Damn it…
Lin Yan's thoughts were in disarray, torn between the searing physical pain of being pushed into an abyss — the fall shattering every bone in his body, making even the slightest breath impossible — and the agony of betrayal by the woman he once called sister.
How could she do this to me?!
He asked himself, but no answer came. His fate was sealed. He would die alone in the depths of the abyss — abandoned, betrayed, forgotten.
In that fleeting moment, Lin Yan's life flashed before his eyes, each memory a thread leading to this bitter end.
He had been an orphan, left to fend for himself on the streets. Had it not been for the Lin family, he would have starved to death — or worse, been sold into slavery. Life with the Lin family had been simple. He never had much, but he was never without.
Mr. and Mrs. Lin were kind and caring, and with little Lin Mei, he had made a vow — a vow to protect her always.
They grew up together, bound by an unspoken connection. It had once felt as though nothing could tear them apart.
But everything changed when a cultivator from the Open Sky Sect visited. Upon witnessing Lin Mei's extraordinary talent, he decided to take her in as his disciple. Lin Yan had begged to go with her, unable to bear the thought of being left behind.
Though his own talent wasn't outstanding, it wasn't lacking either — and so the cultivator agreed. After all, one more promising disciple would never be a burden to the sect.
Yet from that point on, the distance between them began to grow. Lin Mei progressed with terrifying speed, surpassing every other disciple in the sect. Lin Yan, on the other hand… his talent was average. No matter how hard he trained or cultivated, she became more and more unreachable.
The gap between them became absolute the day Lin Mei fell in love with the sect's core disciple. From that moment on, any hope of reconciliation vanished like smoke. She now belonged to someone else.
And the worst part? Lin Yan could do nothing about it. The gulf between him and the core disciple was like that between heaven and earth — utterly insurmountable.
But fate, it seemed, hadn't given up on him just yet. During a mission for the sect, he stumbled upon an Immortal Seed — a miraculous item capable of reshaping one's destiny, granting divine talent and the potential to ascend to immortality.
Foolishly, he believed Lin Mei wished to mend their broken bond when she invited him to a remote part of the sect grounds. In truth, all she wanted was the Immortal Seed.
She struck him down, stole the priceless treasure, and pushed him into the abyss without a shred of remorse.
It seemed the elders of the sect were complicit in her actions, for no one came to his aid — no matter how loudly he screamed for help.
And so, Lin Yan died in the darkness.
Alone. Afraid. In pain.
***
In the midst of a sprawling metropolis, a police chase was underway.
Han Ling fled frantically, slipping into one of the city's shadowy alleyways to shake off the police. Only one of the two officers was brave enough to follow him in—a fatal mistake.
"Stop right there! You're not—URK!" Before the officer could finish his sentence, Han Ling stabbed him in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs.
Without giving the officer a chance to recover, Han Ling snapped his neck with chilling efficiency.
"Lin Hao!?" the second officer called out, voice laced with fear. He had heard his partner's scream, but the dread of entering a dark alley with the infamous serial killer Han Ling made him hesitate.
Still, he knew he couldn't stand idle. Summoning the last of his courage, he stepped into the darkness—a grave mistake, as Han Ling snapped his neck just moments later.
Han Ling moved with the precision of a natural predator. His victims never even saw what killed them.
Kicking the second officer's body aside, Han Ling muttered to himself with a touch of indifference, "What a shame. More cops will be here soon. I won't have time to leave my mark."
Though his voice was calm, a subtle tension underlined his words. Han Ling knew he couldn't take on a full squad of trained officers. He was, after all, only human—and he wouldn't be able to catch them off guard like he had with these two rookies.
Still, it bothered him. He hated not being able to leave his signature.
Han Ling's mark was a carved symbol of a slashed infinity sign on the flesh of his victims.
Many investigators interpreted it as a sign of an abrupt end. Some theorized it was part of a demonic ritual, others believed it was just another attention-seeking killer. The possibilities were endless.
In truth, they were all wrong. The mark was simply Han Ling's way of saying "hi" to the police.
Shaking his head in disappointment, Han Ling turned to leave, never once looking back.
Bang!
A gunshot echoed, lighting up the alley in a flash. The bullet struck Han Ling's right leg with perfect precision, making him stumble and crash to the ground.
He hadn't seen it coming and couldn't dodge in time. But what surprised Han Ling most wasn't the shot itself—it was the shooter's accuracy.
The bullet had hit his joint, disabling the leg entirely. It was worth noting: Han Ling was hidden in a dark alley and was using his Stealth Gift. Hitting such a precise shot under those conditions should've been impossible.
Han Ling turned his head toward the alley's entrance, eyes searching for the shooter. Escape wasn't on his mind. Not with his leg in that state—he knew it was impossible.
