A cold draft blew against the top of Tsi Yi’s chest, making him shiver right as his eyelids fluttered open.

Darkness and faint light. Those were the immediate things he saw. The shadows took up far more space, coloring the entirety of the…cavern he was presently in, except the floor he lied supine on, which was decorated every which way with fragments of yellow glow stone. Tsi Yi could tell the current cave he was in was massive just by how far countless glow stone fragments stretched across his vision.

His entire body, especially his shoulder, screamed in pain the instant he tried sitting up. To his horror, lacerations that ranged from the size of his toe to the length of his arm were scattered across his body; the one on his shoulder particularly deep; all of these were the wounds he’d sustained from the masked attacker of the Mu Lian Hueye Sect.

With no spiritual energy, Tsi Yi could not heal himself. He considered screaming for help but fear of what else the darkness inside this cavern held, stopped him.

With no other choice, Tsi Yi had to activate several emergency numbing acupuncture points across his body that not only stopped his bleeding but also numbed his entire body of pain in the process. Activation of any of these acupuncture points were a dangerous feat because they were the equivalent to tourniquets tied around whichever limb it was activated on and necrosis was set to follow if the pressure points were not switched off in 2 days’ time.

Tsi Yi had to find a way to get his wounds treated before then.

Because of how hurriedly he’d left Lan Xiu, during a funeral no less, he didn’t carry any of the standard medicinal powders cultivators usually carried with them in case of exact circumstances like this.

Why was he always so unprepared? So inept and incompetent? Tsi Yi fought back the hit his head against the wall in self-punishment; he was injured enough as things were.

Right now, the important thing was discovering where he was.

Cautiously, Tsi Yi took an exploration of his surroundings.

After a while, he realized where he was.

It was hard to identify because everything was covered in pitch black ash and soot, the overt signs of a huge fire. Additionally, there were huge slash marks lining every wall of the entire cavern, in every direction. An epic battle must have taken place here at one point…in this Martial Hall.

The Great Martial Hall was a palatial sized artificially constructed cavity inside Half Moon Mountain in the Northern territory. It was used by the Five Great Sects anytime they needed to officially bring their sects together, such as for martial tournaments or conferences announcing something to all sects.

It was considered a sacred place and entry for anyone was prohibited except when accompanied by one of the five leaders, every rock and crevice intended be treated with the utmost care.

But this current Martial Hall…had been completely destroyed by…someone?

Xing Yue.

For some reason that name immediately popped into his head.

Tsi Yi shook his head to clear his mind. There it was again. These random words or statements that he could not fathom the origins of appearing inside his head…

Tsi Yi thought about all that he knew about the man. 13 years ago, he’d started a war against the Five Great Sects. He’d once been a Lan Xiu Sect disciple alongside him and Mo SuFang...but had defected at age 15.

Yeah, he’d done some secret research still despite his Shifu Xuanren Mei’s advice. It hadn’t resulted in much because most of the sect obliged by their leader’s advice to let him gradually find out about things, but still, there had been at least one loose tongued shidi he’d been able to turn to his side: having defected at 15, no one even knew he was still alive until after he started a terrorist campaign against the Five Sects, donning a “gold masked alias” before the years of the war.

Tsi Yi remembered that latter phrase now because his eyes just happened to fall on a large piece of chiseled yellow glow stone that was probably the most intact source of original illumination still in this Martial Hall. It was about eighty-percent of the word “Righteous” meticulously shaped and carved out from a giant piece of yellow glow stone.

This word, along with “Dignified” “Filial and “Loyalty” had originally hung in the center of the Martial Hall’s ceiling, lighting up the entire cavern, along with several other strategically placed glow stones on evenly spaced intervals across the walls.

Tsi Yi knew all this because he’d studied about the hall before in bamboo scrolls. As an inept disciple and cultivator, he’d never been invited to step foot into this place before.

Or so he thought.

Because as Tsi Yi stared at that partially broken word “Righteous” that was more than twice his height and five times his width, Tsi Yi found his surroundings shifting before his very eyes.

He found himself standing in the former glory of the Martial Hall, filled with hundreds of people; everything and everyone was grayed out, frozen in place. He was standing on the elevated stage at the forefront of the hall, alongside five other powerful looking men, one of which he immediately identified as his Shifu Xuanren Mei.

