Dai's condition had worsened significantly. She was now gravely ill, unable to see or speak. The family was devastated as the doctor delivered his grim prognosis:
"She may soon fall into a coma," he said solemnly. "It seems she has suppressed a deep sorrow in her heart for far too long. Her recovery depends on finding a way to ease her pain. Try to keep her happy, give her what she desires most—but I must warn you, that may be impossible. Her love for Xiao is unmatched, and with him gone, there's little that can bring her joy."
These words weighed heavily on everyone. They knew that no matter how much they tried, they could not replace Xiao. Dai's silence and sadness spread through the household like a shadow, leaving a void that nothing could fill.
---
That same night, Zihang had a strange dream that left him trembling with fear. He saw himself in a breathtakingly beautiful flower garden, vibrant with colors and filled with the sweet aroma of blossoms. He sat in the center of the garden, surrounded by peace and serenity.
Suddenly, a woman's voice called out to him, soft and melodic. She lovingly addressed him as "Xeezi," a name that struck a deep chord in his heart. It felt familiar, like a distant memory from another life.
He turned to find her, but before he could reach her, the scene changed drastically. The garden was engulfed in flames, the vibrant flowers consumed by fire. Smoke filled the air, and chaos erupted around him. He saw warriors clashing, blood staining the earth, and the cries of people echoing all around.
The vision shifted again, and he saw himself locked in a dark room, helpless and trapped. The despair and confusion overwhelmed him, and he woke up with a start, his chest heaving.
"What kind of memories were these? What was this?" he murmured, wiping the sweat from his brow.
When his parents noticed his distress, his mother tried to comfort him. "It's just a bad dream, Zihang. Don't think too much about it. Go back to sleep and rest."
But the dream lingered in Zihang's mind. Even as his parents left for the fields the next morning, he sat in thought, unable to shake the feeling that the dream was more than just his imagination.
---
Zihang spent his days helping the villagers and wandering aimlessly, searching for answers he didn't fully understand. On one such day, his steps led him beyond the borders of his village, where he stumbled upon a group of cultivators engaged in conversation.
"The Shi Clan has become very powerful now," one of them said. "They've developed a weapon called the Fire Flower. No one knows what it is, but it's said to be devastatingly strong. How will we fight against something like that?"
Another cultivator chimed in, "The Shi Clan will soon be under attack. The Jiang Clan and the Shin Clan are planning to unite against them. They wanted the Wan Clan to join their cause, but the Wan Clan avoids battle—they prefer to pit others against each other and reap the benefits."
"The Jiang Clan is stronger than ever now," a third cultivator added. "Leeming, their youngest warrior, is nearly unstoppable. If he fights, no one can stand against him."
Hearing Leeming's name, Zihang's heart stirred. The cultivators continued talking, comparing Leeming to Xiao. "If Xiao were alive, he would have been just as powerful as Leeming," one of them said. "He had so much potential, but fate had other plans for him."
Zihang felt a strange connection to their words. Everything they said felt oddly familiar, yet he couldn't explain why. Shaking off the feeling, he returned to his village, determined to forget what he had overheard.
---
That night, as Zihang drifted off to sleep, a sudden noise jolted him awake. Rushing outside, he saw chaos unfolding—his village was under attack. Houses were burning, villagers were screaming, and armed raiders were everywhere.
Zihang's parents were caught in the middle of the battle, struggling to defend themselves. As one of the attackers raised his weapon to strike them, Zihang intervened, saving his parents in the nick of time.
But something inside him snapped. Rage filled him as he fought to protect his home and family. His movements became faster, stronger, almost inhuman. His parents, who had been unaware of any latent power within him, watched in stunned silence as Zihang unleashed a strength they had never seen before.
The attackers fled, unable to withstand Zihang's fury. When the dust settled, his parents approached him cautiously.
"Zihang," his mother whispered, her voice trembling. "What was that? How… how did you do that?"
Zihang stared at his hands, still shaking from the adrenaline. "I… I don't know," he replied, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know I could…"
The memory of his dream came rushing back—the burning garden, the locked room, the voice calling him "Xeezi." Pieces of a forgotten past seemed to be surfacing, but Zihang had no idea what they meant.
He looked at his parents, confusion and fear in his eyes. "Who am I, really?"