And from the precision of the shot, Han Ling deduced the shooter could've easily ended his life with a shot to the head—but hadn't. That intrigued him.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
The measured, deliberate footsteps of a woman echoed down the alley. She moved with an elegance that belied her lethality, walking directly to where Han Ling lay—even though he was cloaked in shadow and hiding behind his Stealth Gift. It was as if she could see him regardless.
As she drew closer, Han Ling was able to make out her face.
She was beautiful and cold, her features fine and flawless like those carved by a sculptor. Her skin was pale and perfect, her ocean-blue eyes piercing as if they could see into the soul. Her lips were firm and emotionless, and her raven-black hair cascaded flawlessly over her shoulders.
Recognizing her, Han Ling spoke her name with hesitation. "Han Xinrou?"
"Oh? You still remember me?" Han Xinrou seemed surprised that he recalled her name.
"Of course I do. How could I ever forget the love of my life?" Han Ling said smoothly, even as his left hand crept toward the hidden pistol in his jacket.
Bang!
"How sweet~" Han Xinrou cooed in a sugary voice as she shot Han Ling's hand, making him drop the weapon.
"You thought I'd fall for your tricks again, Han Ling?" Her voice turned cold, disturbing in its harshness.
Han Ling's injuries were severe, his blood pooling beneath him. And yet, he seemed unfazed, still composed even in the face of death.
"How cruel of you to say that, Han Xinrou! Don't you know how much I love you?" Han Ling said, his voice full of pain, as though her words had hurt more than the bullet.
"Cruel? Han Ling... You abandoned me! We were supposed to be together forever! But you broke your promise!" Han Xinrou's voice cracked, her pain spilling out with every word. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she stared at the serene figure of Han Ling, as if he were mocking her anguish.
This time, her words struck a chord in Han Ling, bringing flashes of memory to the surface. Two siblings who had only each other. Inseparable. Closer than most brothers and sisters. They made a promise to live and die together. But one broke that promise—Han Ling had left her behind.
"Han Xinrou… I know I abandoned you… But I realized our relationship couldn't work. I wanted to spare you the pain," Han Ling's calm voice cracked slightly, his ice-blue eyes showing the faintest trace of regret.
"Really?! You thought leaving me wouldn't hurt?!" Han Xinrou's voice rose an octave, her fury blazing as she shot him twice more in the abdomen.
Bang! Bang!
Han Ling's face turned pale—whether from blood loss or pain, it was hard to tell.
"You bastard!! Did you even care how I felt?! Or could you just not stand the idea of being with your sister?!" Han Xinrou's voice was filled with hate and disgust. She held back from shooting him again—not because of mercy, but because she didn't want him to die just yet. She wanted him to suffer first.
Han Ling spread his arms open, as if laying himself bare, truly remorseful.
"I'm sorry... I was selfish. I only thought of myself and ignored your feelings... But... I hope you can forgive me someday." This time, his voice held no deceit—only the raw vulnerability of a broken man.
He continued, his voice still earnest and haunting: "I never felt anything since the day I was born. You were the first person who ever made me feel... anything. And it scared me. So I ran. I ran from those feelings. I ran from you."
Han Xinrou stood frozen, her brother's vulnerability striking her to the core. The image of the cold, unfeeling man shattered bit by bit. She hadn't forgiven him—but knowing he had suffered too eased her pain slightly.
She didn't respond immediately, but the trembling in her hand that held the gun betrayed her emotional turmoil. Slowly, tears began to stream down her cheeks, and she tried desperately to wipe them away, clinging to her hardened facade.
Han Xinrou knelt beside him, gun still trained on his chest, though her hand trembled as if it weighed a ton.
"You... you can't just say that now, after everything you've done," she whispered, voice choked.
Han Ling coughed up blood, his body collapsing, yet his eyes remained fixed on her—as though she were the only person in the world.
"I know... but I thought I should confess before dying. To lift the weight off my soul," Han Ling smiled faintly. It would've been beautiful if not for the blood trailing from his lips.
Han Xinrou smiled in return, radiantly, and said, "Ling-kun, do you remember our promise?"
Han Ling looked at her with dimming eyes, already on the edge of death. He heard her words, but his mind was too slow to process them.
He lay in a pool of his own blood—a warm, oddly comforting feeling—as his eyes slowly shut.
Han Xinrou saw his state and shook him, pleading with him to open his eyes, begging not to lose him again.
But Han Ling did not respond. Her voice felt too distant now. The last thing he heard before everything faded into darkness... was a gunshot.
Thus, Han Ling died.
***
End of the first chapter. This is my first book, I hope you like it.