Star Eyes Beyond the Shores of Time - Chapter 1

The sun rose in the east and sank in the west, as it always did.
The moon hid through the day and emerged by night.
And the vast universe felt unbearably empty, unbearably dull.

That day, the sky was murky—an omen of Heaven’s Dog devouring the sun.

“Yuyang, do you remember how you were born?”
The voice belonged to a man in his fifties.

His face was weathered with age, yet his back remained straight as an iron rod. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he exuded an effortless air of dignity.

He was Zhan Chongyang, the biological father of Guan Nuoyin.

Guan Nuoyin muttered inwardly, Who remembers the moment they were born—or when they die, for that matter?

“Old man, I’m not Zhan Yuyang. I hate your surname, and I hate that name even more. Besides, you never remember anything about me anyway!” Guan Nuoyin snapped.

The car swerved sharply. Zhan Chongyang sighed.
“Ah, seems human Alzheimer’s has finally caught up to a being like me… I feared I’d forget, so I gave you the same name as mine. You’re my dearest son.”

“Stop pretending, old man! After all this time, you still won’t tell me why I age so slowly? Did you curse me? Normal people in their fifties are already wrinkled, but I’m nearly a hundred and fifty—and still look like a teenager!”

“Quite the opposite,” Zhan Chongyang said softly. “It’s not a curse—it’s a blessing. I wished only that you’d live forever.”

“Everyone dies, old man. Even you,” Guan Nuoyin retorted, his voice sharp.

“Then why not test it? See if you can die,” came the shocking reply.

“And what if I do die?”

“I, your father, swear on my three hundred and eight years of life—I’ll trade my life to protect yours.”

“You’ve lived that long already? Tired of it, huh?”

“Yes,” the old man murmured. “I miss your mother. Wherever she is—that’s home. I suppose… I’m homesick.”

“My birthday is her death day. And let’s be honest—I’ve lost count of how many wives, concubines, and descendants you have. Sons, grandsons, great-grandsons, great-great-grandsons… You’ve made a family tree into a forest.”

Longevity, it seemed, was more burden than blessing.

“Enough, Yuyang,” Zhan Chongyang said with a sigh. “You’ve memorized that speech already. Now—it’s time to find the Heaven’s Chosen One who will help you transcend your tribulation.”

“How am I supposed to find that?”

“By reading the stars. When the Heaven’s Dog devours the sun—wherever disaster strikes, you go. Save others, and you save yourself.”

Before Guan Nuoyin could respond, thick smoke rose from the distant villa district, curling into the moonless sky like a beast opening its bloody maw.

“…A disaster—has come.”

Flames surged, crackling and hissing, spreading fast.

The power went out across the district.
Darkness swallowed everything.

Yet Guan Nuoyin moved through the fire as though it weren’t there, plunging straight into the inferno. Smoke stung his eyes, disorienting him.

After a desperate search, he dragged a woman and a young boy from the flames and handed them to Zhan Chongyang, who was waiting outside.

He thought it was over—

Until the woman gasped weakly, “My daughter… my daughter’s still inside… please… save her…”

Before her words had even faded, Guan Nuoyin rushed back into the blaze.

By the dim light of the moon, he spotted a little girl crouched beneath a collapsed beam. Her face was blackened with soot, her clothes scorched to tatters. One hand held a damp cloth to her mouth; the other clutched a small pink box.

She trembled uncontrollably.

The wind howled through the broken balcony doors, feeding the flames.

Guan Nuoyin scooped her into his arms. Her tiny face scrunched in pain, and between ragged breaths she whispered,
“Big brother… the bad woman set the fire… she burned us… there’s evidence in the box… it’s my and Dad’s secret base…”

The girl pointed shakily toward a section of the wall.

Following her cue, Guan Nuoyin found a small cavity between bricks. Standing on tiptoe, he hid the box inside. The mechanism was subtle—one twist, and the wall looked untouched.

She was meticulous, this girl. He could tell.

But she didn’t know—her secret would sleep for ten years.

Then, without warning—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three bullets tore through Guan Nuoyin’s chest, straight into his heart.

Bl00d gushed, splattering across the girl’s face.

As his vision blurred, he turned toward the shooter—

Smoke still curled from the gun’s barrel.

And the man holding it was—

His father.

Zhan Chongyang.

Guan Nuoyin dropped to one knee, gasping for air.

Immortality, he realized, did not mean invulnerability.
To live forever did not mean to live without pain.

Agony tore through him as the fire raged higher. The air reeked of accelerants—this blaze was no accident.

There was no time.

Clenching his teeth, Guan Nuoyin leapt from the second floor with the girl in his arms.

The impact jarred his bones. His bl00d sprayed across her face like crimson rain.
The girl’s eyes went wide with horror—
Then she fainted.

Moments later, through the firelight, a wooden ladder appeared by the balcony. Several figures rushed inside.

Guan Nuoyin recognized the leader—

“Axin… did you do what I told you?” he rasped.

It was Situ Xin, his personal aide.

“Yes, Young Master. Everything’s arranged as you ordered. Don’t worry.”

The moon broke through the clouds, casting a cold, silvery glow over the burning ruins.

Situ Xin suddenly froze. “You’re bleeding so much! Who did this?”

Guan Nuoyin gritted his teeth. “My damn… old man.”

“Your face—it’s burned!”

“Scarred?”

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Perhaps the old man’s gunfire had been a test of his words.
Guan Nuoyin’s body refused to die—but his spirit was shattered.

He remembered his father’s warning:

“As long as your body isn’t torn apart, decayed, or destroyed beyond repair—you won’t die.”

Pain wracked his body like fire within fire. Immortal or not, the torment was real.

But his will was stronger.

He pulled a knife from his boot and, without hesitation, dug out the bullets one by one from his own flesh.
Situ Xin turned pale, her scalp prickling at the sight of his grim determination.

It was inhuman. Terrifying.

When she suggested returning to his father for treatment, he refused flatly.

He was furious—truly furious.
He rarely lost his temper, but when he did, it meant someone had gone too far.

To be shot through the heart just to prove he couldn’t die—
That was too far.

His anger smoldered for ten years.
Father and son would never meet again.

Meanwhile, the arsonists didn’t escape justice.

Following Guan Nuoyin’s orders, Situ Xin photographed the crime scene, placed three charred corpses inside to confuse investigators, and collected every usable fingerprint.

It wasn’t the work of one person—it was a conspiracy.
The guilty were marked, and the net of fate was tightening.

They wouldn’t stay free for long.

Let the bullets fly—
The farther they go, the deeper they pierce.