Chapter Text
Chilly winds start blowing. The weather is cold, and the temperature has dropped significantly. Low dog howls can be heard from afar.
“Aah!" A child winces and shivers from the cold, barely covered by torn clothes. The wind wakes him from a deep slumber.
Opening his eyes wide, bewildered by his state, he begins examining his surroundings.
Thin snow lines the alley; junk is scattered not far away. Rags of cotton, on which his head had rested moments ago, lie nearby. Bloodstains mark the snow beneath his tiny feet. He is perplexed. He groans and begins examining his hands, his feet, his tiny palms, his face, and his dishevelled hair.
“What’s this? Why am I still alive? How long has it been since I chose to end my wretched life!?” He wonders, unable to come to terms with the shock of finding himself young again, despite having ended it all, wanting nothing more.
He starts wailing; utterly broken cries leave his throat. He hugs his small legs to his chest and weeps.
“Why!! Why, why, what kind of sick game is this?!” he screams. He cries for nearly hours, until he has no energy left.
He tries to recall what led to this—how he has returned to his body—but his mind is blank, refusing to cooperate. He wonders if he's dreaming now, or if everything that happened before was a dream. With no conclusions, he passes out.
After a few hours, he starts waking up in intervals. His foot aches, he feels the cold wind on his body, he hears crickets, and slowly his senses return. After a few minutes, he sits up and flinches in pain. He looks at his foot; a deep wound from a nail greets him. He wonders what cruel game fate is playing. He remains unbothered by the wound, instead banging his head in frustration, trying to remember.
All he recalls is calling death upon himself, nothing before, nothing after.
Taking a few deep breaths, he desperately tries to remember—who, why, and what brought him back. He examines his body again, trying to determine his age. Seeing his tiny arms and tattered clothes, he feels he is hardly six years old.
He wonders if it’s wise to seek memories of the past. Though he cannot remember fully, he senses it was terrible. He closes his eyes and concentrates on his breathing.
Suddenly, memories flood in: the Lotus Pier, Jiang Fengmian, his Shijie, Jiang Cheng, Madam Yu, his punishments, the burning of Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng blaming him, strangling him, fleeing, the core transfer, Burial Mounds, the Sunshot Campaign, Qiongqi Path, the Wen remnants, Qing Jie, Wen Ning, A-Yuan, deaths, his own death.
But…
it doesn't stop there.
He sees the schemes of Jin Guangshan, the wicked games of Jin Guangyao, his plans to kill the Nie Sect leader, his desperate attempts to climb the ladder.
He opens his eyes, tears falling uncontrollably. How does he remember the aftermath of his death? Shocked by the truth, he screams, cries, and howls at the bitterness of his fate. He cries himself to sleep for two days, unable to come to terms with reality.
Hunger wakes him, but he is in no mind to seek food. He needs to sort this mess out first.
He leans against the wall, trying to assess what went wrong in his life. He starts from the beginning.
“Lotus Pier,” he thinks, recalling everything from the moment Jiang Shushu found him and took him in until the very end of his life.
“Shushu! Shushu!!!” he calls out, a bitter laugh escaping.
“Is that what I called you? A man who couldn’t stand up for a mere child being whipped by his own wife out of jealousy. A person who couldn’t defend his friends, couldn’t stop his wife from berating his dead friend’s character. A person who failed to defend his own house, who showed no strength.” Remembering his final words leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
“You knew my parents; you knew their strength; you knew their child would be strong. Isn’t that why you took me in? Even Wen Zhuliu was treated better by the Wens than I ever was.” He laughs at himself.
“Shijie,” a sad smile lingers on his face, the only person in Lotus Pier who didn’t treat him horribly. He remembers how she made soup for him, how she subtly blamed his mischief for her mother’s wrath, how she ignored all of her brother’s insults and blames towards Wuxian.
“Sorry, Shijie, soup isn’t the solution to everything,” he mutters. He reflects on how, despite knowing Wei Ying was being accused and hunted by the Jins, she was ready to marry into that same family, and he wasn’t even invited. He wonders how someone with her cultivation level could run unarmed into the middle of a battlefield. He still cries when he thinks of the place she held in his heart.