The other four on stage had to be the other sect leaders of the five great sects.

Tsi Yi had never personally seen any of them before now-

Or so he thought, because in a moment, Tsi Yi saw himself, amongst the hundreds of grayed out disciples from the five sects beneath the stage; everyone, including his past-self, looked up towards his spot with bewildered fright and shock.

Present-day Tsi Yi took in his past-self’s appearance: he looked actually quite similar physically to his present self since all cultivators aged slowly, even the inept ones. Nonetheless, Tsi Yi could tell he was much younger in this past scene just from the feeling he got looking at those wide innocent trembling eyes. Or was that just the way he always looked?

Aside from the sect leaders on stage, there was a huge group of females dawned in revealing salacious silk outfits on stage: the majority which were all corpses, drenched in blood with their throats slit. The few females still alive numbered eighteen, kneeling in front of two of the five sect leaders, their frozen gray expressions contorted in anguish and overtly begging for something.

Finally, there was one other person of significance in the scene: a tall man with long black hair flowing down his back in plain form fitting white robes wearing a gold mask. He had his arms crossed out in front of his chest, his stance overtly one of scorn and derision.

When he’d materialized into the scene, Tsi Yi had actually appeared right in front of the masked man’s sword but he’d had his back facing him so he hadn’t noticed him initially.

Even if Tsi Yi didn’t remember his shidi’s words about the ‘gold masked alias’, even if he’d yet to see the frozen masked man move, speak or even breathe, Tsi Yi somehow knew without a doubt that this guy was Han Xing Yue.

The scene unfroze.

Color seeped into everything and everyone as they came to life.

“Why would you commit such an atrocity?!” the youngest of all the sect leaders, Liu Guang of the Mian Yu Sect, screamed at Xing Yue before drawing his green iridescent blade.

Sea-green sword light enveloped the entire stage, a razor sharp slash heading straight for Xing Yue -only to be blocked in the blink of an eye by a black drawn blade, dark as the most unseeing night.

Xing Yue chuckled heartily, not the least bit intimidated. His voice was warped and demonic sounding, completely unrecognizable from his regular tone, derision and contempt in every word: “Why such anger Sect Leader Liu? Li Shi’s your fiancé, right? Now that she’s been thoroughly educated in the finest whore house of the land, I’m sure she’ll be quite experienced when you-”

“SHUT UP!”

Black and sea-green Qi slammed into each other, two spheres of raw spiritual energy that sent ripples across the entire Martial Hall, causing nearly all the disciples beneath the stage to fall to their knees.

Unlike when present-day Xing Yue had fought against Mo SuFang, Tsi Yi could actually make out the moves set Xing Yue used here against Liu Guang. In fact, Tsi Yi could even see the specific moves the sect leader used.

The latter used the Mian Yu Sect’s distinct sword plays while Xing Yue used…sword plays Tsi Yi could not identify. The style of attack was different than any other he’d ever studied before in the historical archives; extremely powerful and malignant, every move felt like it was meant to send an opponent to hell.

As far as he could remember, this was the first time Tsi Yi had ever witnessed Xing Yue’s clear battle style. If the man really had been a Lan Xiu Sect disciple than that meant he must also know the 16 Sword Plays of the sect, right? He was not using them right now to keep his identity hidden, not because he didn’t know them, right?

A female stepped through him suddenly, breaking Tsi Yi’s train of thoughts; she watched the airborne battle with wide worry filled, trembling eyes glued on Liu Guang’s form.

Tsi Yi took stock of the woman: dressed in see-through pink silk outer robes and a form hugging yellow inner robe, clad in heavy makeup the woman was just like the other females on stage.

Standing so close and undetected to her, Tsi Yi could tell what her heavy makeup hid: deep bags under the eyes, scowl and frown lines on forehead, stress lines in the corners of her mouth. If not for all these deterrents, she probably would have been a natural beauty.

Tsi Yi supposed this girl was Li Shi, the aforementioned fiancé.

So…judging by their conversation, Xing Yue had…sold the girl to a brothel before she could marry Liu Guang? Tsi Yi looked with trembling eyes on all the other licentiously dressed females on stage…had he forced the same fate onto all of them? Were they all relatives of the five sect leaders?

