Rebirth
Hei Yunchen opened his eyes to incense smoke.
To murals unbroken. To ancestors still alive. To a future that had not yet collapsed.
He had been reborn three months before the Nine God Dynasty's descent.
At first, he thought it was madness.
Then the qi changed.
And he knew.
Since that day, he had done everything possible:
Avoided attention
Feigned mediocrity
Gathered information quietly
Watched the borders like a condemned man watching the sky
When the envoys returned pale and shaking, his blood ran cold.
Because the words matched exactly.
"A young emperor."
"Golden throne."
"Land recognizing its owner."
Not similar.
Identical.
Back to the Present
Kneeling before the ancestor, Hei Yunchen's fists trembled.
Not from fear.
From memory.
This time… I won't die ignorant.
When he said "Chosen One," he hadn't been guessing.
He had been confirming.
If the Heavenly Black Sun Dynasty provoked Feng Hao again…
There would be no second chance.
Private Thought (Unspoken)
Nine God Emperor…
In my past life, I was crushed beneath your shadow.
In this one…
I will kneel early enough to live.
Thirty years after the fall of the Heavenly Black Sun Dynasty, the world had changed.
And yet, some things had only become clearer.
Hei Yunchen survived.
Not by luck. Not by mercy.
But because he learned when to kneel.
After crawling out of the ruins of his annihilated dynasty, he vanished from the central regions. He changed names, severed karma, erased bloodline traces. For ten years, he lived like a wandering corpse—robbing graves, stealing inheritances, cultivating forbidden arts no one else dared touch.
Hatred kept him alive.
Fear kept him sharp.
At 50 years old — He broke into Divine Transformation Realm.
In any other era, that would have been enough to dominate a region, establish a sect, call himself an overlord.
But this was that era.
Because by then—
The Nine God Dynasty already had Kings.
Not one.
Not two.
An entire generation.
And above them all—
That young emperor from his nightmares.
Feng Hao.
Still young. Still seated on a golden throne. Still expanding.
When Hei Yunchen sensed the emperor's aura from half a domain away, his dao heart nearly shattered.
Not because of suppression.
But because of clarity.
Revenge… is impossible.
The difference between Divine Transformation and King Realm was not cultivation.
It was existence.
Kings did not fight.
They decreed.
So Hei Yunchen abandoned hatred.
He swallowed it.
Refined it.
And chose survival.
Founding of the Black Sun Remnant Dynasty
In a remote border region untouched by Nine God authority, Hei Yunchen founded a new dynasty.
He did not call it Heavenly. He did not use ancestral titles. He erased the past.
He ruled carefully. Paid tribute early. Avoided Nine God nobles like plague.
For decades, his dynasty prospered.
Children were born. Bloodlines stabilized. History began to forget.
Hei Yunchen became an old man.
And for the first time since his rebirth—
He believed he had escaped fate.
The Son Who Didn't Remember Fear
His third son was talented.
Too talented.
Born with a high-grade spirit root. Arrogant. Untainted by annihilation.
He grew up hearing only fragments of the past.
"Be cautious." "Never provoke Nine God." "Kneel if you must."
But caution without memory is just noise.
One day, his son entered a Nine God-controlled city.
There, he saw a Noble.
Not an emperor. Not a general.
Just a noble.
Yet the city bent around him. Qi obeyed his footsteps. Others lowered their heads unconsciously.
The son sneered.
"So this is a dog of Nine God?"
That sentence—
Ended a dynasty.
Annihilation — Again
No war.
No declaration.
A single Nine God envoy arrived.
A single jade decree was unsealed.
"By authority of the Nine God Dynasty—
The Black Sun Remnant Dynasty is erased."
Heaven responded.
Lightning without thunder. Fire without heat. Pressure without form.
Cities collapsed. Spirit veins evaporated. Bloodlines severed at the root.
Hei Yunchen watched it all from the palace steps.
This time—
He didn't scream.
Didn't beg.
Didn't run.
He just laughed.
Softly.
Bitterly.
"So… this is how it ends again."
When the pressure descended—
He bowed toward the Nine God direction.
Not in submission.
In understanding.
Final Thought
In my first life, I died ignorant.
In my second life, I died knowing.
