“Fang Yuan! Hand over the Spring Autumn Cicada without struggle, and I shall grant you a quick death!”
“Old Demon Fang, harbor no delusions of defiance! Today, the revered sects of the Righteous Path have united for one purpose: to trample your demonic sanctum into dust. An inescapable net of heaven and earth has long encircled this summit—today, your head and torso shall be severed asunder!”
“Fang Yuan, you damned devil! To refine that cursed Spring Autumn Cicada, you slaughtered tens of millions of innocent lives! You have committed towering atrocities—unpardonable, unredeemable, beyond all reckoning!”
“Monster! Three centuries ago you defiled my honor, robbed me of my chastity, killed the members of my family, and slaughtered every soul across nine generations of my bloodline! From that cursed hour, I have hungered to devour your flesh and drink your blood! Today, I shall make you pray for the mercy of death!”
……
Fang Yuan stood cloaked in a tattered emerald robe, his hair wild and unkempt, his body bathed in blood, as his eyes swept over the surrounding host.
The mountain wind whipped his blood-soaked garments, fluttering and snapping like a war banner.
Fresh blood gushed out from the hundreds of wounds across his body. In the mere moment he had stood there, a large pool of blood had already gathered at his feet.
Besieged on every flank by bitter foes, every path to life had long been severed.
The decree of fate was sealed; on this day, death was absolute.
Fang Yuan perceived his doom with crystalline clarity. Yet even as the shadow of death loomed before him, he remained expressionless, his demeanor unmoved.
His eyes were abyssal—like an ancient well, unfathomably deep, without shore and without bottom.
The righteous host besieging him comprised the exalted patriarchs of revered sects and renowned scions whose martial glory resounded across the world. Yet as they surrounded Fang Yuan, their composure fractured: some bared their teeth in savage roars, some sneered with brittle arrogance, some narrowed their eyes with venomous suspicion, while others clutched bleeding wounds, looking upon him with lingering dread.
None of them dared make a move; every soul among them trembled before the final, dying wrath of Old Demon Fang.
In this suffocating deadlock, six hours slipped into eternity. The sun sank beneath the western ridge; its dying embers set the clouds ablaze, bathing the mountain crest in a fierce, incandescent conflagration of twilight.
Fang Yuan, who had stood as motionless as a statue, slowly turned around.
That solitary motion sent a convulsion through the host; the multitude recoiled in unison, retreating a full pace in panic.
At this moment, the grey-white mountain rocks beneath Fang Yuan's feet had long been dyed dark red with fresh blood. His face, pale from excessive blood loss, was reflected by the sunset glow, suddenly taking on an alluring, delicate radiance.
Gazing upon the green mountains and the setting sun, Fang Yuan let slip a soft, low chuckle:
“Green mountains beneath the setting sun, autumn moon and spring breeze. Truly, in the morning one's hair is like black silk, by dusk it turns to snow; Right and wrong, success and failure—all vanish in the turning of a head.”
As the verse left his lips, memories of his past life on Earth surged unbidden before his eyes.
He had originally been a Huaxia student on Earth, cast into this foreign world by a capricious twist of fate. Three hundred years of drifting, tossed like flotsam upon tempestuous tides; two hundred years of unbridled dominion, carving his will across the world—more than five centuries, yet in the retrospect of memory, gone in the span of an eyeblink.
Countless memories buried deep within the bedrock of his soul awakened, playing across his mind with breathtaking, indelible clarity.
“In the end, I failed after all,” Fang Yuan sighed in his heart. A trace of wistfulness stirred, yet not the faintest whisper of regret.
This outcome was nothing he had not foreseen; the moment he made his choice centuries ago, he was already mentally prepared.
For what was the Demonic Path? It was to cultivate no virtuous karma, committing murder and arson; spurned by heaven and reviled by earth, making enemies with the whole world—and still running wild, following the whim of one’s own heart to the very end.
“If the newly refined Spring Autumn Cicada is effective, in the next life I still want to be an evil demon!”
