Chapter Nine: The Mystery Within the Womb

The room was white and reeked of disinfectant, the smell unpleasant and oppressive. As the footsteps faded away, Xiao Nan, lying quietly, slowly opened his eyes.

Sunlight poured harshly through the window, casting bright rays over the lush green trees outside—the hospital’s environment was clearly excellent. The clear and melodious chirping of birds drifted in, bringing a rare sense of peace to Xiao Nan’s heart.

He let out a long breath to calm his unsettled spirit, pushed himself up to a half-sitting position, and lowered his head to look at his chest.

“So I really have crossed over… The bronze mirror-shaped birthmark has faded so much, you’d hardly notice it unless you looked closely.”

The mark on his chest was now almost indiscernible. Xiao Nan reached out and gently touched it, feeling a searing heat emanate from within, and even the slight raised pattern in flesh tones could still be felt beneath his fingers.

“Why did this happen? Who am I now, in this new identity? I remember a ball of golden threads being devoured by this birthmark, and suddenly everything changed.”

“Was the bronze mirror birthmark activated by that golden radiance?”

Xiao Nan vaguely sensed that if he wanted to unravel his current state, he would have to start with the birthmark.

He distinctly remembered being surrounded on the sea by the military, struck by seven or eight bullets—a situation from which survival should have been impossible. Yet here he was, alive in another body; there had to be a reason.

“Upon hearing of my misfortune, would anyone grieve for me?”

He lingered for a while on memories of his former world.

His family had died young; he’d been unanchored for years. After joining the Bloodthorn, he’d dedicated himself to the nation, endlessly carrying out missions—a life that offered little worth longing for.

He’d never settled in one place for long; everyone who passed through his life was but a fleeting acquaintance.

As such, he’d never truly had friends.

Yet, there was still a faint trace of yearning.

A gentle figure flitted across his mind, faint and colorless with the passage of time.

“Perhaps she forgot me years ago…”

Recalling the danger of his last mission, and the utter failure his life had become, Xiao Nan’s gaze grew distant—then suddenly, he felt revived.

All things considered, not being dead was a blessing.

Life was infinitely precious; being alive was truly wonderful.

“I’ve taken on a frailer body, and now I’m uncharacteristically sentimental.”

He felt at peace, his fingers pressing more firmly against the birthmark.

The national treasure he’d risked his life to reclaim—the bronze mirror—what was its true nature?

At that very moment, his vision swam.

Before his eyes unfolded a vast plaza shrouded in gray mist, spanning several dozen meters—about the size of a soccer field. At the center was a pool of water, gently shimmering, refracting sunlight into a spectrum of colors.

Mist veiled every direction, and though his feet stood in thick fog, there was a heavy and solid sensation beneath them.

Looking around, he saw scattered points of light fluttering like fireflies.

These tiny stars stirred a sense of intimacy in Xiao Nan’s heart.

He looked down and saw his body had turned faint and translucent, its outline hazy, entirely unreal.

He immediately understood what had happened to his form.

Such an illusory body could never be called flesh and blood.

It could only be called a ghost, or more precisely, a soul.

Yet, curiously, he still felt touch.

He took a few steps—footsteps echoed. He pinched his arm—there was a distinct, pressing pain.

How marvelous.

At the very center of the plaza, a golden ball of thread appeared, sometimes twisting into a circle, sometimes stretching into a line, sometimes shaping itself into a human form.

“This is what was swallowed by the birthmark when that evil beast was destroyed.”

A surge of longing rose within Xiao Nan, and almost involuntarily, he moved swiftly closer to the golden mass.

As he drew near, the golden glow leapt onto him, and immediately he felt a gentle heat suffuse his body, the golden light intensifying.

Startled, he stretched out his hands and saw his once faint and insubstantial body had solidified.

Smooth, pale arms; a tall, slender frame—except for the faint golden sheen across his skin, he looked no different from before.

What was this?

Suddenly, a wind arose; the star-like lights filling the misty space swarmed toward him like moths to a flame.

Xiao Nan’s body trembled, freezing in place as a torrent of images and voices flooded his mind.

Scenes both familiar and strange appeared one by one…

From babbling as a child, to diligent study; there was sweetness and warmth, pain and anxiety, embarrassment and struggle.

“Xiao Nan, you lack the talent. Don’t bother applying for the martial arts course. The Meditation of Starry Skies and Bright Moon is simply beyond your grasp.”

“You’re so timid and weak, nothing like your father.”

“It’s time to train your body. Even if you can’t cultivate the spirit, you shouldn’t be so helplessly weak.”

“The Eighty-One Forms of Divine Will Tempering are excellent for strengthening your vital energy. At the very least, practice until you master them. But you can’t even get the stance right, so don’t waste your time.”

“Let’s duel. I’ll let you strike first.”

“Pretty boy, you’re the disgrace of our class. Don’t embarrass yourself any further—go home and drink your milk.”

All these images, fragmented and jumbled, surged into his heart, feeling both alien and intimately familiar—as if they were his own memories.

He felt their emotions as his own—disappointment, expectation, contempt, and scorn all crashed over him in a tidal wave, nearly suffocating his spirit.

His thoughts became ever clearer…

With the appearance of these images, he gradually understood his circumstances.

These were fragments of the original Xiao Nan’s seventeen years of life, now coalescing in memory.

No wonder the previous owner of this body was famed for cowardice and weakness—when taken as a sacrificial offering, faced with bloody rituals and fearsome statues, knowing he was about to be devoured, his mind had collapsed entirely under terror.

The star-like lights drifting in the misty space must have been fragments of a soul scattered by fear, now devoid of consciousness.

And this space—it was the birthmark on his chest, which was also the bronze treasure mirror he had fought so hard to reclaim.

For reasons unknown, it had transformed into this misty plaza.

According to the memories, the birthmark had been present since birth—so perhaps he really had reincarnated.

Maybe the bronze mirror had carried his soul here, and only now had he awakened, the mysteries of the womb dispelled.

Many things remained unclear, but Xiao Nan chose not to dwell on them.

He didn’t know what further uses this bronze mirror’s space held; for now, he knew only that it could absorb and devour certain things, thereby strengthening his soul.

Soul, he thought, for this body no longer seemed to be flesh and blood.

What delighted him was the discovery that his spiritual power had grown tremendously.