Back then.
When a dense horde of the Demon Race descended upon the gates of the Chang Family estate, he and Woyu were still in the back mountains, learning swordsmanship from a family retainer.
The Demon Race swept through like they were walking through an empty realm, cutting their way straight from the entrance into the main hall.
The screams, the sounds of battle, the gushing of arterial blood—all of it reached the Chang siblings' ears, minds, and hearts through their father's communication talisman.
The demons had come too suddenly. There was no longer any time for the Chang Family to ask neighboring aristocratic clans for help; they could only pour every last ounce of strength the clan possessed into sending a glimmer of hope out into the world.
Their father told the two of them to leave immediately.
Chang Huaijin refused to listen; he wanted to stay and fight to the death. He was barely a youth. He and Chang Woyu possessed the Heavenly-grade Spiritual Roots that the Chang Family had prayed for over countless years, and the entire clan had spared no effort in cultivating them. He had been raised with a strict sense of righteousness within the Chang Family, brimming with the pride and spirit of youth. They did not understand how to evade, nor did they understand the meaning of retreating at such a moment.
He only knew that rather than lying low for years to seek revenge, he would rather die in his homeland alongside his kinsmen. That, at least, would make him the heroic soul he had always dreamed of becoming in his childhood fantasies.
Yet Woyu was different.
Chang Huaijin had no desire to let his sister stay. "Woyu, go."
Chang Woyu was a rare young woman with a face as cold as frost. She was far more composed than Chang Huaijin, and matured much earlier.
Time was too tight; she had no surplus time to deal with a brother whose blood was boiling over.
Even though she harbored the exact same thoughts.
Still, she kept her reason. She understood their father's intent.
"Master, knock him out."
The moment Chang Woyu spoke, Chang Huaijin immediately tried to flee.
His twin sister's word was absolute.
The retainer made a split-second decision, bringing his palm down to chop Chang Huaijin unconscious.
He saw Woyu smile at him, just as they used to when they clung closely together in their childhood.
When Chang Huaijin opened his eyes again, he and Chang Woyu were already lying inside the Chang Family ancestral hall.
Chang Woyu's eyes were tightly shut, and there was not a trace of color left on her face. That very morning, she had been in high spirits, declaring that she wanted to wear her new clothes to practice her sword. Now, her garments were in tatters. Three inches above her chest, a glaring sword wound pierced all the way through. It had been pulled out, and blood continuously gushed forth.
Outside the ancestral hall.
The retainer was surprised by his awakening, but there was no time left for pleasantries. The retainer simply called out, as he always had, "Young Master."
He closed the ancestral hall doors.
The Teleportation Array was activated by spiritual qi.
Clutching the bleeding, unconscious Chang Woyu to his chest, Chang Huaijin looked around. The Chang Family cultivators whom he knew so well were covered in blood, sitting cross-legged around the Teleportation Array as if burning through their very last shred of spiritual qi.
One by one, the figures before him collapsed.
His field of vision grew increasingly distorted.
Space and time were tearing apart, warping. He and Chang Woyu struggled within the rift.
Chang Huaijin's eye sockets were burning red, but he could not open his mouth to refuse; he could only press down hard on his sister's continuously bleeding chest.
If he left Chang Woyu here, she would surely die.
He swallowed his tears.
He also began to channel all of his own spiritual qi into the Teleportation Array beneath them.
He told himself that all these sacrifices were worth it.
He would definitely have his revenge.
Yet no matter how much he told himself it was worth it, Chang Huaijin knew with absolute clarity that it was not worth it at all.
In the end.
The Teleportation Array failed.
The Demon Race easily breached the ancestral hall where the million heroic souls of the Chang Family slumbered. The cultivators around them no longer had the strength to resist, yet the spiritual qi required by the Teleportation Array was still insufficient.
Grinning hideously, the demons drew closer, brutally slaughtering the Chang Family cultivators. Then, it was the turn of the two who had been protected in the absolute center.
Chang Huaijin summoned his Spirit Sword, shielding his sister with one arm, his eyes burning crimson.
*Clang*—
A flash of sword light cut through the air.
A long, intensely satisfying line of blood spurted from the ferocious head of the demon directly in front of Chang Huaijin.