All these corpses…had they been killed or committed suicide out of shame?

Tsi Yi hadn’t noticed Li Shi’s form originally because she’d been standing hunched behind Liu Guang when the scene started.

Powerful slashes of black and green Qi rained down onto the cave’s walls again and again; Tsi Yi knew there was no risk of a cave in because of the schematics he’d studied.

This Martial Hall had been built right near the summit of Half Moon Mountain and fortified with strong structural arrays, layer upon layer, that provided a hundred-thousand-fold infrastructure. It was a place meant to house fierce martial tournaments through its extensive network of caves after all. If it wasn’t sturdy then wouldn’t that be an accident waiting to happen?

Xing Yue and Liu Guang’s swords met each other, again and again in a clash of supreme power but soon it became obvious that Xing Yue had the upper hand.

Like the Lan Xiu Sect, the Mian Yu Sect’s offensive moves were sword plays combined with spiritual energy.

Though he did not know specifics, Tsi Yi had heard there were more than five hundred different stages and nearly 300,000 different variations available to be utilized against an enemy. It was the principle of quantity over quality; attacking with enough variety and raw power that left an enemy disorientated and therefore unable to defend or attack.

Xing Yue had not only seen through every variation presented towards him and deflected it back to Liu Guang but he’d also found the core weakness for the foundation to all of the Mian Yu Sect’s Sword Plays. He broke through every one of Liu Guang’s moves and effectively counterstriked.

Xing Yue began to toy with Liu Guang: there were several instances where he had an opening to make a fatal strike but instead he dealt excruciating non-lethal hits, again and again, all across the man’s body. Soon Liu Guang’s speed was debilitated enough that he was essentially a prey in the air, waiting for slaughter.

Each slash of Xing Yue’s sword sent ten cuts across the man’s body -just as he raised his blade again, four sword slashes hurtled towards him. Xing Yue evaded them by literally vanishing from one spot to the next, speed quicker than lightning.

Four people hovered in the air opposite him in the next moment: Xuanren Mei, Luo Fan, Song Hexian and Sima Wei.

Everyone expected the battle to finish quickly now that the four sect leaders were attacking in a united front but they were all proved critically wrong.

Han Xing Yue moved with the fluidity of water, evaded like the wind, and struck with the strength of the earth, completely faultless and impervious to injury.

No matter how the four sect leaders attacked with their unique sect’s skillset and weapons, Xing Yue was able to predict their movements before they struck. Never once getting hit. Not only that, he had also found the core weakness for each sect leader’s moves set, striking each of them through their defenses just like he’d done with Liu Guang.

Who was this masked man?

Present-day Tsi Yi could feel versions of this one question surfing through the hundreds of disciples next to him, Li Shi and Liu Guang’s bloody maimed form in the center of the Martial Hall.

From the instant the four sect leaders attacked, the fifth sect leader had plummeted straight to the cave’s marble floor. Li Shi had rushed off the stage with present-day Tsi Yi following her as she knelt down next to Liu Guang’s side.

She checked his vitals while weeping and screaming for someone to heal him.

“He needs help! Please!”

Quite a few medical disciples stepped forward but each got literally stopped in their tracks by deep indentations that suddenly appeared before their feet.

When had the masked terrorist sent the air slashes, no one was clear, but the message was transparent: help Liu Guang and you’ll face the same fate as the man.

Li Shi continued weeping, shaking her fiancé gently while continually begging for someone to come help. While she sobbed, her revealing robe (that had gotten partially sliced by the air slashes Xing Yue sent just now) slid off her shoulders and a large portion of her breasts and legs were revealed.

There was a silent but tangible reaction from the watching crowd of predominantly male disciples around her; some in subtle appreciation, some in overt appreciation, some in shyness turning away etc.

Li Shi didn’t even seem to notice the state of her clothes, too overtaken by her worry and grief.

Suddenly a sky-blue robe fell over her shoulders, a moment before someone knelt down alongside her, extending green Qi infused palms over Liu Guang’s bleeding form.

Tsi Yi gasped.

It was his past-self.

He’d taken off his own outer robes to drape over Li Shi and was now trying to heal the man Xing Yue had maimed.

In the next moment, a visible sword slash hurtled through the air in their direction; past Tsi Yi was yanked back by a fierce grip on his arm by none other than past Mo SuFang, a moment before the slash hit the spot he’d just been in.

