The room was silent, save for the shallow, ragged breathing of a dying man.
Liu Guan Yi, once the richest man on Earth, lay on his grand bed—silken sheets, golden pillars, priceless medicine lined across the room—none of it could stop death.
He had lived a full century. Built an empire. Outlived rivals, buried friends, toppled kings of commerce. But now, at the edge of life, he was afraid.
His fingers trembled.
> "I bought everything… except time."
He laughed bitterly. The laugh turned into a cough. Blood flecked his lips.
Then, a memory emerged—his mother's voice, soft and worn by years:
> "Many will try to stop you. But you must persevere and pursue your goal…"
But what was his goal?
Not money. Not fame. Not applause from boardrooms and backstabbers.
> "I only wanted to live."
And he failed.
As darkness crept into his vision, Liu Guan Yi whispered with cracked lips, "My life… was worthless."
His eyes closed.
Silence.
Then—chaos.
A scream echoed through the halls: "Young master is alive!"
Liu Guan Yi gasped, his chest rising violently. His eyes flew open—not tired and clouded, but sharp, young, and burning with confusion.
He stumbled toward a mirror.
The face staring back at him wasn't an old man—it was a boy.
Fifteen years old. Black hair. Cold eyes. A noble robe clinging to a thin, princely frame.
His breath caught.
This… wasn't Earth.
It was the start of something else.
The beginning of everything.