Chapter 2: Returning to the Past with Five Centuries of Knowledge
Translator: Skyfarrow
Editor: Skyfarrow
Legends say a river of time flows through this world, maintaining its cycles and rhythms. By harnessing the power of the Spring Autumn Cicada, one might travel upstream, revisiting the past.
But belief in this legend varies. Many dismiss it as myth, while others remain cautiously skeptical. Few actually dare believe it.
After all, to activate the Spring Autumn Cicada, one must sacrifice their life, using their entire being and cultivation as fuel. It's an enormous price, and even after paying it, one can't be certain of the outcome. This uncertainty has deterred even those who possess the Spring Autumn Cicada from using it without caution. What if it were only a hoax?
Fang Victor, however, had no choice. Cornered, he used the Cicada, and now the proof of its power lay before him: he had been reborn.
"I sacrificed everything—thousands of lives, endured countless hardships, incited both the heavens and men against me—to refine the Spring Autumn Cicada," Fang Victor mused, "yet now, it's gone."
The Spring Autumn Cicada didn't return with him. Gu insects, born from heaven and earth's essence, came in countless forms, each possessing unique qualities. Some would vanish after a single use; others could endure if not overstrained. It seemed the Cicada was the former.
"But even if it's gone, I can still refine another," he thought with renewed resolve. "I did it once; I can do it again."
While the loss stung, he hadn't come back empty-handed. His greatest treasure remained: 500 years' worth of knowledge and experience.
With such an immense reservoir of memories, treasures yet to be discovered, pivotal events, and insights into legendary figures, Victor had a significant advantage. If he planned wisely, he could easily surpass those around him and, ultimately, break boundaries that once felt insurmountable.
"How to proceed?" he pondered as he watched the rain fall outside his window. 500 years was a long time; many memories were hazy, and even the specific timing or location of events had faded.
But his immediate concern was cultivating power. Here and now, he was just a mortal—no Primeval Sea, no Gu powers. If he moved too slowly, he'd miss opportunities. He needed to establish a solid foundation, and quickly. However, without strength, venturing into dangerous territories in search of hidden treasures was unwise.
"To cultivate swiftly, I'll need the clan's resources," he calculated. "In this weak state, even a mountain boar could kill me. But if I reach the Third level of Gu Master, I can defend myself and leave these mountains."
Looking out at the modest Gu Yue Village on Qing Mao Mountain, it struck Victor as a cage—restrictive yet safe. For now, he'd stay here, bide his time, and grow stronger. Fortunately, the Awakening Ceremony was the next day. Soon, he'd take his first step as a Gu Master.
At that thought, memories of past humiliations returned. A derisive smile formed on his lips.
"Talent…" he murmured, glancing into the rainy night.
Just then, his door creaked open, and a young man entered. Slightly shorter than Victor, this youth had a strikingly similar face.
"Victor, why are you standing at the window in the rain?" the boy asked.
Victor recognized him immediately: his twin, Daniel. For a moment, an unreadable expression crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with indifference. Daniel's familiar, deferential stance—head bowed, eyes downcast—triggered memories of their shared past.
"I saw your window open, so I thought I'd close it for you," Daniel explained, his voice low. "Tomorrow is the Awakening Ceremony. You should rest, Victor. Aunt and Uncle would worry if they knew you were still up."
Victor couldn't help but laugh silently. Aunt and Uncle? They were more concerned about wealth and status than family. Their parents had perished in a clan mission when the twins were only three, leaving them orphans. The inheritance they'd left had been siphoned by their guardians, who treated them harshly until Victor's intelligence forced them to see value in him. To protect himself, he'd maintained an indifferent facade for years, keeping his true abilities hidden.
For Daniel, though, his guardians' favor was genuine, fueled by the future benefits of investing in a talented young Gu Master.
Yet, Victor knew what would unfold: at the Awakening Ceremony, it would be revealed that Daniel, not he, was the one blessed with A-grade talent. This reversal of fortunes would turn the family dynamic on its head. Victor would become "ordinary" in the clan's eyes, enduring years of hardship and disdain, while Daniel would rise to prominence.
In his first life, Victor had resented it all—the lack of talent, the clan's callousness, even his own family. But now, armed with 500 years of wisdom, he felt only indifference. Resentment held no value.
He gazed at Daniel with detached clarity. The strong consumed the weak; self-interest drove everyone. War and conflict were constants, and every soul grasped at advantage where they could.
"My goals are beyond revenge," he thought. "The path of the Demonic Way doesn't bow to sentiment."
Turning to Daniel, he simply said, "You can go."
Daniel flinched at his brother's cold, piercing gaze, feeling exposed. "Th-Then… I'll see you tomorrow, Victor." Shutting the door quietly, he left.