Zhang Shen wasn’t sure what he hated more. The doomed future he had come from or this strange new present. Memories of Yue’s blade sliding through his ribs to stab at his heart haunted his dreams and nightmares.

The phantom pain often woke him in cold sweats, and the betrayal still stung as deeply as the wound that had ended his previous life.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The Imperial sect. He didn't know how things had changed so drastically, there were no plans to instate the sect in the world he had come from. Father had announced him as crown prince on his first birthday had clans swore fealty to him, a golden path laid before him, and everything was going so swimmingly.

Grandmasters and elders were gathered just for him, ready to impart their wisdom and techniques. His siblings adored him, even Yue, whom many claimed had been unfairly snubbed in favor of Zhang Shen. But they had shared a bond that was supposedly unbreakable, a brotherhood forged in the fires of shared dreams and mutual respect.

Zhang Shen had soared above all his peers, reaching the Foundation Stage by his fifteenth year—a feat that outstripped even the greatest expectations. Everything was going so swimmingly.

It had been that same year, he should've known the empress had long poisoned his brother against him. She was empress and yet her son was not the crown prince but rather the son of her rival the noble consort.

He had been lured to the library with words of a secret cultivation scripture, and the next, Yue’s blade was piercing his ribs. The shock of it all had frozen Zhang Shen in place, the pain a distant thing compared to the cold, unfeeling look in his brother’s eyes.

That was the moment he had realized Zhang Yue had never been his brother, not truly. Yue was Empress Chu's son before anything else.

“Yue,” he whispered the name bitterly, feeling the sharp, ice-cold sting in his chest that never truly left him. The healers believed it to be some flaw in his meridian, a defect that he was born with. Mother and Sun clan poured countless spirit stones trying to find a remedy, but nothing worked. A defect in his soul they said.

You killed me but also ruined my second chance by crippling my soul.

His mother fell out of favor with his father. This led to Zhang Yuhan. The first change in this new world. There been 5 of them, and he was barely aware when his mother told him of his newest sibling. Born to an unremarkable woman who had previously served as his mother’s maid.

When he realized he was sent to the past, he was nothing short of euphoric but everything had changed. His title was no longer his rather something he would have to fight for with the rest of his siblings. His once prodigious cultivation was now stunted, slowed by the wound in his soul.

He couldn't help but be bitter. Why should he have to fight for something that was meant to be his? It stung even more to see Yue so favored by everyone.

Li Hua had been the person who had turned things around. She had thought him out on their first day on Five Lights Peak. Saying she had a deal for him. He guarantees she becomes his empress, and he gets the might of the Li clan behind him.

How could he refuse? The Li clan was a formidable clan and Li Hua herself was a peerless beauty that he would not have denied, regardless. The thought of her brought a fleeting smile to Zhang Shen’s lips.

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Her support made him a much more attractive candidate for the throne and poised him as Yue’s rival. As a result, more disciples joined his side. But he was still second best.

The bastard was still in the lead. It took him every ounce of willpower not to strangle him in his sleep now that they shared a dormitory. The toll would be too great, father would see his soul incinerated and the Sun clan would be destroyed.

He had to have patience, he would make sure it was slow and brutal when he got his revenge.

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The man watched the happenings of the sect from his seclusion chamber, a wry smile tugging at his lips. The new batch of imperial disciples showed more promise than those from the previous generation. They were a much more interesting crop, full of potential. He couldn't help but take a look and maybe influence things here and there.

He still couldn’t fathom how the boy had convinced the brat on the throne to send the disciples to the Twilight Flame Sect, especially when they were still so green and impressionable.

“What a prime opportunity,” he rasped, his voice rough from years of silence. “The heavens are truly kind.”

He had been watching them as soon as they entered the valley. He couldn't help but criticize little Chen for that move, he wasted so much time that would've been better spent creating a greater impression.

It was particularly regretful that one of them happened upon the fading spirit in the forest. He hadn't realized it till the boy disappeared from his awareness. Even half dead the Sage of Myriad Patterns still caused him a headache.

The boy emerged soon after and his blind spot disappeared. The fool had finally died good riddance. But he had already gotten his hands on the most impressionable of them all. The peasant boy Jiang Tao.

But no matter, there were plenty of other fruits ripe for the taking, the peasant was convenient nothing more. The Zhou boy was tainted by association and he had no wish to quarrel with the lady in Dragon Gate City. He could see traces of her gaze all over him.

He considered the offspring of the Zhang brat but decided against it. The repercussions of angering the Zhang family would be too much, that particular endeavor required a more subtle hand.

He still wondered if he was being lured into a trap, that brat Haoran was never predictable.

"The boy must have inherited more than just his father’s cunning," he mused, his fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air. "To place such valuable pieces on this board… he’s either a fool or a genius."

“Time to stir the waters,” the man said softly, “Let’s see how they fare when faced with a bit of... trouble.”

As the man’s fingers continued their ghostly dance in the air, a faint, shimmering ripple spread outwards from his hidden chamber. The ripple penetrated the very fabric of the Twilight Flame Sect’s array, subtly influencing the environment around the new batch of imperial disciples.

In the sect’s bustling courtyard, where disciples practiced and exchanged gossip, an unnatural chill suddenly swept through. The temperature dropped for a brief moment, and the usual sounds of training and chatter seemed to fade into an uneasy silence.

Jiang Tao glanced around, “Did anyone else feel that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Zhou Yixing, ever the skeptic, shrugged it off with a dismissive wave. “Probably just a draft. We are in the mountains, after all. It’s not unusual for the weather to be unpredictable.”

“I guess…” he said though he couldn't shake the sudden unease.

On the tallest peak, in the Dawnmist mountains, Elder Chen Zhiyuan’s eyes narrowed as he felt the unnatural chill sweep through the sect.

He rose from his meditation and walked to the edge of the peak, surveying the vast expanse of the sect below. The winds here were often capricious, but this felt different—too deliberate.

He shook his head it was probably nothing. The sect arrays were too strong to let in outsider influence.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, though his brow remained furrowed. “But I’ll have to monitor it.”

Back in the secluded chamber, the man observed with a detached satisfaction. “The heavens are kind indeed,”