《Divine Usurper: Reborn from the Ashes》

Qin Mufeng struggled to pry his eyes open, the harsh, blinding sunlight stabbing into them with a raw, searing pain. Having just awakened, his mind felt like a vast, empty void, devoid of thought or memory. When he forced his eyes open a second time, he was struck dumb by the sunlight that once again assaulted his vision, piercing through his senses like a relentless intruder. Where am I? Didn’t I die already? A shiver of fear rippled through Qin Mufeng as he lowered his gaze to examine himself. What he saw jolted him with disbelief so profound it bordered on terror. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it—how could this small, frail body, draped in strange, unfamiliar robes, possibly belong to him? Stunned beyond words, Qin Mufeng cast his eyes outward, taking in his surroundings. Everything before him was alien, foreign in a way that defied explanation. There were odd tables, peculiar stools, and strange… everything. Every object in sight carried an air of bizarre unfamiliarity. What is this place? How did I end up here? Qin Mufeng’s thoughts churned as he absorbed the strangeness around him. He wanted to climb out of bed, to explore and make sense of it all, but his body betrayed him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move. Even shifting his arm a fraction sent waves of weakness crashing through him, leaving him breathless and drained. After several failed attempts to sit up, Qin Mufeng surrendered to his exhaustion. Collapsing back onto the large, unfamiliar bed, he lay there, helpless, as the final moments before his supposed destruction flooded back into his mind. They played out like scenes from a vivid, relentless film, each frame etched with unbearable clarity. Qin Mufeng had been an orphan—a child abandoned from birth, never knowing the faces or names of his parents. Raised in the cold confines of an orphanage, he grew up sharp-witted and keenly sensitive, traits that set him apart from the others. It was this very cleverness that propelled him forward, allowing him to rise above the countless other orphans. Not only did he secure a place at a university, but he earned entry into one of the nation’s most prestigious institutions. It was as though fate had decided to balance the scales for his lonely, hardship-filled childhood. Once he stepped into university, his luck seemed to burst forth like a dam breaking. Though naturally solitary and reserved, he gradually shed his guarded nature, opening his heart to the world around him. And in that world, he discovered something precious—a love he treasured beyond measure. Her name was Xue’er, a name that danced with poetic elegance, belonging to a woman whose gentleness enveloped him like a warm embrace. Their journey—from their first encounter to their deepening bond and eventual romance—felt to Qin Mufeng like a joyful poem, each stanza brimming with sweetness and light. With Xue’er by his side, he traversed the wild, passion-filled years of university life, her presence a steady anchor amid the storm. But happiness, as it so often does, slipped through his fingers far too quickly. Before he could fully grasp it, Qin Mufeng and Xue’er found themselves on the cusp of graduation, staring down the harsh realities of finding work and building a future. For Qin Mufeng, there was no safety net, no family to lean on—he had only himself. Xue’er, too, came from humble roots. Her family, ordinary and unremarkable, had stretched their meager resources to the breaking point just to send her to university. Beyond that, they had nothing more to give. With no one to turn to, the two of them had only each other to rely on. Yet it was this very turning point—graduation—that mercilessly shattered every ounce of happiness Qin Mufeng had clung to. The memory of that day clawed at him now, and he bit down hard on his lip, a thin trickle of blood seeping onto his teeth as the pain of it surged back. That day—the day he felt his soul die—had begun with a spark of triumph. Through sheer determination and relentless effort, Qin Mufeng had landed a promising job at a sizable company. The ink on the contract was barely dry when excitement overtook him. He couldn’t think of anything else—he needed to find Xue’er, to share this victory with her and see the joy light up her face. The mere thought of Xue’er sent a rush of warmth through his chest. He knew she’d been weighed down by worry lately, her search for work wearing her thin. With every failed interview, her spirit dimmed, her once-bright eyes clouded with frustration. Even their dates had grown quiet, her mind elsewhere, lost in her anxieties. But when he dialed her number, eager to spill the good news, her phone was off. Undeterred, Qin Mufeng raced back to campus, desperate to find her, only to discover she wasn’t there. She’s probably out looking for a job, he told himself, clinging to the thought as a lifeline. So absorbed was he in this hopeful notion that he failed to notice the odd, fleeting glance cast his way by Xue’er’s dormmate. Determined to catch her the moment she returned, Qin Mufeng planted himself at the school’s main gate, waiting with a restless, yearning heart for the woman he loved. Time dragged on, each minute stretching into eternity as he stood there. Yet, even as the sun sank slowly behind the western mountains, casting long shadows over the campus, Xue’er did not appear. Still, Qin Mufeng refused to give up. Again and again, he called her phone, only to be met with the cold, mechanical reply that it was switched off. Like a sentinel, he remained rooted at the gate, his anxiety mounting with every passing second. The city’s neon lights flared to life, banishing the darkness and bathing the night in a glow as bright as day. Right on cue, a sugarcane vendor rolled his cart to the gate, setting up shop beside Qin Mufeng, whose stomach growled with hunger. He watched as couples strolled past under the dazzling lights, arms entwined, their laughter and closeness a stark contrast to his growing unease. Yet, amid his impatience, he pictured Xue’er’s return—imagined the two of them embracing like those happy pairs—and a flicker of sweetness briefly soothed his