The 15th Year of Jing. Bìxiāo Empire, in the Hall of Blue Light in the Blue Sky Palace.
Jian Huanying, the twenty-two year old youth, stood in the centre of the magnificent hall and laughed bitterly, his voice echoing between the gleaming marble walls. He wiped the blood at the corner of his mouth, feeling salty and warm mixed with the piercing cold air.
"Do you want to kill me?" he hissed angrily. Although his body had been injured, none of the people surrounding him dared to attack alone.
Jian Huanying, Fifth Young Master of the Jian Clan, Heaven Breaking Stream Sect. The strongest young cultivator in the clan after his older brother, Jian Wei the Divine Sword. He knew that if they had to fight him one-on-one, they would not be able to kill him.
"Jian Huanying, surrender! His Majesty will definitely spare you!" A young man persuaded him with words that sounded very wise. However, Jian Huanying knew it was just a trick.
"Hand over the Black Ice Amulet! His Majesty will definitely forgive you, Jian Huanying!" Another voice coaxed him again, who knows where it came from, but Jian Huanying didn't care.
Jian Huanying smiled bitterly. Suppressing the anger, sadness, disappointment, and despair raging within his chest. He came to the Blue Sky Palace to ask for justice, but instead was faced with death. The irony hurt his heart that had always been pure and sincere.
"You want me dead, don't you? Like you slaughtered my entire family," He hissed in unbearable anger and pain.
His hands were clenched tightly, blood dripping between his fingers. There was no more pain he felt, because the wounds on his body were nothing compared to the wounds on his heart.
Jian Huanying closed his eyes, tears dripping down his cheeks. Slowly he chanted, a strong wind suddenly blew, sounding like thousands of swords rushing into the grand hall.
However, it was only an instant as suddenly Jian Huanying's body wavered and fell to the floor. At the same time, a pair of sturdy hands reached out and held his body. The white robe embroidered with blue butterfly patterns, the alluring fragrance of black sandalwood, and the warm, gentle touch he knew so well made Jian Huanying try to open his eyes one last time.
"Jian Yi," murmured the owner of a pair of sturdy hands that were now holding his close.
"Chenxi, I have no regrets even if I have to die today. I'm sorry and thank you," Jian Yi whispered between his intermittent breaths.
"I am the wind that is free to go wherever I wish. I surrender my body and spirit to the wind along with my sword intent," Jian Yi said as his body mingled with the breeze.
"Jian Yi!" Yue Tiānyin shouted, unable to persuade the wind not to carry his friend's body and spirit away.
That day, a pair of true friends, Jian Yi and Yue Chenxi, the Demon Witch and the Heavenly Melody Master, were separated by death. A story that would be remembered and told for generations to come.
***
30th year of Jing, Bìxiāo Empire.
Fifteen years later, in a remote corner of the backyard of the Murong Noble Residence, Shanyue City.
"Jian Huanying, I give my body and soul to you with a spirit binding spell. You can live again and I can get my revenge. Isn't it a win-win?" a low murmur more like someone's babbling could be heard from an abandoned room.
The strong wind blowing outside sounded rattling, deafening. At this time of year, not a single house has its door open. According to myth, this wind carries Jian Huanying's spirit flying around the city, waiting to be resurrected.
"What am I living for again? I don't want anything anymore," a voice echoed in the ears of the troublemaker cowering in the corner of the room.
A thin, scarred body lay amidst the pool of blood and chaos in the corner of the room. It was as if he was just a meaningless piece of meat.
Murong Yi, the first son of the Murong family, was on the verge of death that afternoon. After days of torture, his protest against the actions of Concubine Ying, his father's favourite concubine, ended with him dying without anyone caring.
"Don't you want to know who framed Jian Wei fifteen years ago? You really don't want to know who was behind the massacre of the Jian Family?" Murong Yi muttered between his chattering teeth.
"Murong Yi, what do you know about that? Fifteen years ago, you were even still a child. What can you tell me?" The voice buzzed back in the poor young man's ears.
The voice of Jian Huanying, the cursed cultivator of the Sky Breaking Clan who had died fifteen years ago. The powerful and feared young cultivator, who was nicknamed the Demon Witch and had killed many innocent lives while demanding justice in the Blue Sky Palace. Unfortunately, he ended up dead.
"I know! I know everything! Because they are the same people who made me like this!" Murong Yi shouted loudly. Outside, the wind continued to blow fiercely, carrying the stench of blood throughout the city.
"Alright! I accept your offer, and I hope you don't regret it," the voice weakened, pitying the desperate figure who had no hope other than himself.
"Jian Huanying! Avenge me and I will have no regrets!" With a shout that echoed throughout the room, Murong Yi was left weak and unconscious.
"I am the wind that is free to go wherever I want. I surrender my body and spirit to the wind along with my sword intent," the mantra-like voice rang out melodiously throughout the dark, deserted room.
As the wind slowly died down, the atmosphere suddenly calmed down as if nothing had happened. No one realised that there had been a deadly exchange. The living had died and the dead had come back to life.