Chapter 1: A Desperate Rebirth
The salty tang of the sea wind hit Lin Yuan’s lungs like a physical blow, thick with the rotting stench of seaweed.
His eyes snapped open, the world a blur of gray and grit, as if a layer of old cotton had been smeared over his vision.
His head split at the seams, as if a dull rod were being twisted violently inside his skull. Fragments of memory crashed into him like a tidal wave.
1970. The Dock. A fallen aristocrat. Disowned by the family.
Those cold, hard words instantly restructured his scrambled consciousness.
Before he could sit up, a sharp sting bloomed in his wrists. Coarse hemp rope had dug deep into his skin, chafed raw and bleeding.
Lin Yuan looked down, realizing he was tied roughly to a massive, rusted iron crate, his back pressed tight against the freezing metal wall.
Surrounding him was the ruin of an abandoned warehouse. Torn canvas flapped in the wind, snapping loudly, blotting out most of the sky.
In the distance, the cranes of the Dock jutted out like the skeletal ribcage of a giant beast, pointing toward the murky, dirty sea.
“Awake?”
A cold voice seeped out of the shadows, dripping with open malice.
Zhao Tai stepped out of the darkness, his leather boots crunching satisfyingly on broken glass.
Two brutes followed close behind, their faces thick with excess flesh, eyes full of pure violence.
Zhao Tai appraised Lin Yuan, a sneer twisting his mouth: “Look at Lin Family’s kicked-out waste, actually still standing. I guess your old man’s teachings weren’t completely in vain.”
Lin Yuan didn’t struggle. Instead, he slowly lifted his head, his gaze calm to the point of being unsettling.
He cataloged Zhao Tai’s position, the stances of the two henchmen, and rapidly calculated the odds of escaping in his head.
Seeing the silence, a predatory light sharpened in Zhao Tai’s eyes. He stepped forward, pinching Lin Yuan’s chin with one hand.
“Lin Yuan, stop playing dead.” Zhao Tai’s voice dropped, carrying the scent of blood. “I know you’re hiding something. Your father didn’t throw you out for no reason.”
“You’ve got the Lin Family’s last inheritance on you, don’t you?”
Lin Yuan swallowed hard, forcing down the acid churning in his stomach, his voice rough and grainy: “Zhao Tai, you’re overthinking it. Besides my life, I have nothing.”
“Nothing?” Zhao Tai let out a cold snort. He yanked his hand back, and Lin Yuan’s head slammed into the iron crate with a dull thud.
Zhao Tai turned his gaze to the rust-ridden crate, his expression shifting to one of pure greed: “Well, maybe this box has something worth the trip?”
The henchmen behind him exchanged a glance. One stepped forward and kicked the crate with all his strength.
*Crash.* The sound echoed loudly. The lid of the crate was kicked open, revealing a hollow, empty interior.
No cash. No jewelry. Just a few moldy clumps of sponge and scattered waste paper.
Zhao Tai’s face instantly darkened. The playful mask vanished, replaced by raging fury.
“You mock the throne! You mock me, Zhao Tai!” He yanked a dagger from his waist, the blade flashing with a chilling gleam.
“Lin Yuan, you dare use an empty box to toy with me?” Zhao Tai pressed the tip of the dagger into Lin Yuan’s chest. “Now, hand over that inheritance you mentioned. Or I’ll throw you in the sea to feed the fish.”
Lin Yuan’s heart dropped, but his expression remained perfectly still, even betraying a hint of helplessness.
“Zhao Tai, I brought this crate, sure, but it really is just garbage.”
“Garbage?” Zhao Tai roared. He shoved Lin Yuan hard, sending him backward until his back slammed against the inner wall of the crate.
The pain was blinding. In that split second between life and death, his fingertips accidentally brushed against the rusted steel plate on the interior.
The moment he made contact, the world seemed to freeze.
A sharp, piercing whine erupted in his ears. Then, clear fragments of memory flooded his brain like a wave.
It was a voice from ten years ago, sharp and urgent.
“Stop! This is the Customs Inspection Zone, no unauthorized personnel allowed!”
“Unit A-109, forced open!”
“Gold purity 99.99 percent, batch 73, seal immediately!”
“Seal affixed. No one is to open it without authorization. Violators will face legal action!”
Lin Yuan’s pupils constricted. The voices hit him like physical shockwaves, instantly burning away his fear.
[Echo of All Things]. His Cheat Ability. It had activated.
He could clearly “hear” the life trajectory of this iron crate.
It wasn’t scrap metal. It was a special transport crate disguised as waste.
Ten years ago, it had been seized by Customs, containing a shocking amount of high-purity gold.
It was re-sealed, slipped into the black market, bounced around, and ended up in his hands.
What chilled him further was that in the audio memory, a clear female voice could be heard muttering curses at the Customs seal, followed by the hurried sounds of crates being moved.
He knew that voice well.
Su Wan.
Su Wan, the benefactor from his previous life, had mentioned this smuggling case, and this crate was a key piece of evidence.