restless heart. There she is. Though she was still a distant figure, Qin Mufeng recognized her instantly by the familiar curve of her silhouette. After nearly ten grueling hours of waiting, exhilaration surged through him, propelling him forward. But as he took a step to meet her, the sight that greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks. His breath caught, and his mind reeled—he couldn’t believe it, refused to believe what his eyes were showing him. Xue’er—his Xue’er—was cradled in the arms of another man. The stranger’s face was smug, dripping with a sickening satisfaction that turned Qin Mufeng’s stomach. In an instant, his heart plummeted into a hollow abyss. Rage, disbelief, and a bitter unwillingness to accept the truth crashed over him like a tidal wave, pinning him to the spot. Xue’er, engrossed in soft, intimate murmurs with the man, seemed to sense something. She lifted her head, and her gaze locked onto Qin Mufeng’s solitary figure, illuminated by the garish city lights, radiating an infinite loneliness. A fleeting look of surprise crossed her face, but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a calm, detached composure. The man holding her followed her gaze, his eyes landing on Qin Mufeng. A taunting smirk curled his lips as he took in the sight of the man standing before him. With a deliberate, possessive squeeze of Xue’er’s slender waist, the fat man ignored her subtle squirm and swaggered toward Qin Mufeng, his expression oozing mockery. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Qin orphan,” he jeered, his voice booming with a cruel laugh. “What’s this? Waiting for my Xue’er? Let me set you straight—she belongs to me now. So why don’t you crawl back to whatever hole you came from?” Qin Mufeng knew this man all too well. His name was Jiang He, a classmate of theirs. Jiang He was a nobody in his own right—crude and unimpressive—but he had a powerful father, a municipal party secretary in a wealthy coastal city. Since their first year at university, Jiang He had wielded his father’s influence like a club, preying on countless girls with impunity. Given Xue’er’s striking beauty, it was no shock that he’d targeted her. Yet back then, she had chosen Qin Mufeng over him—or so he’d thought. “Xue’er, why are you with him? Haven’t you always hated him?” Qin Mufeng’s voice trembled as he forced the words out, his mind still grappling with the betrayal unfolding before him. Xue’er’s eyes met his, and for a moment, guilt shadowed her features as she took in his anguished expression. But it was only guilt—nothing deeper, nothing that hinted at regret. As the old saying went, when a woman turns ruthless, she can outstrip even the cruelest man. Having made her choice, Xue’er had long discarded the vows they’d once shared. “Mufeng, there’s nothing more to say. I’m sorry—I’ve let you down,” she said, her voice as soft and gentle as ever, but her face hardened with an unyielding resolve. “Why? What’s the reason? Did I do something wrong? If I did, just tell me—I’ll fix it!” His heart had already iced over, but desperation clawed at him, unwilling to let go. His plea carried a faint, pitiful edge. “Qin orphan, quit fooling yourself,” Jiang He interjected, his tone thick with scorn. “What kind of life could Xue’er have with you? You can’t even get her a decent job. But with me, it’s a different story. My dad’s already pulled strings—after graduation, she’ll work at the city government. My Xue’er will be a proud civil servant. Hahaha! You miserable toad—get this through your head: swans don’t belong with the likes of you.” As he spoke, he pressed his bloated, piggish face against Xue’er’s delicate cheek, rubbing it with a grotesque familiarity. The sight was a dagger to Qin Mufeng’s soul, as though a thousand blades had pierced him at once. He could never have imagined that the woman he’d loved for years—the one he’d dreamed of building a life with—could be capable of this. “Is what he said true?” Though the answer was already painfully clear, Qin Mufeng needed to hear it from her own lips. Only then could his broken heart sink fully into despair. Xue’er knew him well—knew the stubborn streak that defined him. Seeing the torment etched across his face, a pang of sorrow flickered within her, but she’d steeled herself for this moment long ago. Hardening her resolve, she replied, “Yes, it’s true. He’s right. You can’t give me a stable future, so I chose to leave. You know how brutal the job market is—I had no other option.” Her words landed like a final blow, splintering what remained of Qin Mufeng’s already fractured heart into dust. Yet his pride—unyielding even now—rose to the surface. He fixed her with one last icy stare before saying, “If that’s how it is, then I wish you happiness.” With that, he turned to walk away. “Hold on, Qin orphan—I’ve got something to say,” Jiang He called after him, his voice dripping with malicious glee as he sidled up beside Qin Mufeng. Leaning in with a lewd grin, he whispered, “Four years with Xue’er, huh? What’d you manage—just a few kisses? Hahaha! You’ll never guess—she was still a virgin. Oh, I had a real good time with her. Tell me, Qin orphan, are you just useless down there? Is that why your parents dumped you—because your ‘little man’ couldn’t cut it?” As an orphan, nothing ignited Qin Mufeng’s rage more than jabs at his abandonment. His heart, already a cauldron of hatred, boiled over at Jiang He’s taunts. The fury he’d been choking down erupted like a volcano, surging beyond control. Reason dissolved in the inferno of his anger. Staring at that repulsive, bloated face—picturing that grotesque, flabby body sprawled over Xue’er—his vision blurred red with bloodlust. Kill him. Smash that vile face to pieces. Consumed by wrath, Qin Mufeng whirled around, his hand darting to the sugarcane stall behind him. He seized a half-foot-long fruit knife, its blade glinting coldly in the light. With a single, ferocious thrust, he drove it deep into Jiang He’s fat neck. A flash of steel sliced through the air, followed by a torrent of blood. Jiang He’s leering, smug expression twisted into one of utter disbelief, frozen in his final moment. That one strike snuffed out his life.