Zhou Yang stood by the window of his room, gazing out at the soft, golden rays of the morning sun. His dark eyes, now faintly glimmering with a golden hue, caught the light as he looked toward the horizon. A small smile crept onto his lips—a strange, inexplicable smile.
His long, untied hair flowed freely in the gentle breeze, adding to the surreal serenity of the moment. It was as though the scene before him had been plucked from a master artist’s brushstroke—a painting of fleeting beauty, calm yet filled with untold stories.
He closed his eyes and whispered, not to himself but to the emptiness before him, almost as if he were speaking to her. “Can I now... let go of those emotions?”
The wind seemed to answer him, picking up slightly, brushing past his face, and carrying his untied hair back as if in agreement. Zhou Yang chuckled softly.
If someone saw me now, they’d think I was mad, he thought. Yet, there was a weight to that wind, as though it had acknowledged his question. He stood there a few moments longer, letting the sun warm his face, then turned back toward his room.
As he stepped inside, he muttered with a faint smirk, “Better make this life worthwhile. If nothing else, it’s more interesting than that darkness.”
His tone was casual, even mocking, but the meaning behind his words hung heavy. That darkness he referred to—it lingered in his mind, though he chose not to dwell on it.
---
Zhou Yang sank onto his bed, staring at the intricately carved ceiling above. His thoughts drifted aimlessly, filled with questions about the life he now found himself living.
A knock at the door pulled him from his musings. A familiar voice followed. “Young Master, may I come in?”
“Come in,” Zhou Yang said, his voice steady but welcoming.
Meng Yao entered with her usual grace, carrying a tray of medicine. She bowed slightly and greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Young Master.”
Zhou Yang nodded, already accustomed to her morning visits. Ever since his recovery, Meng Yao has been diligent in attending to his every need, especially administering the medicine prescribed by Physician Du.
Setting the tray down, she handed him the cup of medicine. Zhou Yang took it without protest and drank it in one go, wincing slightly at the bitter taste.
“You could at least add some honey to this,” he said with a playful smirk, handing the cup back.
Meng Yao giggled softly, though she quickly composed herself. “Physician Du says the bitterness is part of the healing process, Young Master. It’s meant to cleanse your body of impurities.”
Zhou Yang sighed theatrically, setting the empty cup back on the tray. “I’m perfectly fine now, aren’t I? Yet you all insist on treating me like a fragile vase.”
“Physician Du instructed caution,” Meng Yao replied gently as she moved to help him change. Zhou Yang opened his mouth to object but stopped short, knowing where it would lead. He’d learned that Meng Yao’s tears were far more difficult to deal with than her insistence.
As she dressed him in a black inner garment layered with a flowing robe, Zhou Yang noticed how the outfit complimented his long black hair and golden-hued eyes. Once Meng Yao finished tying his hair in a practical yet elegant style befitting a young master, she stepped back to inspect her work.
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“You look perfect, Young Master,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“Perfect?” Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Don’t raise your standards too high.”
Meng Yao smiled but seemed to remember something suddenly. Her expression shifted as she spoke. “Young Master, I nearly forgot. The Patriarch has organized a banquet to celebrate your recovery.”
Zhou Yang blinked, caught off guard. “A banquet?”
“Yes,” Meng Yao continued. “The Patriarch announced your recovery a few days ago, and the banquet will be held tomorrow.”
Zhou Yang leaned back slightly, his mind turning. He wasn’t entirely surprised—celebrations for recovery weren’t uncommon even on Earth. But the sheer weight of a Zhou family banquet likely meant something more.
---
Zhou Yang’s memories filled in the blanks. The Zhou family was an ancient and powerful clan in the Baihu Domain, located in the northern part of the domain. Despite the region being ruled by an emperor, even the sovereign trod carefully around the Zhou family due to their millennia-long history and immense strength.
And that’s just the surface, Zhou Yang thought, recalling how even his inherited memories lacked the full scope of the Zhou family’s influence. There’s something more, something that even the original Zhou Yang didn’t know.
Their seat of power was in White Fang City—a sprawling metropolis in the White Cloud Empire, steeped in tradition and martial dominance. The city was home not just to the Zhou family but also to prominent sects and influential merchant groups, all of whom paid their respects to the Zhou’s authority.
Zhou Yang sighed softly. And now I’m supposed to be the heir to this? No pressure at all.
Meng Yao’s voice brought him back to the present. “Many notable families and sects have been invited, Young Master. Among them, the Gu family, your mother’s side, will attend. Representatives from the Wang family are also expected, as well as members of the Azure Sword Sect and the Radiant Spear Sect.”
Zhou Yang nodded as she listed the names. He noted each one carefully until Meng Yao mentioned the last. “And the Su family will be attending as well.”
At this, Zhou Yang paused, though he quickly composed himself. From the memories, he knew about the Su family and his fiancée, Su Yun. Their engagement had been a matter of convenience, arranged by their families after a chance meeting between the two.
Su Yun... Zhou Yang thought, his mind drifting to the memories of their interactions. They weren’t cold to one another, nor were they romantically involved. Their relationship resembled that of close friends, bound by a shared dedication to cultivation. Two kids more obsessed with techniques and progress than anything else, he mused. Their parents, however, had misunderstood their camaraderie and arranged their engagement.
No wonder it feels so strange. Zhou Yang sighed. Practically no feelings involved, just a partnership that outsiders decided was romantic.
The engagement, however, had caused complications. The most notable was Ye Tian, a jealous young cultivator who had challenged Zhou Yang out of infatuation with Su Yun. Zhou Yang could feel a flicker of anger rise as he recalled the incident through the memories. Ye Tian, unable to accept defeat, had used a forbidden technique to turn the tide of the fight, leaving the original Zhou Yang bedridden for two years and regressing his cultivation from the peak of Foundation Building to the peak of Qi Refining.
Ye Tian... You cheated, and I paid the price. Zhou Yang’s fists tightened momentarily before he forced himself to relax. But that’s not my battle anymore. I’m not here to settle old scores.
He let out a soft sigh and shook his head. This banquet is going to be exhausting. I’m sure not everyone attending is genuinely happy about my recovery.
---
After a moment, Zhou Yang turned to Meng Yao. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get some breakfast.”
Meng Yao nodded eagerly, leading the way as Zhou Yang followed.
As he walked through the halls of the Zhou family estate, Zhou Yang couldn’t help but think about the banquet ahead and the expectations, and relationships he would soon face. For now, he could only hope that tomorrow would pass without any unexpected hitches.