Thinking like this, Fang Yuan could not help laughing out loud.
“Old Demon, what are you laughing at?!”
“Everyone be careful, the demon is at death's door and wants to counterattack!”
“Quickly hand over the Spring Autumn Cicada!!”
The righteous host surged forward, greed and panic driving them into frenzy. And in that very breath—
BOOM!
Fang Yuan brazenly self-detonated.
……
Spring rain fell continuously, silently nourishing Qing Mao Mountain.
Night was already deep, and threads of cool wind blew through the fine rain.
Qing Mao Mountain was not dark, however; from the mountainside down to the foothills, faint, shimmering lights glowed, as if draping a brilliant ribbon of radiance across the slope.
These lights emanated from rows of stilt houses—stretching not to tens of thousands of household fires, but easily numbering in the thousands.
This was Gu Yue Village, nestled upon Qing Mao Mountain, lending a vibrant touch of mortal life to the vast and tranquil mountain range.
At the very heart of Gu Yue Village stood a grand and glorious pavilion. Right now a grand sacrificial ceremony was being held, so it was brightly lit and brilliantly glorious.
“Ancestors bless us! Hope that in this Aperture Awakening Ceremony, many youths with excellent aptitude can emerge to bring fresh blood and hope to our clan!”
The Gu Yue Clan Leader appeared middle-aged, his temples touched with frost. Wearing plain white, solemn sacrificial robes, he knelt upon the brownish-yellow floorboards, his upper body erect, hands pressed together, closing both eyes to pray sincerely.
He faced a tall, black-lacquered altar table with three tiers, enshrining the spirit tablets of the ancestors. On both sides of the tablets stood red-copper incense burners, thin plumes of fragrant smoke coiling upward.
Behind him, ten-odd figures knelt in matching white sacrificial robes. These were the clan elders and decision-makers, each wielding power over various affairs of the clan.
After concluding his prayers, the Clan Leader was the first to bend down, palms flat against the wooden floorboards, kowtowing. His forehead met the brown floor with soft, rhythmic thuds.
The elders behind him, their expressions solemn, followed suit in silence.
For a time, the ancestral hall was filled only with the gentle cadence of foreheads knocking against the floor.
When the ceremony concluded, everyone slowly rose from the floor and quietly filed out of the solemn hall.
In the corridor, the elders breathed a quiet sigh of relief, the tense atmosphere easing noticeably.
Murmurs of conversation soon began to rise:
“Time truly flies. In the blink of an eye, another full year has gone by.”
“The previous Aperture Awakening Ceremony feels like it happened just yesterday; the memory is still vivid.”
“Tomorrow is the annual Aperture Awakening Ceremony. I wonder what kind of fresh blood our clan will produce this year?”
“Sigh, I only hope a youth with Grade A aptitude emerges. It has been three years since our Gu Yue clan had such a genius.”
“Indeed. Both Bai Village and Xiong Village have seen remarkable talents emerge over recent years. In particular, Bai Ning Bing of the Bai clan—his natural talent is truly terrifying.”
Whoever mentioned the name Bai Ning Bing, a shadow of worry involuntarily crossed the faces of the clan elders.
This youth's talent was extraordinary. In just two short years, he had already cultivated to Rank 3 Gu Master, standing unrivaled among the younger generation. Even the older generation felt immense pressure from this rising star.
Given time, he would undoubtedly become the pillar of Bai Village, at least a powerhouse standing on his own. No one ever doubted this.
“However, among the youths participating in this year's Aperture Awakening Ceremony, it is not as though we have no hope.”
“Quite right. A genius youth has appeared in the Fang lineage. He could speak at three months and walk at four. By age five, he could compose poems and recite verses—exceptionally intelligent and overflowing with talent. It is just a pity his parents died early, and he is currently being raised by his aunt and uncle.”
“Mm, he possesses precocious wisdom and grand ambitions. In recent years, I have heard of the poems he composed—Bring in the Wine, Ode to the Plum Blossom, and River Town. He is truly a genius!”
