original

Weeping Willow (chuí liǔ)

作者: chuju_

章節 1: The Demon Lord’s Awakening

The biting cold of winter enveloped the small village at the foot of Mount Huainan, a stark contrast to the searing heat of battle from Jun Qiguang's past life. As the first light of dawn barely touched the snow-covered ground, Jun Qiguang slowly opened his eyes, his mind heavy and disoriented.

For a moment, he lay there, unable to piece together the fragments of his memory. When clarity finally returned, the chilling reality hit him. A cold so intense it seemed to pierce through to his very bones enveloped him. Jun Qiguang frowned in confusion. As a demonic cultivator who had attained the Late Nascent Soul stage, feeling such a chill was inconceivable.

Had he not perished in that final, brutal battle against the righteous sects? Memories of that relentless conflict surged through his mind—a tide of blood and fire. They had hunted him relentlessly, and after a three-month siege, had finally succeeded in his destruction.

Reincarnation seemed a cruel twist of fate. If those self-righteous cultivators had gone to such lengths to eliminate him, the irony of his return was almost poetic.

With a derisive sneer, Jun Qiguang shifted his focus to his surroundings. He was lying on the snow-drenched ground, the snow around him stained with crimson. Every attempt to move sent sharp pain coursing through his body, as if his bones had been ground to dust. The agony was nearly unbearable, amplified by the cold that gnawed at his flesh.

The sky above was a dismal grey, and the silence was profound, broken only by the occasional, mournful howl of the wind. The village had been turned into a graveyard, the once lively marketplace now littered with lifeless bodies.

As a demon lord, Jun Qiguang had witnessed countless massacres, often remaining unphased. His unflinching demeanour had been his hallmark. Yet the sight before him was unsettlingly familiar. This street, with its bloodstained snow and the willow tree standing sentinel at the corner, was unmistakable.

This was Xishan Village—the same place where, at the age of eleven, he had fled after the murder of his parents. An old woman had taken him in, offering kindness in his time of need, but had passed away when he was fourteen. He had left shortly after her death, with no reason to remain. At that time, the village was vibrant and full of life.

Now, the village's destruction was a shocking turn of events. Jun Qiguang had never heard of such devastation occurring here, even in his demon lord days. How had things gone so wrong?

He closed his eyes, focusing on his weakened body. It seemed that he had been reborn into his thirteen-year-old self, with a body at the early stage of Qi Refining. Given his previous level of cultivation, rising to that stage again should be well within his capabilities. But his current condition was dire—his meridians were nearly destroyed, and his injuries severe.

Jun Qiguang let out a bitter laugh. It was no wonder he had been left to die. In such a weakened state, he would have perished soon enough if not for this inexplicable rebirth. But what kind of person was Jun Qiguang? He had never been one to be easily subdued. As long as a single breath remained in him, he would claw his way back from the brink of death. He even managed to come back from the dead.

Jun Qiguang closed his eyes. For now, he decided to put aside the chaos and focus on regaining his strength. With his body in such a fragile state, sleep would be his priority. He would have time to unravel the mysteries of his rebirth and the destruction of Xishan Village later.

*************

The Yinshan Sect was a prestigious cultivation sect, renowned for its reputation despite not being one of the Three Great Sects. Its prominence had surged in recent decades, largely due to its grand competition held every twenty years. This event drew sects and cultivators from across the realm, serving as a stage to showcase emerging talents.

Though the Tianyongheng Sect had never participated, its strong relationship with the Yinshan Sect earned it invitations as special guests. This time, the invitation included Yao Huaijin, the master of the Tianyongheng Sect, and Elder Huang Xueqin.

Yao Huaijin had initially intended to decline the invitation. However, Elder Huang Xueqin had encountered a serious mishap in his cultivation and was currently in closed-door meditation. With the Sect Head preoccupied with urgent matters, he requested Yao Huaijin's presence at the competition. Out of respect for his elder martial brother, Yao Huaijin agreed to attend, knowing the event would span an entire month.

On his return journey to the Tianyongheng Sect, Yao Huaijin passed by Xishan Village. As he approached, he sensed an unusual disturbance near Huainan Peak. His brow furrowed in concern, and he immediately dismounted from his sword, descending to investigate.

The village lay in a grim state of ruin. Bodies of all ages and genders littered the snow-covered ground, their still forms a haunting testament to the massacre that had transpired. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the mournful howling of the wind.

Among the carnage, Yao Huaijin's gaze fell upon a youth who appeared to be between thirteen and fourteen years old. The boy's face was ashen, his eyes tightly shut. Despite the severe injuries, Yao Huaijin detected a faint breath—a sign of life. Without hesitation, he administered a life-restoring pill and, after a quick survey of the area, lifted the boy gently and departed.

The journey to the Tianyongheng Sect was swift. Nestled atop the lofty, snow-clad mountains, the sect was renowned as one of the Three Great Sects and the most prestigious sword sect in the world.

Known as The Sword Sage, Yao Huaijin was legendary for his unparalleled swordsmanship. His blade, Silver Mist, was said to be invincible, though few had ever witnessed his full prowess due to his reclusive nature. His cold, distant demeanour had earned him the reputation of an immortal who was seen but rarely approached.

The disciples stationed at the entrance of the Tianyongheng sect observed Yao Huaijin carrying the unconscious boy with a mix of confusion and curiosity, but they did not dare to question.

Yao Huaijin's residence was located on Hefenghu Peak, the highest and most isolated of the sect's fourteen peaks. The residence was simple yet elegant, constructed from stone and wood, and nestled amidst a serene garden of snow-dusted evergreens. Directly in front of the residence, the crystal-clear waters of Yongheng Lake remained unfrozen even in the coldest winter, reflecting the surrounding snow-covered peaks and the clear sky. The pristine lake added to the breathtaking beauty of this secluded retreat.

Yao Huaijin carried the injured boy to a residence on the other side of the peak, a modest but well-maintained abode that was currently unoccupied. The residence was surrounded by a serene landscape of snow-dusted pines and gentle slopes. Frosty mist clung to the edges of the roof and the windows, creating a tranquil and secluded atmosphere. The setting was quiet, with the occasional sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the distant echo of a frozen stream. While this residence did not offer a view of Yongheng Lake, it was nestled in a tranquil part of the peak, the quiet and solitude of the location made it an ideal setting for recovery and reflection.

After a thorough examination, Yao Huaijin began channelling his spiritual energy to heal the boy's internal injuries. The warm, soothing energy flowed into Jun Qiguang's battered body, easing his pain and lulling him into a deeper, more peaceful slumber.