“A-Cheng, A-Cheng, what didn’t I do for you? I was whipped for you, punished for you, and gave you my cultivation, and in return, you led armies to kill me, killed the innocents I sheltered, not even leaving a child, you started torturing and killing anyone who even slightly practiced demonic cultivation. Your jealousy was your own problem. How I wish you could look past the web your mother wove.”
He shudders thinking about Madam Yu. Fear and disgust coursed through him at the thought of her. He cries, remembering her punishments and harsh words.
“‘Son of a servant,’ you called me. Was I not the son of a servant when I defeated your sect heir in every duel? Wasn’t the core that made Jiang Cheng the Sect Leader the same one that powered the servant's son you hated? Wasn’t it the servant's son who kept your sect running smoothly? Why was I never addressed as the head disciple?”
He remembers her forbidding him from paying respects to his parents, her harsh accusations and curses aimed at them. He buries his face in his knees, weeping.
“Sorry, Mama. Sorry, Baba. I never stood up for you. I never showed filial piety. What kind of son am I, to forget my own parents?”
A child, desperate to survive amidst adversity, is taken in by a sect leader only to have his hopes of a loving home shattered, shackled by the debt of food and clothing.
For a sect like Lotus Pier, which prided itself as one of the Five Great Sects, was it so difficult to raise a child and give him the lessons the disciples received, without constantly reminding him of the debt he owed? How could a child, treated so harshly and condemned for every action, be so selfless and giving?
“I gave everything to your sect, but not again. I’ll never get caught in your mess this time. Let’s see how far Yunmeng Jiang goes without the one you claimed brought shame.”
He reflects on the hypocrisy of the cultivation sects, filled with filth and ugly rats behind their masks of righteousness.
“I’ve had enough of all your hypocrisy. I’ll strip you of your titles; I’ll knock you off your thrones. I won’t hold myself back in this lifetime for anyone. I’ll give up all pretence. I’ll live for myself. I’ll make you all pay for your sins,” he vows, with newfound grit and determination.
He starts naming names:
“Wen Ruohan.”
“Wen Chao.”
“Wen Zhuliu.”
“Wang of a whore.”
“Jin Guangshan.”
“Jin Guangyao.”
“Madam Yu.”
He lists the names of those he has to save:
“Wen Ning.”
“Wen Qing.”
“A-Yuan.”
“Wen remnants.”
“Shij,” he pauses.
“No, this time I’m not interfering. Let the Jiangs save themselves,” he decides.
“There will be a lot of destruction if war breaks out. Many innocent lives will hang on the whims of the sects. These sects, full of snakes and vipers, care for nothing but themselves. If I’ve been sent back, I must try my best to bring peace and righteousness. If I have to take the reins myself, then so be it. I’ll strive this time to punish the guilty.”
“What a fool I was to think those bastards would leave me alone with the Wen remnants if I stayed away from the cultivation world. They were after power, regardless of its form, style, or state. The same ones who despised me for using resentment, forgetting the victory I gave them all. Hypocrisy is their way, isn’t it?”
“Sinful plots, word games, manipulation, and petty politics—that’s what killed me. My own idiocy killed me. My kindness and naivety, my failure to understand the depth of ugliness in their sects. This time I won’t make the same mistakes. The Jiangs trapped me in guilt, guilt that consumed me piece by piece until there was nothing left. Loyalty, they said—brotherhood and loyalty—yet only I gave it, in return for harsh words and beatings.”
“This time I’ll make good on my mistakes. If they don’t, I’ll strive to make this world a better place. I’ll give myself a chance to live—live well, live life to the fullest,” he vows.
“I’ll make myself so strong that no one will even think of crossing me this time. It’s time to rise.”
"I shall have to make myself so strong that those charlatans will have to bow down to me. The road ahead isn't easy, and I am not someone who is satisfied with easy things. I shall give my everything this time, even if I live for a month, a year, or until the end."