The Gu Yue Clan Leader was the last to exit the ancestral hall. As he slowly closed the door, the murmurs of the elders reached his ears.
He immediately knew that the elders were discussing a youth named Gu Yue Fang Yuan.
As the leader of the clan, he naturally paid close attention to outstanding juniors, and Gu Yue Fang Yuan was the most prominent and dazzling among them.
Experience had shown that those gifted with photographic memories or strength rivaling an adult from childhood almost always possessed superior cultivation talent.
“If this child tests with Grade A aptitude and is properly nurtured, he may well be able to contend with Bai Ning Bing. Even if he only has Grade B aptitude, he will certainly become a stalwart pillar and a banner for the Gu Yue clan in the future. Yet with such precocious intellect, Grade B is unlikely—it is overwhelmingly probable that he has Grade A.”
With this thought, the corners of the Clan Leader's lips lifted slightly into a smile.
He cleared his throat with a dry cough and addressed the elders: “Everyone, the hour is late. For the sake of tomorrow's Aperture Awakening Ceremony, tonight please be sure to rest well and conserve your energy.”
Hearing this, the elders paused slightly. In the glances they exchanged, a subtle trace of vigilance was concealed.
The Clan Leader's words were polite and restrained, but everyone understood their deeper meaning.
Every year, in order to recruit talented juniors into their own factions, the elders fought tooth and nail until their faces flushed red and heads bled.
It was indeed time to rest and gather strength, so they could contend fiercely tomorrow.
Especially for that Gu Yue Fang Yuan—the probability of him possessing Grade A aptitude was exceptionally high. Moreover, both his parents were deceased, leaving him and his brother as the only surviving orphans of the Fang lineage. If one could bring him into their own faction and groom him well, it could guarantee a century of prosperity for their line!
“However, let me make the ugly words clear first. Compete openly and honorably; underhanded schemes that harm clan unity will not be tolerated. Elders, bear this firmly in mind!” the Clan Leader warned sternly.
“We wouldn't dare, we wouldn't dare.”
“We shall definitely keep it firmly in mind.”
“Then we shall take our leave. Lord Clan Leader, please do not trouble yourself to see us off.”
Harboring their own calculations, the elders dispersed one by one.
Before long, the long corridor grew quiet and desolate. Spring rain and slanted wind blew through the window; the Clan Leader stepped lightly toward the window frame.
Instantly, a mouthful of fresh, moist mountain air filled his chest, refreshing to the soul.
This was the third floor of the attic; the Clan Leader looked out, and more than half of Gu Yue Village could be seen in a single glance.
At this late hour of the night, the majority of households in the village still burned with lamps and fires, vastly different from usual.
Tomorrow was the Aperture Awakening Ceremony, touching upon everyone's personal interests. An excited and nervous atmosphere covered the clansmen's hearts, naturally making many sleep restlessly.
“This is the future hope of our clan,” with dots of light reflected in his eyes, the Clan Leader sighed softly.
……
At this very moment, another pair of clear eyes quietly gazed upon those twinkling lights in the deep of the night, brimming with complex emotions.
“Gu Yue Village… this is five hundred years ago?! The Spring Autumn Cicada really had effect…”
Fang Yuan's gaze was dark and profound as he stood beside the window, letting the wind and rain beat against his body.
The effect of the Spring Autumn Cicada was to reverse time. Ranked seventh among the Ten Mystical Gu, it was naturally no ordinary existence.
In short: rebirth.
“Reborn using the Spring Autumn Cicada… back to five hundred years ago!”
Fang Yuan reached out his hand, staring intently at his young, tender, and somewhat pale palm. Then he slowly clenched it into a fist, feeling the vivid reality with all his strength.
He heard the gentle pitter-patter of drizzle tapping against the window lattice.
He closed his eyes slowly, opening them only after a long moment, letting out a wistful sigh:
“Five hundred years of experience… it truly feels like a dream.”
Yet he knew with absolute certainty: this was no dream.