Present-day Tsi Yi furrowed his brows in bemusement.

So…past Xing Yue wasn’t nearly as concerned about his welfare as his future self was?

Li Shi screamed.

Though Xing Yue’s last slash had missed it’s intended target, it had severed both of Liu Guang’s legs from the kneecaps down.

Past Tsi Yi looked up with trembling wide green eyes towards the gold masked terrorist.

Not only had the man never stopped his combat against the leaders but he had actually forced two of them to fall back, cradling serious injuries: Luo Fan and Sima Wei.

Only Xuanren Mei alone was adept enough in medical Qi among the five sect leaders to heal their critical wounds. Unfortunately, the aforementioned man was way too occupied right then to help, throwing every bit of his strength alongside Song Hexian against their seemingly invincible foe.

Present-day Tsi Yi stood next to his past counterpart; appearance and height identical except for the blue robes and high ponytail the past version wore: it was the mandatory attire for Lan Xiu disciples.

Tsi Yi could remember distinctly the years he spent dressed like this…yet bizarrely he could not recall even one moment of this attack in the Martial Hall.

Currently, both past and present-day Tsi Yis looked up with bated breaths at Han Xing Yue’s gold masked form as he sent strike after strike against the two remaining sect leaders. They could barely block each blow in time, having no chance to make an offensive strike.

Suddenly, a swirling silver vortex came shooting towards Xing Yue’s back, aiming to strike at his spine -trying to take him by surprise- but with just one backwards flick of Xing Yue’s black sword, the vortex was stopped in its track. It was like something jamming metal gears -a moment before the central mechanism was decapitated.

Sima Wei.

It was Sima Wei. The leader of Si Jing had just gotten his head sliced off by Han Xing Yue.

“I knew at least one of you would resort to such an underhanded trick,” Xing Yue tsked while the man’s body plummeted to the Martial Hall’s floor.

The scene fell into chaos; Sima Wei’s body and head plummeted to the ground below, disciples ran out of the way to avoid both his corpse and the splatter of blood raining down on them; screams of panic and fear filled the air.

If this masked terrorist could kill a leader of the Five Great Sects, what chance did any of the disciples have?!

Though everyone was visibly frightened and Tsi Yi could feel the palpable desire within the crowd to flee. No one actually moved from their spots. The reason for this was obvious: the first person to actually flee would be labelled as a coward forever in the martial world’s eyes, since it was against practically every honorable code of conduct to escape when an elder needed help.

Of course, once the first person ran away and the precedent had been broken…then everything was free for all.

But just who exactly was going to be that first martyr?

It would naturally be someone who did not mind tarnishing his own reputation…someone who perhaps already was known for being a coward amongst his peers…someone who was inept at fighting and naturally would not surprise anyone if they chose to runaway first.

Present-day Tsi Yi gulped.

Oh god, please don’t make him have to personally witness his own cowardly self running away…

High above everyone in the air, Xuanren Mei and Luo Fan sent an all-out dual attack, their red and yellow Qis combining through their swords as they rushed towards the masked man simultaneously. Their attack got stopped yet again by Xing Yue’s black blade.

With another flick of Xing Yue’s wrist, another killing strike was dealt.

But only to Luo Fan. The leader of the Lian Su Sect fell to the Martial Hall’s floor, right next to Sima Wei, dead just the same.

Xing Yue had the chance to kill Xuanren Mei with that strike too but he’d only pushed the man back with a Qi blast from his palm, knocking the older gentleman into the cave wall far opposite of them. Xuanren Mei was embedded into the cave’s wall and did not move again.

Only Song Hexian, the leader of San Mu, stood against Han Xing Yue now. The man’s blue steel blade pointed straight towards his masked opponent but making no move to charge, waiting. Up till now, Song Hexian had played a very passive role in the fight, sustaining the least amount of injuries than anyone else.

Suddenly, all the witnessing disciples who had all been reluctantly standing stiff int their spots, scattered in every direction one could imagine.

Present-day Tsi Yi lost sight of himself and past Mo SuFang in the panicked stampede. People ran through Tsi Yi in the hundreds, completely oblivious to his incorporeal form as they all sprinted for the closest tunnel out of this central hall.

