My Longevity Simulation

On the day his lungs finally give out, Li Fan tastes blood, dust, and failure.

He crossed into this cultivation world with a heart full of wild plans, only to rot away as a nameless clerk in a minor city, watching other people chase legends he could barely glimpse. Above him hangs a sky he cannot touch; below him, a continent scarred by an immortal plague. When an undying brushes against an infected mortal, their hard‑won power rots, their realm collapses, and sometimes their soul is dragged back to the distant heavens. Immortals hide like hunters in a midnight forest, each secret art allowed only a single inheritor, every new technique another loaded bow in the dark.

At his last breath, something stirs—a strange treasure buried in his soul, cool and absolute as still water. It can turn fact into illusion, illusion into fact, and rewind his existence to the moment he first arrived.

The second life, he chooses power he understands: the court, the throne, a world unified under his seal. Fifty years of strategy, of late‑night maps and blood‑stained memorials, and still not a single genuine Immortal Dao technique in his grasp—only, in the dimming light of old age, a fleeting hint that the path was always there, just out of reach.

The third life, he dives headlong into the shadows of true cultivation, plotting, bartering, preparing against a single strike. When it finally falls from an unseen immortal’s sword, all his careful lines of defense shatter like clay.

Then comes the fourth. And the fifth. And the thousandth yet to be walked.

Li Fan remains what he has always been: a mortal with soft hands, a stubborn spine, and a treasure that lets him start over but never look away from the cost. In a world where one wrong touch can erase centuries of cultivation and every art is hoarded like a loaded spear, he chooses to spend lifetime after lifetime, burning his small human days as fuel for a chance at a life that never ends.