With a determined mind, he begins planning his future path to reach the peak of the cultivation world. He vows not to turn into another Meng Yao, pledging to stand for justice, protect the weak, and punish the wicked.
He tries to remember his mother’s last words before she locked him up in an inn. He searches for any memories of his mother or father.
This time, he does recall a few things: his mother’s grey orbs, her dark tresses, her beautiful smile, her kind words about justice and peace, and their donkey. He also remembers his father’s tall height and kind face. He recalls his mother and father discussing meeting Baoshan Sanren, as well as her final words to seek out Baoshan if they didn’t return.
He wonders why he didn’t remember this in his last life but recalls how he had been waiting for his parents to return.
The small child didn’t want to go to the Celestial Mountains; he had hopes of meeting his parents again. He feared they wouldn’t find him if he left. This same hope and fear kept him waiting on the streets for their return. But as he grew up in the harsh realities of street life, he forgot most of what he knew about them.
Even now, his memories of them are incomplete. Still, what motivates him now is the path to the Celestial Mountains.
He decides to begin his journey to the Celestial Mountains, but before that, his stomach growls.
He rises with newfound determination and wonders how he can get some food. He starts limping towards the market stalls.
He finds an old lady selling steamed buns and walks up to her, giving her a kind smile as he hands over the last of the few coins he has. The old lady has gentle eyes, wrinkled skin, and a stout figure.
She looks at the child with kindness. He wonders if he ever knew her in his previous life.
"Are you new here?" she asks.
"My parents left me at the inn, but they kicked me out," he replies.
"Where are your parents? Have they not returned?" she questions.
With tears in his eyes, he answers, "Mama and Baba won’t return. They’ve died."
Something in him stirs pity within her. She gives him a bun and returns his coin.
"Keep these coins, child. You'll need them to survive. I can spare a few buns. Here, take them."
He hesitates.
"Don't worry, child. I have a farm and a few chickens and pigs. My husband looks after them. I can bear the loss of a few buns if it can help a sweet child like you."
Once again, tears fill his eyes. He takes the buns from her and eats them. After his hunger is satisfied, he speaks to her.
"Popo, what do you grow?"
She looks at him. "Turnips, radishes, and cabbage," she replies.
He nods his head in understanding, thanks her, and leaves. After walking some distance, he decides to buy some talisman paper and cinnabar with the last of his coins. He walks for a while and finds a shop. He enters, purchasing a few pieces of paper and some ink. Though the quality is substandard, it will do for now. He finds an alleyway and heads in that direction. He starts crafting a few talismans for his daily survival on the streets. He cannot waste the precious paper to scribble out his ideas, so instead, he takes a small twig and begins scribbling on the fallen snow. He works on a talisman that will deter dogs from approaching him by emitting the scent of a predator, keeping them at bay.
He also works on a small talisman that will enrich soil with nutrients and keep pests away. With that, he sets off to find the kind Popo who gave him the buns. After some time, he finds her packing up her leftover buns to return home. He runs towards her.
"Popo, Popo, here’s my gift to you for your kindness." His tiny hands stretch out towards her with two talismans.
Startled, she looks at the small papers in his hands and asks, "What are these?"
"Ah! This one here keeps small predators away from your chicken and pig coops. Paste it on the walls of the coop. And this one makes your vegetables grow healthy and big. Dig a foot-deep pit and bury this talisman there," he explains, a smile on his face.
She looks at him with doubt and shock but says nothing. She takes the talismans and leaves. He waves her goodbye and goes to a nearby alley to sleep.
She doubts whether these pieces of paper from a mere child could work but decides there’s no harm in trying.
At home, she tells her husband about the incident, and together, they go to their backyard, where the plants are in poor shape. They bury the talisman a foot under the ground and go back inside. They do the same in one of the coops, following his instructions. They wonder if this will finally stop the loss of their chickens to predators, though they have little hope.
In the morning, as usual, they head to their backyard. To their utter shock, the withered plants have vanished, replaced by healthy-looking ones, ready for harvest in a few weeks. They exchange amazed looks and move to check their coop. For the first time, they’ve suffered no loss of animals or chickens. They stand there, stunned.
