The moon hung high in the starless sky, reflecting its silver glow on the charcoal tiles of Qianyang Summit. Yuelong’s robes waved goodnight in the cool breeze as he strolled down the corridors of the place he called home. Like a lifeless zombie, he gave no thoughts to where he would wander. His usually poised back was replaced by a forward slouch; his eyes, soulless without a spark in them.

Cries of celebration whispered softly in his ears. A small “hmph” poked through the silence as he shook his head.

You… How could you… His thoughts started. Why did they do it? Why did YOU do it?

To the Qianyang sect, Yuelong was the future pillar of support, the young lord of Qianyang, the one next in line. For something to damage Yuelong’s soul to the point that he could become despondent to everything around him—a depression like this would have already broken a normal person’s will to live.

You promised me... You lied… His eyes frowned as these thoughts swam in his head.

An image of a teenager flashed in his mind, the youth’s voice crying a promise that echoed through Yuelong’s body, tearing deeper and deeper into his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the threatening moisture back into his eyes. He tried to swallow but was met with opposing forces from his heart. What was this feeling?

What am I doing…? What was he doing? Where is he…

As he watched his feet step slowly forward, one after the other, on the wooden planks of the corridor, whispers of excitement drifted to his ears from one of the rooms.

“—totally!”

“We’ll have to sneak out though. Don’t want Yixiao Zhenjun to catch us… Who knows what he’ll do to us if we’re caught…”

“The only time is now! Stop being such a chicken.”

“Don’t you remember what happened to the last guy who was caught? He was thrown into the Pit!”

“Yeah, and you’ll be thrown into the Pit by her if we don’t go now…”

“That’s right...Can’t keep my beauty waiting…”

Muffled, lascivious chuckles came from the room.

Two young men emerged from the doors, their faces flushed red. That was until they noticed that the very person that they were talking about had appeared right in front of their eyes. The joy immediately left their expressions upon seeing the jade green robes of Yuelong.

The young Yuelong of the Qianyang Sect also had another name, one given to him by the elders, who did not wish for his future to be narrow and limited, only to become the next Fan Haoren. They wanted someone who could expand and grow the sect, and so they gave him the title Yixiao Zhenjun, Righteous but Free.

Upon seeing him, the two youngsters immediately knelt, their eyes wide, staring at the floor. Both trembled at the thought of lying hungry in the cold, humid Pit—even a predecessor of theirs had nearly died from the punishment.

Neither of the two were brave enough to whisper a sound. Just the thought of being caught by Yixiao Zhenjun was enough to make them wet their pants, let alone actually getting caught!

But to their surprise, the young lord continued his stroll, unbothered by the two youngsters shaking with fear.

The two youngsters looked at each other and then turned to watch the future leader of Qianyang slowly walk down the corridor.

“Wh-what just...happened?”

“Shhhh! Are you stupid or what? Ever since this morning’s battle, he’s been like this.”

“You mean when the sect leaders killed Chixi Mojun and threw him off—”

Upon hearing the name Chixi Mojun, Yuelong turned his head to look at the two youngsters.

“What did you just say?” Yuelong asked. The atmosphere between the three immediately turned cold, as if millions of needles made of ice surrounded the youngsters, threatening to pierce them under their weight. The youngsters, seeing that Yuelong’s attention had now shifted onto them, knelt rigidly on the cold, heartless floor. Luckily, one of them still treasured their lives and pressed his friend’s face to the floor while he himself did the same, both bowing with immeasurable respect and fear.

“For-forgive us! He’s drunk! He doesn’t know what he’s saying!” begged the youngster.

Knowing that gossip and rumours cannot be stopped with simple punishments, Yuelong turned his back on them and continued his wandering.

Rumours, huh? Even though what happened today was witnessed by the sect's leaders and by Yuelong himself, he couldn’t bring himself to believe what he saw…

He thoughtlessly wandered back into the old room where he used to sleep before his adulthood. He closed the door behind him and sat down on the dust-collected bed. Soft beams of silver moonlight lit the paths of flight taken by the fluttering specks of dust, as if trying to fly away from the melancholic aura that Yuelong radiated.

From the hidden pocket inside his sleeve, he whisked out a small jar of wine and settled it down onto the table next to him. He picked up a book covered with dust and blew on it. The Journey of Immortal Liu. Yuelong flipped to a random page, only to find it covered with stickmen drawings. He let out a hollow chuckle as he traced his finger over the stick figures.

The image of a seven-year-old boy materialized in his mind. Short fingers grasped a brush, scribbling in a book. “Look, shi-xiong! I drew Immortal Liu!” the boy shouted with excitement.

Yuelong clenched at his chest. What is this feeling?

Yuelong suddenly found the room hard to breathe in, the room spinning in his head. He took off the lid on the wine jar and pressed the drink to his lips. The fiery liquid acted on its own and slithered down his throat. Like lava, it burned all the way to the bottom of his stomach.

He wiped his mouth with his long sleeves, caring no more for the rules of his sect. He looked at the floor where the bookshelf once stood, and another memory came spiralling back.

The same young boy, who had just turned sixteen, danced his way across the room, twirling in his jade green robes like a spinning flower.

“Stop it! You’re going to knock something down!” the teenage Yuelong ordered. “It’s just a birthday, no need to be so happy about it...”