Lin Yuan took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the shock inside, burying all his terror beneath the surface.
He maintained his victim pose, speaking in a low voice: “Zhao Tai, I’m an outsider here. I don’t know what’s going on with this box…”
Zhao Tai was losing patience. He narrowed his eyes, seemingly re-evaluating Lin Yuan’s worth.
Suddenly, the henchman who had kicked the crate opened his mouth from behind: “Boss, look at this.”
Zhao Tai walked over, crouching down to pry open the moldy sponge at the bottom of the box. His face changed instantly.
Beneath the sponge, there was a thin metal layer, and inside it, a small, unassuming hidden compartment.
Zhao Tai’s eyes went from angry to manic. He licked his cracked lips, his voice trembling: “Good stuff. Who knew they hid it right here!”
Without hesitation, he drew his dagger and carefully pried open the compartment.
Inside lay a single gold bar, folded neatly, emitting a cold, enticing glow in the dim light.
Zhao Tai let out a suppressed, maniacal laugh. The sound echoed in the empty warehouse, sharp and grating.
“Lin Yuan, you’ve got a long life ahead of you, huh? You even left me a way out!” Zhao Tai looked at Lin Yuan, his eyes full of mockery.
Lin Yuan watched him quietly, but his mind was already racing calculations.
He memorized the location of the compartment, the weight of the gold, and the manic look on Zhao Tai’s face.
Endurance was the only law of survival.
Revealing the truth now would mean death.
Zhao Tai picked up the gold bar, weighed it in his hand, and greedily stuffed it into his shirt.
However, his smile quickly froze.
“Just one?” he frowned, clearly dissatisfied.
The two henchmen gathered around, one grumbling: “Boss, a box this big and that’s all? We came for nothin’.”
The other nodded along: “Yeah. We searched him top to bottom. Nothin’ but this box.”
Zhao Tai’s face darkened. He slammed the gold bar back onto the crate with a sharp *clang*.
“You think it’s not enough? Go find it yourselves! If you can’t find it, you’re all going into the sea with me!”
The tension snapped taut. The two henchmen looked at each other, daring to say no more.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside the warehouse. Steady and strong.
A slender figure appeared at the entrance, wearing a plain gray tunic suit and old-fashioned reading glasses.
It was Old Chen.
A retired museum expert, proud and upright, well-known in the area around the Dock.
He took in the chaos inside, his eyes cold as ice, staring fixedly at the gold bar in Zhao Tai’s hands.
Seeing Old Chen, Zhao Tai froze for a split second, then forced a stiff smile: “Old Chen? What are you doing here?”
Old Chen ignored the greeting, speaking in a flat tone: “Heard some noise, came to check. Didn’t expect to see this.”
His voice was soft, but it carried an invisible weight that made cold sweat break out on Zhao Tai’s back.
Zhao Tai feared Old Chen’s background and suppressed his anger, temporarily sheathing his fangs.
“Old Chen, it’s a misunderstanding. We’re just handling some private property.” Zhao Tai said, wearing a fawning smile.
Old Chen pushed up his glasses, looking over Zhao Tai’s shoulder to settle on Lin Yuan.
“The one tied to the crate is you?”
Lin Yuan didn’t move, just staring at Old Chen, searching for a shred of hope for survival in his eyes.
But Old Chen just gave a cold nod, then turned to leave, dropping a heavy, meaningful line: “The water at the Dock is dirty. Some things are buried too deep. Eventually, they’ll float to the surface.”
Seeing Old Chen leave, the smile vanished from Zhao Tai’s face, his cruel demeanor returning instantly.
He walked back to the crate, his gaze even more vicious.
“Since the cargo isn’t complete, let’s split the box.” Zhao Tai ordered coldly. “Pry it open. See if there’s any more hidden inside.”
He looked at Lin Yuan, his eyes slithering around him like a snake: “You’d better not try any tricks. Or I’ll deal with you along with the crate.”
Lin Yuan held his breath, his heartbeat accelerating. Each throb hammered against his eardrums.
He watched Zhao Tai order someone to bring a crowbar, starting to violently dismantle the bottom of the crate.
With the sound of twisting metal, the inner wall of the box floor was pried open, revealing deep scratches.
Lin Yuan’s pupils shrank. The clear characters came into view.
Two characters: Ping'an (Peace). The handwriting was childish but firm. It was the only memento his deceased mother had left on the bottom of the crate.
On her deathbed, she had entrusted this crate to him, saying it was her talisman for his life.
So, the so-called inheritance was actually his mother’s keepsake. The gold was just an accidental smuggled item.
Zhao Tai saw the engraving, paused for a second, then let out a meaningful, cold laugh.
“Peace? Heh. Praying for peace at the Dock. That’s a joke.”
He raised his head abruptly, killing intent spiking in his eyes. “Since it’s all stolen goods, let’s sink it all in the sea. Clean and tidy!”
Zhao Tai raised his hand, pointing at Lin Yuan. The crisis was about to erupt.