What just happened?

No one had made the first move to leave like he’d thought but rather they’d all uniformly decided to escape at once. Even if they had all decided to no longer care about being labelled a coward, there’s no way they could have all made that mental decision at the same time.

And that’s when Tsi Yi remembered, the San Mu sect specialized in telepathy. Had their sect leader, Song Hexian, actually sent a mental message a moment ago, telling everyone to flee? Naturally, if a sect leader gave the official ‘okay’ there was no more need for a pretense of courage.

Present-day Tsi Yi stayed rooted in his spot as the room cleared; all that remained soon were just the corpses of Sima Wei and Luo Fan, the half-dead maimed form of Liu Guang and Li Shi -who still wore Tsi Yi’s outer robe, the unconscious form of Xuanren Mei embedded into the cavern’s wall, and finally Song Hexian who circled the air opposite of Han Xing Yue, still refusing to make a single offensive strike.

The last sect leader only continued blocking the onslaught of melee slashes sent hurtling in every direction towards his body.

Present-day Tsi Yi wondered, what was the sect leader waiting for? There seemed…a deep amount of hesitancy inside Song Hexian’s movements, like he was afraid of something…did he know of Xing Yue’s identity behind the mask? Was he afraid of something else the man had yet to unleash?

Suddenly, the world melted around Tsi Yi once again.

The colored interior of the cavern was replaced with the grayed out exterior of a snowy mountain summit. The sky was clear, the sun shining full and unobscured down upon a frosty slope with a solitary masked figure frozen in half step in the snow.

Xing Yue.

Behind the man was the majestic entrance to the Martial Hall, Tsi Yi recognized it from the scroll paintings he’d studied before, except now the entrance was consumed in an inferno that probably rivaled the fires of hell in intensity.

Tsi Yi had materialized right next to Xing Yue’s masked form as he made to leave the summit. Just like last time, color seeped into the scene before everything came to life.

The crunching of running footsteps behind them shocked Tsi Yi and he looked back right in time to see his past-self racing towards their spot.

“Wait Xing Yue! Don’t leave!”

His younger form called through short panting breaths as he desperately sprinted across the thick snow. He tripped twice in the process to fall flat on his face.

Ugh. Present-day Tsi Yi could hardly stand to watch. Facepalming himself, he felt reminiscent embarrassment through this flashback even if he had no specific memories of having lived through it the first time.

Past Tsi Yi picked himself up and called once again: “Xing Yue! I know it’s you! Don’t go! Please!”

Han Xing Yue never stopped, never looked back, never even spared him a fleeting side glance as past Tsi Yi continued calling out to him -only continuing to trek down the slope.

Present-day Tsi Yi could tell what Xing Yue’s objective was: to get to a point on the mountain where the anti-travel arrays were no longer in effect for.

Xing Yue may not have acknowledged past Tsi Yi’s call but he also didn’t hasten his trek down the mountainside -and with past Tsi Yi’s desperate, hurried pace- the latter finally caught up to the former-

-or tried to. As soon as he got to just an arm’s length away from Xing Yue, the gold masked man drew his black blade and pointed its edge right against past Tsi Yi’s throat.

Unlike the present obsessed version, this past-Xing Yue stared at him with such…menacing eyes. He really looked like he would kill him.

“Get lost.”

Past Tsi Yi shivered beneath that hate filled gaze, gulped twice, before summoning his courage: “Xing Yue…I-I…y-you…what ha-ha…I ha-I-…how have you been?”

Present-day Tsi Yi face palmed himself again.

That was the question he finally decided upon?

Han Xing Yue seemed to find this statement stupid too because he just scoffed in mocking amused scorn. He retracted and sheathed his sword, before turning away in derisive scorn, continuing his trek down the slope again.

Past Tsi Yi waited a few moments before starting to follow again.

Present-day Tsi Yi walked in front of them both, stepping backwards down the slope while trying to keep both his past-self and Han Xing Yue in his field of view.

Past Tsi Yi: “Xing Yue…I-I-I…I never stopped looking for you during these past 7 years.”

Present-day Tsi Yi almost tumbled down the mountain at these words, steadying himself at the last moment. He let Xing Yue walk past him so he could observe his past-self’s shy flushed expression.

Whoa.

