Snow fell like ash upon the cliffs of Lanyue Ridge.
Even now, after ten thousand years, the Monastery of Falling Stars still refused to die. It clung to the mountain like a scar, its obsidian pillars half-swallowed by glaciers, its thousand prayer bells silenced by frost.
Few dared approach it.
None returned.
And that was exactly why Ren Zhe had come.
Two days had passed since the Echo vanished in the city of Duskfire.
Two days of silence. Of thought. Of growing dread.
Ren Zhe moved through the storm without a cloak. Cold did not touch him. Hunger did not claw him. He had forged his body in solitude, tempered it in the grave.
But even now, something felt wrong.
The wind whispered names that didn't exist.
The snow carried the weight of forgotten prayers.
The closer he came to the Monastery, the heavier he felt. Not physically—but spiritually. As if the mountain was remembering him.
As if something inside was waiting.
Behind him, Meimei shivered.
"You sure this place is abandoned?" she asked.
"No," Ren Zhe said.
"Great."
She had insisted on following. Refused to let him vanish into legend without answers. And though she was weak by cultivation standards—barely in the Meridian Shaping Realm—there was steel beneath her sarcasm.
He respected that.
The monastery gate appeared in the snow.
It was not made of wood or stone.
It was made of bone.
Ten thousand swords driven into the mountain, twisted together into an arch. Each bore a name—some in ancient script, others erased entirely.
Ren Zhe stepped forward and placed his palm upon the gate.
It screamed.
Not aloud.
In his mind.
Memories not his own clawed at him—echoes of monks in saffron robes, of stars falling from the sky, of a god chained in ice.
He stepped through.
Meimei followed, pale but silent.
The storm stopped the moment they crossed the threshold.
Inside, time slept.
The air was still.
Pillars lined the temple courtyard—shattered, scorched, and yet unbowed. Statues of nameless sages lay in ruin. At the far end stood a shrine, untouched by snow, guarded by two kneeling stone warriors whose eyes still bled molten gold.
Ren Zhe's breath slowed.
He felt watched.
Not by the dead.
By the forgotten.
"You feel it too, huh?" Meimei whispered.
"Yes."
"What is this place, really?"
Ren Zhe's voice was flat. "The last stronghold of the true path. The first to fall when the world turned its back on the heavens."
"And your Echo wants to meet here? Why?"
"Because it remembers."
He stepped forward.
The ground cracked.
A symbol appeared beneath his feet—older than any formation he'd seen in this age. A seal of silence.
It didn't block spiritual energy.
It devoured it.
Suddenly, Ren Zhe's body felt heavy.
His limbs ached. His breath hitched.
Even he wasn't immune.
Meimei collapsed to her knees.
"It's… draining us."
"No," Ren Zhe said. "It's measuring us."
A voice spoke from the shadows.
"You returned."
The Echo stepped into view—no longer in the form of a boy. It now looked closer to Ren Zhe's current self. Taller. Sharper. But its eyes still burned too bright.
Behind it floated three jade lanterns.
Each held a soul.
Ren Zhe could hear them whispering.
"I told you I would," he said.
The Echo smiled. "Then you're ready to remember."
And the monastery awoke.
Bells rang.
Not with sound—but with memory.
A wave of force rolled through the temple, shaking the mountain. The stone warriors at the shrine moved, rising from their kneel. Gold spilled from their eyes, coating their weapons.
One stepped toward Ren Zhe.
"You have trespassed upon sacred ground," it intoned.
Ren Zhe didn't flinch.
"I was buried here."
The warrior paused.
"I am what they made me," Ren Zhe said. "Their mistake. Their shame. Their punishment."
The warrior raised its blade.
The Echo smiled. "Let us see if you're strong enough to bear the truth."
The fight began.
Even drained, Ren Zhe moved like a shadow with teeth.
He ducked beneath the warrior's first swing and struck its leg—no damage. The gold coating was divine, hardened by ancient celestial essence. Even his tomb-honed strength couldn't pierce it.
So he shifted tactics.
He fought with memory.
He struck not the warrior—but the stone beneath it.
The engraved seal.
With a roar, he shattered the foundation—and the spell broke.
The warrior froze.
Then Ren Zhe reached out and touched its head.
"Sleep," he whispered.
And it crumbled into dust.
The Echo clapped.
"Well done."
Meimei stood, her nose bleeding from the pressure.
"What… is this place really?"
Ren Zhe stepped toward the shrine.
And opened it.
Inside was not a relic.
Not a scroll.
Not a treasure.
But a body.
Perfectly preserved. Dressed in obsidian robes. Its face—identical to Ren Zhe's.
Meimei gasped.
Ren Zhe didn't speak.
The Echo's voice dropped.
"You think you were betrayed. But you don't remember why."
"What is this?" Ren Zhe asked.
"This is who you were. Before the grave. Before the silence. You were a god—but not the kind they worshipped."
"Liar."
The Echo gestured to the body.
"This is your anchor. The truth they buried. You didn't die. They split your soul and sealed it across time."
Ren Zhe's hands shook.
Meimei stared. "If that's true… then…"
"It means," the Echo said, "that the man standing here—Ren Zhe—is only a fragment."
Ren Zhe turned to face him.
"And you?"
"I am another piece."
The room trembled.
The soul lanterns cracked.
Ren Zhe grabbed the Echo by the collar.
"Then let's make one thing clear. If I was a god once, I don't remember it. I don't care. I'm not here to rule. I'm not here to preach."
His eyes burned.
"I'm here to punish."
Far away, in the Empress's inner court, a jade mirror shattered.
Her attendants scattered.
The Empress did not move.
"Summon the Black Lotus Corps," she said.
A general stepped forward. "They are not ready, my Lady."
"Then finish them."
In the ruins of the monastery, the Echo stepped away from Ren Zhe's grasp.
"You don't want to know the truth," he said.
"I already know enough."
"Do you?"
The Echo pointed at the corpse in the shrine.
"Then tell me—if this is just a piece of you… where are the others?"
The silence was deafening.
Ren Zhe turned.
He understood now.
The grave was not a prison.
It was a seal.
The real threat had never been just the betrayal.
It was what they'd been trying to keep locked away.
Outside, the snow stopped.
The clouds parted.
And above the mountain…
A star fell.
Burning. Screaming.
Covered in chains.