After the Skyfall

“This is probably the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Li Yi was gasping for breath, his heart still pounding wildly. His body felt an indescribable exhaustion, and every muscle ached intensely.

He had run fast.

In just half an hour, Li Yi had made it out of the abandoned district and returned to his home in the old city. For now, he was safe.

Thinking back on everything that had just happened, even he found it hard to believe.

All he had wanted was to make a few tens of thousands of yuan to take care of his parents, who had become dormant. But when the critical moment came, he had ended up gambling his life on the unknown, just like those desperate gamblers.

Luckily, he had made it out alive.

If he had failed, he would probably have regretted it immensely in his final moments.

“That dead man, Zhang Kaiwen, was right about one thing—one lifetime is the same as ten thousand lifetimes. To change this fate, you have to take risks. Otherwise, I’d end up like everyone else in this rundown city, struggling like a rat, only to one day rot away unnoticed, leaving no trace behind.”

“In that underground parking lot, when I made that choice, I could feel the ambition inside me swelling. It turns out I’m not the type to just accept my fate—I want to step into the world of cultivation, to stir up storms, to become someone powerful.”

Li Yi closed his eyes, taking deep, steady breaths.

Looking back on the past years of his life, all he could feel was suffocation and oppression.

Endless labor. Never-ending expenses on nutritional fluids. No matter how hard he worked, his family’s savings had gone from modest to nothing, and then to overwhelming debt. Now, he couldn’t even afford to repair the medical pod that kept his parents alive.

He was only twenty years old. His life had just begun—so why did it already feel like it was over?

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Li Yi opened his eyes again. This time, there was no trace of exhaustion or hesitation—only determination.

“But whether I can change anything depends on my luck this time. Did I manage to grab something valuable?”

He looked down at the bundle of filthy, tattered clothes he had been holding onto the entire way.

These were the garments that the tomb’s owner had worn in life. Their style and fabric were completely different from anything found in modern society—somewhat traditional, yet distinctly different from conventional ancient attire. Even in their current ruined state, the clothing still carried traces of former grandeur.

Li Yi carefully unfolded the garments one by one, searching for anything special.

The reason he had chosen to take these old clothes from the coffin was simple—if there had been anything precious left in that tomb, it would have been kept close to the owner.

The tomb had been looted before, so whether anything remained was uncertain.

“This piece has nothing… neither does this one…”

As Li Yi continued to unfold the garments one by one, he meticulously searched for anything of value.

Finally, when he shook out the last piece of clothing, a crisp clink echoed through the room.

Something had fallen onto the tiled floor of the living room.

Li Yi immediately bent down and picked it up, examining it carefully. After a moment of hesitation, he murmured, “Could this be a mystical artifact? It doesn’t really seem like one… I don’t sense anything unusual about it.”

The object in his hand resembled a small bronze knife, though only half of it remained. Strange, twisted inscriptions covered its surface.

He tested its edge and found that the bronze knife was not sharp at all.

After searching online for information, Li Yi managed to make an educated guess: “This isn’t a knife—it’s a type of currency. During the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, these were called Dao coins.”

Aside from this broken dao coin, he rummaged through the pile of tattered clothes several more times but found nothing else.

This was the only thing he had risked his life to bring back.

“I’m not a cultivator. I have no idea if this broken dao coin is valuable or not. I need to find someone knowledgeable about mystical artifacts. But they have to be trustworthy—there’s too much risk if the wrong person finds out.”

As he pondered, a name immediately surfaced in his mind.

Uncle Biao.

Uncle Biao was a friend of his father’s. Six years ago, he and Li Yi’s father had practiced cultivation together. But while his father had exceptional talent and progressed rapidly, Uncle Biao had lacked the aptitude for cultivation.

In the end, Li Yi’s father suffered an accident and became a Dormant—his life and death uncertain. Meanwhile, Uncle Biao abandoned cultivation altogether and instead opened a meditation studio in Tianchang City, where he taught newcomers.

With that decision made, Li Yi quickly packed up the ragged clothing and carefully stowed away the broken dao coin.

