.
"That is why I chose you."
The energy pulsed more firmly, flowing through his entire being until Ruan felt he no longer belonged to the limitations he once knew. He stepped back slightly and looked at his hands, now faintly glowing with gray light.
There was no pain.
No fear.
Only awe.
Ruan looked around the chamber once more.
"What happens next?"
Ashar replied with a voice as gentle as the first breeze of a newborn world,
"Now you awaken. Not as someone the world has rejected… but as someone who will see the world with eyes that have crossed death."
Ruan bowed his head respectfully, even though he could not see Ashar directly.
"Thank you… for waiting."
Ashar's voice softened, almost like a message left behind as a final farewell.
"I did not wait for anyone. Yet I am grateful it was you who came."
Ruan felt the world shift.
The gray light dimmed.
The river of light shrank into a thin line.
The chamber slowly returned to darkness.
But this darkness felt like a doorway—not a trap.
He felt his body being pulled back toward the valley.
His form regained weight.
His lungs filled with breath.
The valley's cold brushed against his skin.
But he was not the same man.
He opened his eyes in the real world.
The valley's mist felt different.
The place no longer resembled a graveyard.
It felt like a land offering a quiet signal.
And from within his body, Ashar's voice whispered softly:
"You live at last…"
Ruan drew a long breath and smiled.
"And I'm ready to see the world with new eyes."