On a secluded island enveloped in a thick veil of mist, a young boy perches by a weathered window, his gaze fixated on the vast expanse of the ocean.
He delves into the recesses of his memories through his cerulean eyes, brimming with an overwhelming sense of sadness.
This boy, Liang Jianwei, possesses the hidden mist technique, his existence reborn from a leap into the misty mountains, thrust into a world teeming with enigma and uncertainty.
His past life lingers in his consciousness, intertwining with his present, compelling him to safeguard the legacy of the hidden mist technique.
In this life, he only has his mother, the sole confidant who holds the key to his father's identity. Yet, despite his persistent inquiries, his mother remains resolute in her silence, her affection for Jiang Jianwei evident in her nurturing demeanour.
This existence starkly contrasts with his previous incarnation, where his mother honed his swordplay skills and regaled him with tales of the hidden mist technique and the formidable warriors who harnessed its power.
"Jiang Jianwei, do you know why the Hidden Mist Technique is so dangerous?" his mother asked.
"Because it is so powerful that it could turn anything to mist," the boy answered.
"That's true, but there is another reason," his mother replied.
"What is it, mother?"
"The hidden mist technique is challenging to master, and once mastered, the user becomes immortal," his mother said, her voice serious.
"Immortal?" Jiang Jianwei's eyes widened.
His mother nodded.
"The reason the hidden mist technique is so dangerous is because the user can use it to escape death," his mother said. "No one can harm you when you fully master it, and I heard some other rumours, but that is not for you to know now."
"Mother, tell me about the warriors who used the hidden mist technique," Jiang Jianwei asked.
"There have been many noble warriors throughout history who have used the hidden mist technique. One of the greatest was the founder of the Hidden Mist Sect, Jing Yun."
"Jing Yun? Mother, tell me about him," the boy pleaded.
His mother smiled.
"Very well, Jiang Jianwei, I will tell you the tale of Jing Yun," his mother said.
His mother began telling him about the founding of the sect and the events that led up to it.
"Jing Yun was a young man with an innate cultivating talent. He was also an orphan and raised by an elderly couple. He was fond of the mist around him and always wanted to be one with the mist. When he was 16, he left his home and travelled to the Misty Mountains to find an answer."
"Jing Yun spent three years in the Misty Mountains, meditating and training. During his time in the mountains, he discovered the Hidden Mist Technique. He immediately realised the danger of the technique and vowed to keep it a secret until he was ready to take on the world. He returned home and trained for another three years, honing his skills and becoming stronger. When he was ready, he left home and travelled the world, bringing justice to those in need. His blade can cut through anything, and he is immune to the elements. No one can touch him, and he is the most feared warrior in the world. He is also known as the Hidden Mist God," his mother said.
Jiang Jianwei was amazed by the story, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Mother, can you tell me about the other noble warriors who have used the Hidden Mist Technique?"
His mother smiled.
"Of course, my son. There have been many noble warriors throughout history who have mastered the Hidden Mist Technique. However, none have achieved immortality, except for Jing Yun."
"What about the current Hidden Mist Sect?" the boy asked.
"They are the descendants of the noble warriors, and they continue to practise the Hidden Mist Technique. They are a secretive sect and only share the technique with a select few. But to my knowledge, none of them could master it."
"But how did you know about the Hidden Mist Technique?" the boy asked, his curiosity piqued.
His mother looked away, a pained expression on her face. But before she could answer, Jianwei's memories suddenly halted as a loud voice rang in his ears.
"Jianwei! Dinner!"
Jiang Jianwei jumped into his seat. He shook his head, the memories of his past life slowly fading. He looked up and saw his mother standing by the door, a smile on her face.
"Come, son. Let's eat," his mother said.
"Coming, Mother."
Jiang Jianwei followed his mother to the kitchen, the memory of his past life slipping away into the mists of his mind.
As they ate dinner, Jianwei noticed his mother staring at him worriedly.
"Mother, is something wrong?"
His mother shook her head.
"Nothing, Jiang Jianwei. You're now 15 years old and can awaken your soul essence."
Jianwei looked at his mother in confusion.
"What is a soul essence, mother?"
His mother sighed, stood up, and put away her empty bowl.
"It is a power that all beings have when they are born, allowing us to have a special ability. You will gain soul power when you awaken your soul essence, allowing you to control this ability."
Jianwei nodded. This world differs from his last, but he can easily adjust.
"And when will I awaken my soul essence?"
"In a week. The Cerulean will come and help with the soul awakening."
Jiang Jianwei tilted his head in curiosity. The Cerulean sounded familiar, and he recalled his mother talking about them.
"Who are the Cerulean?"
"They are the embodiment of justice. They are an organisation that has existed since the beginning of time, and their purpose is to protect the weak and bring justice to the unjust."
Jianwei thought back to the hidden mist technique. If this is a world where justice and order are embodied, then this is the place for him to be.
Or it's a place just like the Hidden Mist Sect but needs a good cleaning, and he, with the power to change the world, believes he should be the one to do so.
"I see. I will not fail you, mother."
Jiang Jianwei smiled at his mother, his eyes filled with determination.
She smiled back, but deep down, her heart was filled with worry.