They can hardly believe a child had solved a problem they’d dealt with for so long. With almost tearful joy, they marvel at the healthy plants thriving in the middle of winter. How could mere paper perform such wonders? They don’t understand.
They discuss the child, his age, and the death of his parents, and feel deep pity for him. Today, they decide to visit the shop and meet the child.
.
Wei Ying wakes to the sound of dogs barking. He has copied the talisman onto his undershirt to keep them away. Though he still shudders when he hears their barking and howling, he refuses to let it hinder him. He survived the burial mounds with a coreless, broken body—he will not fear mere dogs.
He stretches his tiny arms and legs, cleans his face with some fresh snow, and wonders if the kind grandmother used his talisman. Then he heads toward her shop.
Seeing her selling buns, he runs towards her and notices an old man with her. They both spot him.
"Good morning, Grandma," he says.
The old man looks at him in shock and asks his wife, “Is this the child you met last night?" She nods.
She gives him a kind smile, and they both tell him the talisman helped them. They ask where he got it.
"I made it for you. You gave me buns when I was hungry, so I wanted to help with your farm," he replies, beaming.
They are shocked to learn that such a young child could create something like this.
"I wanted to give you more, but I could only afford a few with the coins I had. The crop talisman will last until the next harvest, and the coop talisman should last for a month or two," he explains, wondering to himself how much more powerful it would be if he had his full strength.
Once again, they are astonished. They can’t understand how such a small child could know so much about crops.
"What is your name? Where do you live, child?" the old lady asks.
He bows. "This one is called Wei Ying. I sleep in a nearby alley," he answers with a smile.
"Would you like to live with us? You’ve helped us greatly. We have a small spare room in the warehouse. It’s better than living on the streets, I think," the old man offers.
Wei Ying feels tears well up in his eyes again. He wonders why he can’t seem to stop crying ever since he returned.
"Thank you, but I’m going to a faraway mountain to find a master. I’m leaving this afternoon," he says.
"How do you plan to travel? You’re still a child. The world is cruel; how will you feed yourself?" the old man asks.
With a sheepish smile, Wei Ying scratches the back of his neck. "I don’t know. My mother told me to seek her master if they didn’t return. I don’t think it’s too far from here. I’m used to living on the streets. I’ll feed on berries and fruits," he answers.
The couple nods to each other. The lady gives him a small bag of buns, enough to last a week, along with a few strips of dried meat and a small pouch of coins.
This time, tears fall from Wei Ying’s eyes. "Thank you. I will repay your kindness someday," he sobs.
“There’s nothing to repay. Kindness should be freely given. Food and water can’t be considered a debt," the lady says.
They both patted him on the back with smiles on their faces.
He smiles back and leaves.
.
.
He walks towards the Celestial Mountain after having a bun and some water, mentally promising to return the favour to the old couple.
Now he needs to find the master.He walks for several days, subsisting on wild berries, drinking from small, half-frozen streams, and sleeping on tree branches.
After many days, he finally sees the Celestial Mountain and begins to climb. The ascent takes days, and when he arrives at the gates, he finds them guarded with the immortal's Qi. He wonders if he needs to explain the entirety of his past.
He waits for three days and two nights in front of the gates. No one comes to acknowledge him. He begins to think the journey might have been in vain, until he sees a tall, slim figure approaching the gate.
He looks up in wonder. The figure is wrapped in the cleanest, softest, pale blue fabrics, swirling in the breeze, lined with golden patterns of flowers and birds. She carries a whip with a silver handle and a veil hangs in front of her face. Her magnificent aura and flowing Qi captivate him. Her long hair cascades almost to her calf muscles. He is stunned for a moment.
She clears her throat.
“What is it? Who let you onto my mountain?”
He continues to gaze at her, his mouth open, awe written all over his face.
After a few seconds, she repeats, “Who are you?”
He comes to his senses and gives her the humblest bow. “Immortal one, this one is Wei Ying, son of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze.”