With a single sweep of a sword.
The heads of every demon in the hall hit the floor.
With demon blood, they paid tribute to the heroic souls of the Chang Family who had just perished.
The newcomer leisurely paced into the hall, still murmuring something.
Without even looking at him, the newcomer raised a hand to supplement the missing spiritual qi.
The Teleportation Array activated.
Amidst flowing brilliance, Chang Huaijin's spiritual qi was completely exhausted. A violent sensation of space-time tearing rushed toward him, and he only had time to tuck Chang Woyu into his embrace before being struck head-on by the force and collapsing into unconsciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, standing tall amidst a forest of peach blossoms was Ruan Wei, transcendent and ethereal, looking like an immortal who had descended to the mortal realm.
Ruan Wei did not disembark at the mountain gate; she sailed her boat straight into Cui Yanjun's small courtyard.
"Third Uncle-Master, Third Uncle-Master!"
Jumping down from the Spirit Boat, Ruan Wei shouted toward the house, "Somebody's dying, help!"
"What are you shouting for? You're so old and still so lacking in composure."
Cui Yanjun emerged, carrying a winnowing basket of medicinal herbs.
Feng Wuya had already sent him word, and Ruan Wei's divine sense had been picked up the moment she flew the spirit boat onto the Immortal Sect.
Chang Huaijin jumped down from the Spirit Boat, holding Chang Woyu, and lowered his head in a bow.
"Greetings, Immortal. This junior is Chang Huaijin..."
Seeing that the two of them were covered in blood—especially Chang Woyu, whose color had completely drained away—Cui Yanjun stepped forward quickly, channeling spiritual qi to protect her major acupoints. Frowning, he said, "No need for formalities. Lay her down inside on the bed."
Chang Huaijin was anxious as well.
He hurried inside and placed Chang Woyu on the bed.
Taking a deep breath, he then stepped back out of the room.
Before heading inside, Cui Yanjun tossed a bottle of medicinal pills into Chang Huaijin's arms. "Replenishment Pills. Circulate your qi three breaths after taking them. Weiwei, draw a Demon-Cleansing Array for him."
Ruan Wei immediately agreed.
"Isn't the Immortal a sword cultivator? How does she also know array formations?"
Chang Huaijin was puzzled. Ruan Wei looked slightly surprised. "Every disciple of Penglai has to learn them. You don't learn them in Tongzhou?"
Hearing this, Chang Huaijin held Penglai in even higher regard.
In Tongzhou, the Great Dao was divided with extreme precision. People did whatever their specific discipline required, and very few individuals practiced two or three paths simultaneously.
The main reason was that a cultivator's energy was limited; mastering even a single path thoroughly was no easy feat.
The vast majority of cultivation resources in the Cultivation World were concentrated among the Ten Great Sects and various aristocratic families.
Rogues and independent cultivators had it even harder.
The aristocratic families monopolized resources, and nearly all major Secret Realms and blessed lands had already been fully partitioned.
Furthermore, sects almost exclusively specialized in a single path. For instance, if a cultivator wished to learn the sword upon registration, they went to the Wanjian Sect; if they wanted to become a medical cultivator, they went to Wangxi Valley; nobody would ever decide to study the Path of Destiny and instead run off to the Beast Taming Sect.
Sects like Penglai that taught everything under the sun were truly rare.
On second thought, this was likely thanks to Penglai's knack for producing prodigies; otherwise, dual-cultivating multiple paths would be no simple task.
"Is Tongzhou relatively... single-minded?"
Chang Huaijin squeezed out a response.
"Ha," Ruan Wei raised an eyebrow. Her features were too cold and aloof, but the raised brow instantly lent her a touch of prettiness. "Then you're in for a world of suffering from now on."
Hahahaha.
Second Uncle-Master could finally torment more than just her and Senior Brother.
Over the past four years in the Scripture Pavilion, through some unknown late-night efforts, Ruan Wei had already surpassed Xiao Xuantong's progress.
She had smoothly advanced to the second floor in three years and started undertaking more sophisticated studies.
As for Xiao Xuantong, he had spent three years, and then another three years, banging his head against the first floor with zero progress.
From now on?
The way Ruan Wei said it made it sound as though she really would be kept by Feng Wuya to become a formal disciple of Penglai.