However, he didn’t leave immediately—there was something else he needed to take care of first.

Picking up his phone, he dialed the customer service line for medical pod repairs.

In less than half an hour, a service engineer arrived at his doorstep.

“Mr. Li,” the engineer, Hu Bing, said, “as I mentioned last time, one of the chips in your second medical pod has burned out due to prolonged use. Since the pod’s six-year warranty has expired, the company can provide free repairs, but you’ll need to purchase the replacement part yourself. The cost is 49,999.”

Li Yi responded, “I’ve gathered the money these past few days. I’ll transfer it to you now—you didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

“Good.” Hu Bing nodded in approval.

Li Yi then turned and opened the door to the bedroom.

The bedroom was brightly lit, though the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and disinfectant.

There was no bed in the room. Instead, two medical pods—blinking with various indicator lights—were positioned on the floor. In contrast to the cramped and oppressive housing of the old district, these high-tech medical pods seemed completely out of place.

Inside each pod lay a person.

The man had sharp, handsome features, exuding a natural strength. The woman, delicate and beautiful, had an air of quiet grace. However, years of unconsciousness had drained the color from their faces, leaving them pale and lifeless.

Li Yi’s parents had once been an enviable couple—talented and perfectly matched. But now, they lay there like lifeless husks, no different from coma patients.

And this had been the reality for six long years.

“…Dad, Mom.”

Even though he knew there would be no response, Li Yi still called out instinctively.

The engineer, Hu Bing, expertly pried open a panel on one of the medical pods and began working on the repairs.

As the damaged component was replaced, Li Yi’s mother’s medical pod soon resumed normal operation, its lights stabilizing.

Seeing everything return to normal, Li Yi finally let out a breath of relief.

Hu Bing straightened up and said, “Mr. Li, the nutrient solution in both pods will run out in a day. Make sure to restock in time. If you can, I suggest buying extra while you still can. The number of cultivators is increasing lately, and demand for nutrient solutions is rising. Prices have already gone up, and I expect they’ll increase again soon.”

“…Prices have gone up?” Li Yi frowned. “How much are they now?”

“The most basic nutrient solution is up to 1,000 per unit,” Hu Bing replied.

“They’ve increased that much… I see. Thanks for letting me know.” Li Yi fell silent.

“No problem.” After completing the maintenance service, Engineer Hu Bing left.

“I worked so hard to earn 50,000, and it’s gone in the blink of an eye. Looks like I can’t stop now. But this situation has made me realize that simply working diligently to make money won’t change anything. The only way out is to live differently.”

Li Yi thought to himself as he touched the half-broken dao coin in his pocket.

His parents had spent nearly all their savings to buy these two medical pods before they went into deep sleep. While they didn’t require frequent maintenance, ensuring the survival of the sleepers meant regularly refilling them with nutrient solution—without it, their bodies would starve to death.

Each medical pod consumed at least three units of nutrient solution per month.

Since Li Yi had two medical pods to maintain, he needed six units monthly.

That meant he had to earn at least 4,800 a month just to keep his parents alive.

Now that the price had gone up, he would need to make at least 6,000 a month.

At first, he had some savings. But after six years, it had all been drained. The car was sold, the house was gone—fortunately, after his grandparents passed away, they still had the old family home in the city. Otherwise, he would have had to pay rent too.

“Dad, Mom, I have things to take care of today, so I can’t stay with you. But don’t worry—I won’t give up on you. I will take care of you, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Just wait for me to come back.”

Li Yi knew he couldn’t waste any more time.

The people from Crow could come looking for him at any moment.

Before that happened, he had to figure out the true value of what he had.

Without hesitation, Li Yi grabbed a backpack, stuffed it with the tattered clothes from the ancient tomb, then slung it over his shoulder. Taking the half-broken dao coin with him, he stepped out the door.

Looking at the dwindling balance on his phone, he decided to be extravagant just this once—he hailed a cab and headed straight for Uncle Biao’s Meditation Room.