He has tears in his eyes. “My mother and father passed away after a night hunt. I remembered her telling me to find you if anything happened to them,” he explains.
She looks into his eyes for some time, narrowing her gaze. After a thorough examination, she simply says, “Come.”
He wonders what might be inside the gates. Whatever it is, he is here for knowledge and cultivation, and he is determined to make the most of this opportunity.
The ground is covered in fresh green grass as he enters through the gate. The beauty of the place overwhelms him—beautiful trees, flowers, butterflies, birds singing, and water flowing in nearby streams.
He is in disbelief at the scenery. A long corridor leads him to a cottage. They walk in silence; she does not ask him anything. They reach the cottage, and she enters.
She sits across the table and pours herself some tea. The tea is exceptionally fragrant. He remains at the threshold of the cottage, waiting to be invited in. She removes her hat and veil, revealing sharp features, radiant skin, and a chiselled jawline—she looks both beautiful and extremely powerful.
She lifts her eyes from her tea and nods at him, signalling him to enter. She gives him a long look, which Wei Ying doesn’t fully understand.
She places her cup down with elegant movements and studies him again.
“How old are you?” she asks.
“This one is six,” he replies, bowing.
“How old were you?” she continues.
He is startled. Unsure whether to explain everything, he decides there is no reason to keep secrets if she already knows his real age.
“Twenty-two,” he admits, his head bowed low.
“Do you know how you came back?”
“No,” he answers, still looking down.
“Hmm, I want to know what happened to you in your past life. Give me your palm,” she instructs.
“Is it really necessary?” he asks.
“I can’t take you in without knowing everything. If you wish not to share, you can leave,” she states.
“Okay,” he says, moving his hand towards her hesitantly.
She takes his hand, holds his median nerve, and closes her eyes.
After some time, she opens her eyes and sighs heavily.
“How foolish,” she tells him.
He glares at her.
“You have a good heart. Do you understand the consequences of foolish sacrifices?”
He simply nods.
“Do you wish to amend your mistakes?”
“Yes,” he answers honestly.
“Do you still plan on going back to the Jiangs?”
“No,” he replies sternly.
“Good. I do not want to involve myself in the mess these sects create every time. I have had enough of them. I do not want to meddle in your affairs.”
A deep sorrow arises in Wei Ying’s heart; he wonders if she will send him away.
“But I can give you the knowledge you seek. You may stay here for as long as you deem fit. I don’t know if you are aware, but you had a very strong golden core. With the right cultivation and a strong core, immortality can be achieved. Do you understand?” she asks.
Wei Ying’s happiness is evident on his face. He nods with enthusiasm.
“You are six in this body, and your body needs to adjust to the core sprouting inside you. With the right cultivation techniques, you will have a core as strong as the one you gave up. This time, don’t be foolish enough to give it away. Worthiness is secondary,” she says seriously.
“Understood,” he replies, bowing.
She takes him to a small cottage not far from her own. It has a small pond in front and a tall tree behind it. She opens the door, revealing a simple interior with a small cot, a table, and a tub behind a privacy screen. A small cupboard stands in the corner.
“You shall stay here. You have access to the library, including the forbidden section, due to your mother’s morals and your rightful heart. This is what I can do for a mind that’s twenty-two years old,” she says, handing him a silver token.
He accepts it with a smile and bows.
“There are techniques and foods that can quicken growth and strengthen the core. I will teach you those. Do you want to learn the sword style I have created?” she asks.
“Yes, master. This one is thankful for your guidance,” he bows again.
“Hmm, we shall meet in two days. Take rest. Food will be served in the hall. There are a few other children on the mountain; you may talk to them as you wish. A disciple will come for dinner and show you to the hall,” she says before exiting.
Wei Ying sighs in contentment, feeling incredibly happy. He lies on the cot, thankful to the heavens and his parents for giving him another chance to live and guiding him here.
As he settles in, he feels a nagging sense that he’s forgetting something very important or someone from his past. He can’t recall what it is, but it leaves a hollow feeling in his memory and heart.