That would be wonderful.
Chang Huaijin was not a person given to unrealistic ambitions, but hearing her make such an assumption, he felt a sudden, dazed urge to laugh.
"Troubling you, Senior Sister."
He suddenly, naturally, blurted out the title.
Oh, so uttering the words "Senior Sister" could be this simple.
Hearing him change his form of address, Ruan Wei didn't put on airs either. "Mm. Take your pill, I'll guard your meditation."
Chang Huaijin obediently followed instructions.
Ruan Wei took out a spiritual brush, recalled the method for drawing a Demon-Cleansing Array, lowered her head, and began setting up the array.
Half a zhuke passed.
Ruan Wei finally lifted her head. It was finished.
Fortunately, she hadn't broken her stroke; she hadn't made a fool of herself.
"Not bad. Faster than last time by the span of an incense stick."
Suddenly, Chaojian's voice drifted in from the courtyard entrance.
"Second Uncle-Master!"
Catching sight of the newcomer, Ruan Wei joyfully ran toward him.
Chaojian hadn't been around Penglai for these past few days; he seemed to have gone to Tongzhou to inspect seals across various regions. His main disciplines were Body Cultivator and Formation Cultivator, which was why both Ruan Wei and Xiao Xuantong had been personally taught array formations by him.
Xiao Xuantong genuinely lacked the patience to learn formations, and after being forced to memorize them for so long, he could now only recall a basic Spirit Gathering Array.
Chaojian remarked that Xiao Xuantong had indeed tried his best, and thereafter he focused solely on teaching Ruan Wei.
"How is it, Uncle-Master? This one is even larger than the one I drew last time. Have I made a lot of progress?"
Chaojian flicked his whisk, nodding with reserved dignity.
After several years of living together, virtually everyone in the Penglai Immortal Sect had become like family to Ruan Wei.
She smiled mischievously. "Where has Second Uncle-Master been recently?"
"I made a trip to the Valley of Ten Thousand Demons." Mentioning this, Chaojian couldn't help but let out a hint of impatience, raising a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. "The seal broke, and quite a few old demons managed to slip out."
The Valley of Ten Thousand Demons?
Ruan Wei's brows knitted together.
How could it be happening now? Shouldn't there still be a year left? Wasn't her Junior Master still trapped inside?
"Uncle-Master, are there still cultivators inside the Valley of Ten Thousand Demons?"
Ruan Wei couldn't help asking.
Chaojian gave her a strange look and shook his head. "How could there be cultivators in the Valley of Ten Thousand Demons? That's an ancient battlefield. The souls of the demons who died there never dispersed, and over time, they congealed into old demons."
"In the Valley of Ten Thousand Demons, cultivators cannot survive."
No, they could survive.
Like her Junior Master.
[He does not count as a Spirit Race cultivator.]
The abrupt sound of the AI.
The System hadn't shown itself in a long time, and even when Ruan Wei obtained some inexplicable memories over the past four years and questioned the System about them, the System would only offer ambiguous answers.
Or else it would tell her to explore on her own.
In the depths of her mind, Ruan Wei responded with surprise, "You're finally awake! I thought you had gone into permanent hibernation."
[I was in hibernation, but I occasionally monitored your progress.]
From its abruptly shrill voice, Ruan Wei could easily discern its internal collapse.
"Rescue me, don't be upset, it hasn't reached 100% yet anyway." Ruan Wei comforted it.
[Is there any difference? Four years, and he went from 70% to 85%. Ruan Wei, tell me, what, is, the, dif, fer, ence, between this reverse progress and a direct system collapse?]
The final few words seemed to be squeezed out through its mechanical gears.
"Well, you know I can't leave the island, right?" Ruan Wei offered a dry explanation. "Even if I wanted to tell Master and the others, I couldn't. The moment I try to speak, the Heavenly Dao restriction hits me."
The System fell silent.
It wasn't as though it didn't know the things Ruan Wei mentioned.
But what on earth was the point of exhausting nearly all its power to reverse time and return to the very beginning of the story?
[Forget it. I know you tried your best. So, do you have a guess now?]
Ruan Wei nodded without hesitation. "Of course."
"It's Junior Master, isn't it?"