But seeing the joyful look on his shi-di’s face, Yuelong gave in to his junior’s fancies. He clasped his hands around his shi-di’s and twirled around with him. As they spun faster and faster with every step, they quickly flew out of control.

“Don’t be scared, Yuelong! Just hold on to me tight!” his shi-di exclaimed.

“I’m not!” lied Yuelong, who had indeed just turned sixteen and who had been afraid of losing control. Drops of sweat formed in his palms, and he soon lost the grip on his shi-di.

BAM!

Both boys were flung into the bookshelf by the force.

At the last moment, his shi-di twisted his body and made himself land first on the bamboo bookshelf, before Yuelong tumbled into him and sent them crashing into the bookshelf and onto the floor.

“Oof!” Lying on top of his junior, Yuelong found himself looking into the boy’s eyes. It was just like staring into pools made of pure molten gold. A small beauty mark sat beside his left eye, his eyelashes long, his irises deep with hint of amber.

“Ba-dump… Ba-dump…”

All was quiet except for the beatings of their hearts.

Yuelong clutched at his chest, the pain piercing through his heart. He took another swig from the snow-white jar. This time, the stinging liquid, as if understanding the torment in his heart, was a lot gentler in flowing down to his stomach.

He tipped the jar.

Emptied. Just like his heart.

His vision blurred as he tried to get up from the bed. His knees, as if non-existent, were unresponsive to his commands. He fell back, lying down on the bed. The atmosphere, like a heavy blanket, tucked the young lord into bed and kissed him goodnight. Darkness gradually overtook his vision and his hearing. Lanyue...come back...to...me… He felt a trickle of water roll down his cheek.

That night he was tormented. The events of that terrible day came to taunt him in his sleep…

Yuelong’s sword gleamed in the rising sun as he and other disciples charged up the mountain. It can’t possibly be him? he thought to himself as he leapt and ran up the steep mountain.

Every morning as kids, they would charge up this mountain as a part of the physical training of cultivation. It was something they would no longer have to keep doing once they could make a round trip up and down within two hours.

But this time, Yuelong felt as if the God of Time had stopped his divine work. Everything slowed to a snail’s pace. Faster...the peak is in sight...almost there…

With a single leap, he flew over the crowd of cultivators gathered on the Cliff of Regret and Resentment. Just as he landed, he caught a glimpse of his father piercing his sword into a red figure. As Yuelong focused his eyes on the red figure, he noticed the immense dark aura that the figure emitted. Then he saw his face. It was Nan Lanyue—his shi-di.

"..."

With a single palm strike charged with spiritual energy, Lanyue sent Yuelong’s father tumbling back towards the crowd. Using his sword as support, Yuelong’s father rebounded the force of the strike and sent it into the ground, lessening the impact of the fall. But still, Yuelong could see a trickle of blood running down his father’s lips.

Lanyue spat out a mouthful of blood as the blade withdrew from his body. He scanned the faces of the cultivators, with murderous intent. No one dared to move against such a powerful foe.

In the aftermath, the cliff was a mess. The bodies of Yuelong’s fellow cultivators lay exposed under the rising sun. Some of the bodies even had visible handprints on their chest plates, the blow having created small fissures on the silver metal.

Lanyue’s eyes immediately locked onto Yuelong. They were no longer the kind and soft eyes that Yuelong remembered from their youth. The man’s brows, like sharp blades, slanted upwards; his pupils fixed and pierced through Yuelong’s heart.

“Your death is near, you demon!” declared a sect leader, pointing his sword at Lanyue. “Any last words?”

He laughed, immediately shutting everyone up. Like the evil demon lord he was, his laugh sent chills that crawled like centipedes down everyone's backs. Even Yuelong was stunned with shock.

To everyone else, Lanyue was the scarlet demon lord, the Chixi Mojun. But to Yuelong, he was his shi-di. No. He was someone even closer.

“Quick! He’s weakened! We must finish this!” cried Yuelong’s father, coming back to his senses.

Before Yuelong even had a chance to step in, the other sect leaders released strikes of energy from their palms and blasted it towards Lanyue.

With the remaining portion of his energy, Lanyue fended off half of the blast with a thin sphere of red energy, but the other half tore through his protection and pushed him off the cliff.

“You'll remember…” his last words trailed off as he fell down the abyss.

The crowd stood baffled as they all processed what had just happened. The leader of the Bi An Island was dead! The evil leader Chixi Mojun was dead! The crowd rejoiced, while Yuelong’s shoulders slumped forward. He plunged his sword into the ground, leaning on it. He felt lightheaded as he heard the relieved and joyous cries of his fellow cultivators.

He simply could not believe it—that his childhood friend, his shi-di, Nan Lanyue, was the demon lord they had been fighting all this time. That day, when all rejoiced at the death of the evil sect leader Chixi Mojun, Yuelong’s heart sat at the bottom of the cliff that it was thrown from, along with him.

He’s not dead… He’ll be back, just like he promised three years ago…

Yuelong staggered his way back to Qianyang Summit, taking no notice of what others said to him. His eyes were unfocused and misted over.

So this is the pain of succumbing to attachments.

No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, no matter what he thought or what he did, he couldn’t avoid the truth—the truth that Lanyue was not coming back, that he would never see him again.

He had lost him to death, forever.