He closes his eyes, trying to remember.
A knock on the door interrupts his concentration. He gets up and opens it.
A tall disciple awaits him at the door.
Wei Ying beams and bows. “This one is Wei Ying.”
The disciple bows in return and takes him to the dinner hall.
The dinner hall is an open space with a roof. He sees a few children and youths sitting at small tables. He takes his food in silence and returns to his cottage.
.
Wei Ying settles into his new life on the celestial mountain, feeling a sense of calm that he had never experienced in his previous life. The days pass quietly, filled with study, cultivation, and a newfound sense of purpose. Baoshan Sanren's library is a treasure trove of knowledge, with scrolls and books that hold ancient secrets of cultivation, sword techniques, and talisman creation.
He focuses his energy on the talisman studies, feeling deeply connected to the craft. The scrolls on talismans and arrays are complex, but his sharp mind, still shaped by his previous life’s experiences, allows him to grasp the concepts quickly. He immerses himself in understanding the balance of spiritual energy and its manipulation, honing his skills far beyond what he had achieved in his previous life.
Two days after his arrival, as promised, Baoshan Sanren calls for him. She begins to teach him the cultivation techniques necessary to grow and stabilise his golden core. Her guidance is precise and demanding, pushing Wei Ying to the limits of his ability, yet it fills him with a sense of fulfillment. Each session leaves him exhausted but exhilarated, knowing that with each passing day, he is growing stronger.
Between his cultivation training and talisman studies, Wei Ying finds little time for anything else. The few interactions he has with the other children on the mountain are brief and polite. He keeps to himself, his heart and mind focused on his mission to grow stronger and fulfil his destiny.
Still, in quiet moments, he is haunted by a strange, nagging feeling of something missing—someone missing. A person from his past life, whose memory remains just out of reach, like a shadow at the edge of his mind. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to recall who it is, but the feeling persists, leaving a hollow ache in his chest.
.
One evening, as he sits by the pond outside his cottage, practicing a meditation technique Baoshan had taught him, he allows his mind to wander, trying once again to pull the elusive memory into focus. But, as always, it slips away before he can grasp it.
"I will remember when the time is right," he tells himself, pushing the feeling aside for now.
For now, his focus is on his path of cultivation, on becoming stronger, and on not repeating the mistakes of his past life. And with Baoshan Sanren's teachings and the vast knowledge at his disposal, he knows he will succeed.
.
After a few weeks, Baoshan Sanren takes him to the backyard of her cottage. The backyard is quite spacious, with large plum trees growing like a border. The air is clean and calming. He looks around in awe; beautiful flowers grow around her cottage, and small birds are flying around with no fear whatsoever.
She hands him a wooden sword and tells him that since he doesn’t have a proper core, he has to learn sword fighting with wooden swords. Her sword style is extremely swift and powerful. Her feet move as if she’s dancing. Wei Ying is utterly captured. He observes her with an open mouth, awe written all over his face.
He learns the sword forms from early morning until brunch, then he rests for a while and goes to the dining hall for his meal. He heads to the library right after brunch and studies until dinner. After dinner, he returns to the library and reads until he feels sleepy.
This routine continues for months. He has a jam-packed schedule; without wasting any time, he spends his days learning sword forms and studying in the library.
.
One afternoon, after his sword training, Baoshan informs him, “You have successfully developed a core, a complete core.”
He has tears in his eyes and keeps his palm against the core burning inside him. To feel the core again in his body, he doesn’t know how to feel. He cries for a few moments, having missed this dearly in his body. He had given up on being a cultivator in his previous life, having stopped thinking about his core, which was devastating as he could no longer use his sword or Qi. To feel the same ball of energy burning inside him gives him new hopes.
“At the rate you are going, you can cultivate to the same stage of your previous core within a year,” she tells him. Even she is quite shocked to see his dedication.
With her cultivation techniques and diet, he has gotten stronger not just physically but also mentally. She still hands him her core-strengthening concoction every day and makes sure he doesn’t fall into the vicious cycle of self-blame. She ensures he is taught well about self-worth.
