"...Ah, this really hurts my pride."
Bai Wusheng pulled out the cloth stuffed in his nose to stop the bleeding, his entire body aching. He touched the bump on his head, which was swollen to the size of a small egg. A light tap made him grimace in pain. He thought to himself, I, the famed Qinglian Sword Master, actually got beaten up and rolled on the ground by a twelve- or thirteen-year-old brat with a short stick?
He looked up at the sky. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on his youthful face. Bai Wusheng shook his head helplessly, then looked down at his small, tender hands. He struggled to get up, limping over to a small pond beside a tree. The water was crystal clear, and his unfamiliar face was reflected in it— a child about seven or eight years old, with a few bruises on his face, the most noticeable being a scar just below his left eye. Bai Wusheng reached out to touch his face, and his reflection in the water moved as well.
Is this what they mean by reincarnation? Bai Wusheng wondered. But I'm no enlightened monk...
"Why do I look so ragged, like some beggar...?" He studied his face in the water. "...Although I'm a little pale and skinny, I still look alright."
After saying that, he made a few funny faces at his reflection, but then the bruise hurt, causing him to flinch in pain.
While he was dazed by the water's reflection, he heard footsteps behind him. Bai Wusheng turned around and saw a boy about his age walking toward him, holding a piece of cloth.
"Are you alright?" The boy squatted down and handed him the cloth. "You usually don't make a sound when you get hit. Why are you making so much noise this time?"
Bai Wusheng took the cloth and wiped the blood off his face. He muttered under his breath that if he had known he could block it easily, he wouldn't have been so stubborn.
The boy saw that he wasn't responding and assumed he was still angry, so he patted Bai Wusheng on the shoulder and comforted him, "Don't be scared. Wang Hu just bullies us little brothers because he's older. Once we grow up, he won't be so cocky."
Bai Wusheng glanced at the boy and hesitantly asked, "By the way... have you heard of Tianmo (the Heavenly Demon)?"
The boy froze for a moment, then replied, "Of course I've heard of him. He was the big villain who wreaked havoc in the central plains two hundred years ago. In the end, our ancestor from the Little Lotus Sword Sect beheaded him. This story is well-known."
"L...Little Lotus?" Bai Wusheng doubted his ears. When did a Little Lotus Sword Sect exist?
"Yeah, surprised?" The boy puffed out his chest proudly. "Our Little Lotus Sword Sect was once a major sect two hundred years ago. Our ancestor was even said to be the best swordsman in the world!"
"Our???" Bai Wusheng was even more speechless. He looked closely at his and the boy's clothes—scruffy hair, tattered clothing, and dirt on their faces. This looked more like a beggar's or a low-ranking sect's attire, not something from a prestigious sect.
"Yeah," the boy said, looking at Bai Wusheng like he was an idiot. "You and I are both third-generation disciples of the Little Lotus Sword Sect. How else would we be here?"
"This is the sect?" Bai Wusheng quickly scanned his surroundings: crooked fences nearby, thatched houses clearly leaking in winter and summer, and a few dilapidated buildings. "No, how could Qinglian Sword Sect fall to this state?"
In Bai Wusheng's memories, although Qinglian Sword Sect wasn't the largest sect, it was always surrounded by mist, like a celestial realm. The grand hall had soaring eaves with bronze wind chimes, the training ground was paved with green stone, and the lotus flowers bloomed while koi swam gracefully in the pond...
"Because it was attacked." The boy said casually.
Attacked? Bai Wusheng's expression darkened. Was it another sect that had taken advantage of their weakness? After all, most of Qinglian Sword Sect's main force had perished on Tian Mountain, leaving behind only third-generation disciples who had only recently joined. If another sect had attacked them now, they'd have no ability to resist.
"Who did it?" Bai Wusheng asked, barely containing his anger. If another sect was responsible, he would make them pay.
"Mo Jiao (the Demon Sect)," the boy said, murmuring to himself, Did this mute just get hit in the head by Wang Hu and lose his mind? "Our ancestor beheaded Tianmo on Tian Mountain and left proof. The Demon Sect's remnants rushed into our Little Lotus Sword Sect to get revenge. Even though the Wulin Alliance came to help later, our sect was almost completely burned down. From then on, we've slowly become what we are now."
"Ah???" Bai Wusheng's face turned red with embarrassment. My fault???