That look…he recognized that look…

…because it mirrored his own present-day expressions whenever he was left completely alone, in the dark confines of his room, with nothing but his memories of Han Xing Yue circling his mind…

The masked man made no move like he’d heard his past-self, continuing to descend with Tsi Yi following at about a meter behind.

“Everyone in Lan Xiu was worried about you. After…that fight, you suddenly left without a word or letter to anyone, leaving just like Suhua-”

In an instant, Xing Yue had past Tsi Yi pinned onto his back, that black blade once more drawn and pressed threatening against the trembling man’s pale neck.

“I’m warning you. You’re not fucking worthy enough to mention that name to me,” Xing Yue seethed close against past Tsi Yi’s face.

Present-day Tsi Yi was just as startled and pale as his past-self; his heartbeats exploding across his ears. He had both of his palms pressed tightly against his pounding chest as his breaths came out in shallow gasps.

When Xing Yue had flown back to suddenly tackle his past-self, he’d also unknowingly passed straight through his current incorporeal self -and in the split moment, when he’d seen that fierce gold masked face coming straight at him with his black blade drawn, present-day Tsi Yi had thought he was actually going to be stabbed.

What was it that his past-self had said just now to trigger Xing Yue so badly? Something about ‘leaving…just like Suhua’…why did that name sound familiar?

That’s right.

According to his disciple brothers, Han Suhua was Xing Yue’s older sister. The only family he had growing up with all his other family deceased.

His past-self shivered under the intense glare behind that gold mask, jaw parted in shock and fear. Xing Yue seemed just about to cut into Tsi Yi’s throat -only to suddenly jump up, somersaulting through the air a moment before a spiritual arrow, engulfed in blue flames, pierced the spot he’d just been in, disappearing as soon as it hit the snow.

Present and past Tsi Yis gasped.

That arrow.

Mo SuFang.

They turned their identical heads simultaneously in time to see their best friend leaping through the air and sending twenty more spiritual arrows through the spiritual crossbow he’d manifested.

Xing Yue created a shield by spinning his black blade at a rapid pace using his own spiritual energy, disintegrating all the projectiles as they hit.

Present-day Tsi Yi was reeling.

That’s right! Mo SuFang’s spiritual weapons! He remembered this!

Unlike usual cultivators who got their spiritual swords around age ten, Mo SuFang had been unable to awaken one until his mid-twenties. Not to be defeated, the persevering man had conjured weapons using his spiritual Qi in the interim, transforming them depending on the situation.

He remembered when Mo SuFang first proposed this idea as a teen in class. No one had ever done anything even remotely close before so everyone of their peers had thought him stupid just for suggesting it.

Tsi Yi alone had been the only disciple brother to actually think he could do it. Visiting and bringing the boy lunch while he spent years drudging through the Lan Xiu training grounds, giving him positive encouragement whenever the extruded Qi extinguished; healing his injuries whenever a spiritual weapon exploded as he tried to wield them; comforting him when others made fun of him etc.

Finally, when Mo SuFang actually pulled off the incredible feat at age 19, changing his spiritual Qi at will instantaneously in front of their entire sect, everyone had been stunned into silence -except for Tsi Yi.

Because he’d always known Mo SuFang could pull it off. He could do anything.

Because he was Mo SuFang.

…

Present-day Tsi Yi felt like his head was going to explode.

If he could remember about the nature of his best friend’s spiritual weapons so clearly, why couldn’t he remember the man using them against Han Xing Yue? Especially since he was right there, acting like the damsel in distress that he always was, as Mo SuFang jumped to stand protectively in between him and the masked man.

“Xing Yue, enough is enough!” SuFang exclaimed; his spiritual crossbow transforming into a flat sword he pointed towards the man.

Han Xing Yue tsked.

The two fell into combat for the second time before Tsi Yi’s eyes; he stood passive and silent on the sidelines with his other self.

Unlike when he’d fought against the sect leaders, Han Xing Yue had no need to hide his identity through the sword skills he used against SuFang: he used the Lan Xiu Sect’s 16 Sword Plays.

His moves fell almost in exact synchronization with Mo SuFang.

Present-day Tsi Yi couldn’t deny the truth: Xing Yue really had been his disciple brother.

So why couldn’t he remember him?!