.
The same routine continues. With a core burning bright in his body, he can infuse his experimental talismans and arrays with his Qi. He has started copying the library with his copying talismans alongside his daily routines. Baoshan teaches him safety talismans to prevent accidents while experimenting.
Months pass, and Baoshan Sanren hands him his sword—a beautiful black sword with a black hilt and a small silver lining at the end of the hilt. He beams at the sight. The sword almost looks like his old sword but is much stronger and more lethal.
“What do you want to name her?” she questions.
“Suibian,” he shouts.
She rolls her eyes and goes inside her cottage.
He practices the sword forms with sheer enthusiasm until he is covered in sweat and completely exhausted.
Each day is spent in practice, studies, experiments, and eating to grow his body to keep up with his core and mind.
Six months have passed since he received his sword. He has made immense improvements in his cultivation. His core is almost as strong as his 18-year-old core once was. He has been studying texts on resentments, music cultivation, arrays to trap resentments, and more.
He sometimes seeks his master’s help to solve his doubts. She is quite impressed with how his mind works.
.
Baoshan Sanren is having her tea after reviewing Wei Ying’s advanced sword styles. She looks at Wei Ying, who is busy washing his face.
He comes and sits in front of her with a smile after a satisfying sparring lesson.
“What is it, master?” he asks.
She doesn’t tell him anything; she just keeps looking at him. He has grown well for a nine-year-old, still having his chubby cheeks but has grown quite taller.
“Would things have been different if you were my disciple in your past life?” she asks.
Wei Ying’s face loses some color. He doesn’t speak.
“I should have searched for Cangse when she hadn’t come to visit me despite promising a visit. Do you think I would have found you if I had searched for your family?”
Wei Ying doesn’t know what to answer. He wonders if it truly matters now. Would he be the same person if his master had trained him? Would he have lost his core? Were there still chances of him experimenting with the ghost path and resentment in his past life if his master had taken him in instead of the Jiangs?
She sighs heavily. “I can feel how difficult it has been for you, but I’m truly impressed with your hunger for knowledge and cultivation. I know it’s difficult for you to live it all once again, but this is your chance to live for yourself. Don’t let it weigh you down,” she says with a sad smile.
“Master, I don’t know if I would have appreciated the secluded mountain if I were the past me. I would have been upset with the lack of worldly buzz and interactions with others. But now that I know the world outside and the tragedies of the past, I know that this is my chance to live for myself, and I am taking it with open arms. I am deeply indebted to you for your knowledge and care,” he says, bending into a low bow.
“I sense something is bothering you. What is it?” she questions.
He sighs, “I don’t know; I still feel there are some fragments of my memory displaced. I am unable to figure out what they are. My memory is many times better than my past self, yet I am not satisfied.”
“I see. Give me your wrist,” she says.
She holds it for some time and sighs.
“There are a few things which you will remember when the time is right,” she utters.
“What if the past is highly altered with the things I am unable to remember?” he worries.
“No and yes, but believe in yourself. Whatever it is, it will unfold when the time is right. Don’t beat yourself up trying to remember. You won’t be able to do it until it's time,” she consoles him.
He lets out a heavy sigh and slumps on the table.
“How is your study of resentment?”
“I have figured out a lot of things that I couldn’t due to various reasons. But many recorded things lack what I practically experienced. Since I didn’t have a core, a few things were different for me. I have been learning to manage both together,” he answers.
“Good,” she tells him, sipping her tea.
.
.
He examines his core; it is the strongest it has been. He feels happy to feel the presence of its energy in his body. He has been practicing a lot with his master.
As usual, he goes to his master.
His master is sitting with a cup of tea. She looks at him once he sits across from her.
“I have a spar arranged. I see that your core is developing very well. There are a few senior disciples. I want to test your abilities,” she says.
He beams with excitement. He has always enjoyed challenges, basking in attention, and loves testing his skills. He looks forward to showing his skills and making sure his master appreciates his efforts.