Zhen Hao and Lian Hua found themselves standing on the edge of a massive, glowing river. The water shimmered with a silvery hue, and faint whispers rose from its depths, voices speaking in countless languages and tones. Above the river, constellations moved unnaturally fast, as if the heavens themselves were alive and restless.
"This is the River of Eternity," said a voice, ancient and resonant. From the shadows emerged the spectral figure of the Silver Empress, her presence commanding yet melancholic. "It is the source of all cultivation, where the flow of life and death converges. Here, the truth of your existence will be laid bare."
"What must we do?" Zhen Hao asked, his eyes fixed on the mesmerizing currents of the river.
"To move forward, you must enter the river," the Silver Empress replied. "It will show you not visions, but memories—your own and those forgotten by the world. As it courses through you, it may erode your will and identity."
Zhen Hao's jaw tightened, but he nodded. Without hesitation, he stepped into the river, the icy water rising to his knees.
Lian Hua hesitated, her gaze flickering to Zhen Hao. "What if the memories are too much to bear?"
"They won't break us," he said firmly, though doubt flickered in his eyes. "Not if we hold on to who we are."
She swallowed her fear and stepped in after him.
The moment the water reached their waists, the world around them dissolved.
Zhen Hao was submerged in the shimmering waters of the River of Eternity, its currents tugging at his mind as fragments of memories drifted around him. The water wasn't cold, but it carried a strange weight—a heaviness that seeped into his soul.
Before him stood his master, Elder Yun, whose lifeless body had haunted him for centuries. Behind Elder Yun, another figure emerged, one even more painful to face: Bai Jian. His sworn brother stood tall and resolute, his sword gleaming with the light of justice, just as Zhen Hao remembered him.
Zhen Hao tried to speak, but his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. "Bai Jian… Master Yun…"
Elder Yun spoke first, his voice calm but piercing. "Do you remember the day I took you in, Zhen Hao? You were a wild child, filled with anger and fear. I taught you to channel that fire into cultivation, to use it to protect others. Yet here you stand, burdened by the lives you've taken and the bonds you've broken."
Zhen Hao's fists clenched, his jaw tightening. "I had no choice, Master. The world left me no choice. If I hadn't acted, they would've destroyed everything I cared about."
Bai Jian stepped forward, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and disappointment. "Did you care about me, Zhen Hao? Did you care about the innocents in that village? Because your actions didn't show it."
"I cared!" Zhen Hao shouted, the words tearing from his throat. "I cared so much it nearly destroyed me! But caring isn't enough. Power is the only thing that matters. Without it, we're just pawns for those stronger than us."
Bai Jian's expression darkened. "And what did your power gain you, Zhen Hao? Revenge? Strength? Look around you—what's left? The Crimson Fang is gone, but so is the boy who once swore to protect the weak. You became the very thing we fought against."
Zhen Hao's voice dropped, trembling with suppressed emotion. "You don't understand. You always believed in principles, in ideals. But those ideals mean nothing if you're too weak to enforce them."
Bai Jian's gaze softened, though his voice remained firm. "And what has your strength brought you? Loneliness? Regret? Is this the path you wanted, Zhen Hao? Is this what you dreamed of when we stood beneath the stars and swore to change the world together?"
Zhen Hao faltered, the weight of Bai Jian's words pressing down on him. The River of Eternity amplified the pain of the memories, forcing him to confront the faces of those he had failed to protect. The villagers caught in the crossfire. The disciples who had looked up to him. And Bai Jian, who had walked away, leaving a void in Zhen Hao's life that no amount of power could fill.
"I thought I was doing the right thing," Zhen Hao murmured, his voice barely audible. "I thought… if I could just be strong enough, it wouldn't matter what I lost."
Elder Yun stepped forward, his voice softer now. "Strength without purpose is meaningless, Zhen Hao. You sought power, but you forgot the reason you sought it in the first place. To protect. To uplift. Not to destroy."
Zhen Hao fell silent, his gaze dropping to the swirling waters beneath him.
In another part of the river, Lian Hua was grappling with her own confrontation. She stood in the center of her childhood village, the villagers' voices rising like a storm.
"You're cursed," one woman spat. "Your presence brings nothing but misfortune!"
"You'll never amount to anything," sneered another. "Not in this life or the next."
Lian Hua trembled, her grip on her staff tightening. The faces of the villagers blurred, shifting into the image of her master. The older woman regarded her with a cold, measuring gaze.
"You're weak," her master said. "You lack the discipline to ever become a true cultivator. You will fail, just as you've always failed."
"No," Lian Hua whispered, though her voice quavered.
"Why do you even bother?" the villagers taunted. "You're nothing but a shadow, clinging to Zhen Hao's light. Do you think he values you? He only keeps you around because he pities you."
"No!" Lian Hua shouted, her voice rising above the cacophony. "I've fought every step of the way to stand where I am."
The villagers' voices faltered, their forms beginning to dissolve into mist. Her master's expression softened, her lips curving into a faint smile.
"Then prove it," the master said, her voice now filled with encouragement. "Prove to yourself that you are worthy of the path you walk."
As the visions faded, Lian Hua found herself standing beside Zhen Hao once more. He was on his knees, his head bowed, the weight of his regrets bearing down on him.
"Zhen Hao," she said softly, kneeling beside him.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with anguish. "I've lost so much, Lian Hua. I don't know if I can fix it."
"You can't change the past," she said, her voice steady. "But you can choose what kind of future you want.
Her words struck a chord, and slowly, Zhen Hao stood. The currents of the river calmed, the memories fading into the silvery glow.
The waters receded, depositing them back in the cavern. The obelisk before them pulsed with renewed energy, a gateway opening to the path ahead.
Zhen Hao met Lian Hua's gaze, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Lian Hua. For reminding me that there's still a reason to keep moving forward."
She smiled faintly. "We've both been through too much to give up now."