A World That Demands More

The night settled in gently, the cool breeze of dawn brushing against the walls of the fragile bamboo house. Within it, on a woven mat thinned by time, Hin Yu lay staring at the ceiling. His body was still, but his thoughts wandered endlessly.

It had been a long day—physically, mentally, and emotionally. He had survived the forest, fed his aching body, and fulfilled the last wish of the body's original owner. But the hardest part still lay ahead.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, "I begin for real."

Not some heroic journey to save kingdoms or fight legendary monsters—not yet. No. For now, his journey was survival, simplicity, and anonymity. Tomorrow was the first step in becoming self-sufficient in this world. He needed to make a living. He needed money. He needed information. And above all else… he needed strength—not just to climb higher, but to make sure he was never crushed again by anyone, or anything.

Hin Yu closed his eyes slowly, not in comfort, but in quiet surrender. It wasn't peace he sought. It was purpose.

But sleep didn't come easily. Even after closing his eyes, the scenes of his past lives danced behind his lids—visions of betrayal, loss, glory, and pain. Until the pounding of hooves and wooden wheels on the road jolted him back.

Thump-thump-thump!

The noise grew louder as horses trotted down the village path, followed by the murmurs of merchants and villagers preparing for another day. Hin Yu sat up and blinked against the light of the early sun peeking through the slits in his bamboo walls.

"Already morning…"

He stood up, his joints creaking slightly. His body was still growing, still recovering. The scent of dirt and dried bamboo filled the air, mixed with the distant smell of baked bread and simmering porridge from neighboring homes.

He changed into his simple gray robe, the same one that earned him sneers and laughs from villagers. He didn't care anymore. In a world where power decided your worth, fashion didn't matter. He wasn't here to impress.

He stepped out into the bustling street of Tengwu Village, a mid-sized settlement surrounded by lush forests and rivers, built on trade routes and merchant traffic. Though not grand in size, it was rich in activity.

At first glance, it looked like any other simple village—mud roads, wooden signs, and smoke rising from chimneys. But anyone who lived here knew better. Hidden beneath the dust and wood were roots of power.

This village wasn't just a backwater place for poor farmers. No, Tengwu was a minor but crucial hub. It was home to not one, but six branch pavilions, small extensions of great sects and factions across the continent. They were the:

Martial Arts Pavilion

Medicine Pavilion

Forge Pavilion

Thieves' Pavilion

Alchemist's Hall

Beast Tamer's Den

Each of them held influence far beyond the village. Though these were just minor branches, they carried the names and teachings of major powers. Entering one of them—even at the bottom—meant stepping into a greater world of cultivation and strength.

For most youths, entering one of these pavilions was the dream of a lifetime. Families trained their children for years to qualify. Boys and girls lined up for tests and trials, hoping to be accepted.

But not Hin Yu.

Not now.

He knew better. Joining such places meant being under watchful eyes, playing political games, and following orders from people who viewed you as disposable. He needed to grow in the shadows. Quietly. Patiently.

He turned away from the six grand buildings and looked at the true heart of the village—the marketplace.

Rows upon rows of shops filled the main road and its side streets. Cobblers, herbalists, blacksmiths, farmers, tailors, potters, bakers, and fishmongers. Over a hundred businesses ran daily, their owners waking before dawn and working past sunset.

These were the people who made the village thrive. Not the proud disciples in their shiny uniforms, but the workers with dirty hands and worn-out sandals.

This was where Hin Yu would begin.

He approached the nearest shop—a simple herbal stand where bundles of dried roots and glowing leaves were tied with string. An old man sat behind the counter, chewing on a wooden pipe.

"Morning, sir," Hin Yu said politely. "Are you in need of any help today?"

The man glanced up. His eyes squinted at the boy's thin figure, and his lips curled with clear disgust.

"Help? Tch. You look like you'd break lifting a leaf. Be gone."

Hin Yu nodded silently and turned away. He expected that.

He walked further down the road to a potter's stall. A middle-aged woman stood beside rows of clay jars.

"Excuse me," Hin Yu began, "do you need an assistant?"

The woman didn't even respond. She just looked at his tattered clothes, then turned her back and walked inside.

One after another, doors were closed. Words were spat. Laughter echoed behind him.

"You again?"

"Trying to steal again, are you?"

"I've heard about him… no parents, no name, no worth."

Each rejection pierced him, not because of pride, but because of the sheer familiarity. This world reminded him too much of the other. He had clawed his way up once, only to be betrayed and cast down.

Still, he didn't let the bitterness show.

He continued.

He tried at the fishmonger's, where they needed someone to carry baskets. The owner laughed and said, "Come back when you've grown arms thicker than reeds."

He went to the bakery, where a large woman asked if he could lift flour sacks and knead dough. When he answered yes, she smiled, but then added, "No pay until next week. Consider it training."

"I can't do that," Hin Yu said firmly.

"Then get out."

He went to the blacksmith's shop, where the air was thick with smoke and heat. The man didn't even look at him before barking, "We don't take beggars."

By the time the sun had risen high above, sweat coated Hin Yu's body. Dust clung to his robe, and his throat was dry.

Twenty shops. Twenty refusals.

He stood at the edge of the road and looked out over the bustling market. Children ran past him, chasing a wooden ball. A merchant waved at a passing customer. The world kept spinning, and no one noticed him.

He was invisible.

And yet, he refused to disappear.

He walked toward a small bridge at the edge of the village and sat on the railing, letting his feet dangle over the dry creek below.

He stared at his hands—thin, blistered, but not broken.

"This world doesn't care about effort," he muttered. "It respects only power. And I have none."

But he wasn't angry. Not really.

No, what he felt was something else—resolve.

He had nothing. No family. No allies. No special bloodline or divine artifact. But he had one thing that all the others lacked—he had lived through hell before.

He had been betrayed by those closest to him. He had seen the rise and fall of empires. He had died once already.

Hin Yu didn't need the approval of these people.

He needed time.

Time to grow. Time to adapt. Time to climb again.

If no one wanted to hire him… then he'd make his own path.

He would scavenge. He would hunt. He would trade with those who didn't care about looks or status. And once he had enough, he would begin to train. Secretly. Ruthlessly.

Because one day, when they looked at him again… they wouldn't see a poor orphan.

They would see the shadow of a god returned.