From Shadows to Stars

Silas Thorne's consciousness wandered in the darkness, and he didn't know how long it had been, when a strange feeling came to his mind. As if something was attracting him, he moved forward in a daze.

A cloud of white flickered with a faint light, and gradually, it became more and more dim. This was a mass of soul bodies that were about to dissipate...

"Woo, young master, wake up quickly, young master, don't scare Emily." There was a whimper in the darkness, filled with anxiety and fear.

"Who is this? Am I not dead?" Silas Thorne thought in a trance, and slowly, he opened his closed eyes.

"Little... Ringlet?" Looking at the unfamiliar face in front of him in a daze, Silas felt very strange. He clearly didn't know the girl, but she seemed familiar-and more strangely, he had called out her name. "What's going on?"

"Young master, you finally woke up-woo-you scared Emily to death." Wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, the girl looked very relieved. "Young master, what's wrong with you? Why did you faint all of a sudden?"

Looking at the scene in front of him, Silas was certain that he had not imagined his death. He couldn't believe it-he had actually been reborn.

Scenes from his previous life emerged in his heart. His parents were senior white-collar workers at a well-known company, and their living conditions were excellent. He should have enjoyed a good life being born into such a family. But happiness only lasted until the age of three. A very ordinary fall, a very ordinary examination-yet it brought news terrible enough to ruin a lifetime.

Incurable disease! Yes, at three years old, he had been diagnosed with a rare terminal illness. From the moment he could understand the world, he had only been accompanied by countless drugs and cold surgical tools. He couldn't go to school, couldn't play with other kids, couldn't even get out of bed for long-and death was always near. That lonely, painful childhood made him increasingly withdrawn.

Thankfully, he had books. Through them, he escaped. He absorbed knowledge like a sponge-astronomy, geography, history, and even fantastical, magical stories.

Those years were the happiest of his life, full of imagination and meaning. But the illness never stopped consuming him. It worsened over time, weakening his body further and further.

Eventually, after one last surgery, he never woke up.

...

The current owner of Silas Thorne's body was also called Silas. He was the young master of the Thorne family. The family was well-known in the surrounding region, with a population of more than 1,000 and many powerful cultivators. Under the leadership of the current head-Silas's father, Gerald Thorne-the family was thriving. But...

Silas had always been frail and sickly. Despite years of effort, he was still stuck at the third level of martial arts cultivation-and even that had been achieved through the use of elixirs. His father, Gerald, was the family head but showed little affection for his son. Silas never lacked food or shelter, but he had no talent for cultivation. He was barely noticed by his father. The only person who truly cared for him was Emily, the maid left behind after his mother died. Silas's status within the family had always been low... These hardships wore down his already weak body, and eventually, he passed away.

After digesting these memories, Silas sighed. This world-so magical-was something he'd only read about in novels in his previous life. Now, he had inherited both the name and the memories of the original owner. No wonder he had been so disoriented upon waking up.

But thinking about his current situation, Silas felt a headache coming on. His mother was gone, his father didn't care for him, and he bore the humiliating title of "waste." Was there a life more difficult than this?

"Young Master! Young Master!" As Silas pondered everything, the world spun suddenly, and he saw Emily shaking his hand desperately. "Young master, why are you asleep again? Hmph! Do you know the old man sent someone to find you just now? He ordered you to attend the banquet tonight! Why are you still sleeping?"

Emily was flustered. Tears of anxiety welled up in her eyes. Though father and son, Gerald Thorne rarely saw his son. If he summoned him now, it had to be something important-and yet Silas had fallen asleep again!

Looking at the nervous girl in front of him-who had just been worried about why he had fainted and was now anxious he might fall asleep again-Silas felt a trace of warmth in his heart. It was clear that she genuinely cared for him. He knew that in this world, very few people truly cared for him. Emily was one of them.

Silas touched her head gently, feeling a bit awkward. He couldn't tell her about his previous memories before he fully understood his new body.

"Emily, step out for a while. Let me be alone for a bit," Silas said softly.

"Alright, but young master, don't fall asleep again. It's getting late." She seemed worried but obeyed, leaving with a final reminder.

"Do I really fall asleep that easily?" he muttered.

"Who told the young master to like sleeping so much? Hehe..." Her silver bell-like laughter faded as she walked away.

Silas sank back into deep thought. As the saying goes, to cure a problem, you have to start from the root. If he wanted to shake off the label of "waste," he had to begin by fixing this body.

After some time, he mumbled, "Strange... there's nothing wrong with the body." It was a bit weak, sure-but only by the standards of a cultivator. Compared to his frail body in his past life, this one was already quite good. He had even consumed many elixirs when he was younger. "How could this body not be able to cultivate?"

After pondering for a long time, Silas decided to stop overthinking. It was better to test it directly. He closed his eyes and began circulating the Thorne family's ancestral mental technique.

His consciousness moved forward, layer after layer, as if piercing through veils. He didn't know how long it took-but suddenly, everything lit up. He saw another world-a world made entirely of glowing points of light.

At that moment, Silas was suspended in the air, surrounded by these shimmering dots. "It's beautiful. It's... breathtaking." He felt as if he were in a galaxy, stars all around him. He could even see some of the lights merging into his body.

In his room, Silas sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, not moving. If anyone had been present, they would've noticed the air changing-as if a hurricane were forming. Spiritual energy visible to the naked eye surged toward him from every direction.

Bathed in that warmth, Silas felt as if his whole body were soaking in the ocean. All his pores pulsed with joy. Slowly, black filth began to seep from his skin-impurities that had built up over many years. Normally, a person could only expel such waste after reaching the "innate" level of cultivation-except through very rare elixirs. But what was happening now clearly defied all conventional understanding.

This was an incredible opportunity!

Time passed...

"Whew!" Silas exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. The swirling spiritual energy vanished instantly. He didn't fully understand what had just occurred, or how miraculous it was-but he knew one thing: his strength had increased!

"What power!" Silas clenched his fists. "With this kind of progress after just one cultivation session, I'll reach the fourth level of martial arts in no time."

In his previous life, illness chained him down. But in this life, he would live brilliantly!

Getting out of bed and gazing at the stars outside his window, Silas murmured, "...in this life..."