The difference…
Is meaningless before absolute authority.
Far away, in the Nine God Dynasty—
No one remembered his name.
And Feng Hao never knew he existed.
Which, perhaps—
Was the greatest mercy fate ever gave him.
Back to the Present.
Hei Yunchen stood in the ancestral hall, the incense smoke curling like ghosts around the polished wooden pillars. His father, the current emperor, sat rigid in his throne, jaw tight with stubborn pride. Behind him, the ancestors—those whose portraits and spirit tablets had guided the dynasty for centuries—watched silently, their gaze heavy with judgment.
Hei Yunchen bowed deeply, then straightened. His voice was calm, controlled, but each word carried the weight of experience.
"Father… Ancestors… I have seen what comes if we resist."
The emperor's hands clenched into fists. "You speak nonsense! We have survived five thousand years by strength, not submission. We bow to no one."
"Please father.. If we provoke him that will be the end of us please father.."
Seeing his son begging like this his heart couldn't bear it.
He said
"What makes you think we will be destroyed?"
Hei Yunchen's gaze didn't waver. "Father… I have seen it. Not in speculation. Not in rumor. I have seen what happens to dynasties that provoke him. The Nine God Emperor… he does not need armies to destroy you. He does not need banners to erase history. One word. One decree. And all that we have… all of us… is gone."
The ancestral portraits behind them seemed to shift subtly, as if the generations themselves stirred at the weight of his words. The elders, usually silent pillars of judgment, whispered among themselves, unease threading through their murmurs.
The emperor's fingers drummed against the armrest. Pride warred with instinct. "I have ruled for decades. Our people trust my strength. Our ancestors trust our bloodline. How can you speak so boldly of submission?"
Hei Yunchen stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Because boldness alone will not save them. Because pride alone will not save us. Do you want our dynasty's name to be remembered in fear… or in memory?"
He paused, letting the weight of that hang in the air. His eyes softened, showing not fear but clarity. "Father… ancestors… if we kneel now, we live. We retain our people, our lands, our bloodline. We may even flourish under his influence. Resist… and even if I begged for mercy, it would mean nothing. I have… seen the end."
The emperor swallowed hard. His chest rose and fell unevenly. His mind raced, recalling the stories of distant dynasties erased overnight, of envoys who returned pale and silent, of lands bending before a single emperor's will.
One of the eldest ancestors spoke, voice cracking with age but carrying a stern edge. "The boy speaks truth. Pride without reason is death. Wisdom is in survival, even if it means bending."
Hei Yunchen's heart remained calm. He didn't smile. He didn't shout. He only continued, voice steady. "Submit, and we live to see another age. Submit, and our heirs will inherit a dynasty, not ruins. Submit, and we may yet find power under his shadow. Resist, and I… and you… and every soul tied to this dynasty… will vanish as if we never existed."
Silence filled the hall. The emperor's jaw flexed. He looked at the ancestors, whose eyes seemed to weigh the very fate of their dynasty. Slowly… the tension ebbed.
Finally, the emperor exhaled, voice low but resolute. "Very well… we will submit. Not because we are afraid… but because wisdom demands it. Let it be known: the Black Sun Dynasty bows to the Nine God Emperor's authority. We endure. We survive. Our name continues."
Hei Yunchen bowed deeply, a sense of relief hidden beneath calm resolve. "This is not defeat. This… is survival. And in survival, there is hope."
The ancestors' gaze softened, acceptance settling over centuries of pride. The incense smoke curled around them, carrying a quiet resonance of obedience—not out of fear, but out of understanding.
Hei Yunchen straightened, voice quiet yet firm. "Inform all provincial lords. Inform all officials. From this day forward, the Nine God Emperor's influence is recognized, and all tribute and allegiance will follow. We move wisely, and the dynasty lives."
The hall remained silent for a moment, the weight of centuries pressing down, but now tempered by choice. Hei Yunchen had secured not only his father's will but the approval of the ancestors—he had bent the dynasty's pride without breaking it.
And somewhere far away, beyond borders and mountains, the golden light of Feng Hao's throne spread silently, touching lands without a word spoken, already marking the Black Sun Dynasty as part of the Nine God Dynasty's growing influence.