Still trapped in the darkness, Jiang Yunxian woke as if from an ordinary afternoon nap.
He yawned loudly, stretching both arms above his head until his bones gave a satisfying crack. The movement was slow, unhurried, the kind of stretch made by someone who had absolutely no intention of taking the universe seriously. There was a lazy confidence in the way he rolled his shoulders, like a man who believed that no matter what strange trouble he woke up in, it would eventually sort itself out.
For a brief moment, he simply stood there, blinking sleep from his eyes.
Then he realized.
There was nothing.
No ground he could truly see, though he could feel something solid beneath his feet.
No sky. No walls. No direction. Just darkness—dense, oppressive, and endless. It swallowed every edge, every outline, every trace of familiarity.
His brow furrowed.
He had just woken up. And this was what he got?
Outrageous!
He clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Seriously?" he muttered, looking around as though the darkness itself had personally offended him. "I finally get decent sleep and the universe dumps me here?"
He turned slowly in place, but the darkness did not move with him. It remained absolute, unnaturally still. Even sound seemed hesitant to travel.
And then it hit him.
Xing Yue.
She had been there. Under the oak tree. Right before the sky tore open.
"Aiya…" he muttered under his breath, squinting. "Why isn't she here?"
He couldn't be sure she wasn't nearby. After all, in a place this dark, she could be standing inches away and he wouldn't know it.
He coughed experimentally and took a step forward—
Only to nearly collide with something unseen.
He jerked back, rubbing his forehead.
"Aiya!" he grumbled. "Must you be this cruel? At least give us a little light. Even the Emperor would complain about this kind of stupidity."
His voice echoed faintly, swallowed quickly by the void.
And then—
Laughter.
Soft at first.
Then spreading, rippling through the darkness like a melody carried by unseen strings.
Jiang Yunxian froze.
Someone was there.
Someone who had the audacity to laugh.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint the direction, but the sound came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Stupid.
His patience twitched dangerously.
Still, he smiled.
Not because he was amused—but because patience was something he claimed to possess, and he was stubborn enough to maintain the illusion even now.
"Come on," he said lightly, hands behind his back as though chatting with an old acquaintance. "Don't be like this. I'm sure the Star Goddess wouldn't sit still and let you bully her companion? She'll be furious when she arrives."
He said it with complete confidence, like someone who genuinely believed there was always a roof over his head somewhere, no matter how far he fell.
The laughter grew louder.
Warmer.
Mocking.
In his mind, Jiang Yunxian sighed dramatically.
Wow, he thought, my tolerance level is reaching new heights. I should be proud.
He truly was, in a strange way.
Most people would panic.
Most people would shout, demand answers, tremble at the unknown.
But Jiang Yunxian?
He simply stood there, mildly annoyed that the ambiance wasn't better.
Just as he opened his mouth to retaliate—
A voice cut through the darkness.
Sharp. Musical. Masculine.
"Young cultivator," it said, smooth as a plucked lute string. "Are you truly certain you should not worry about yourself?"
Jiang Yunxian tilted his head.
The voice was beautiful—too beautiful. The kind of voice that belonged to performers and poets, dripping with practiced charm.
Which immediately annoyed him.
"Why should I worry?" he replied lazily. "I already told you. When the Star Goddess gets here, you'll regret this."
The voice laughed again.
Longer this time.
Richer.
Every note of it made Jiang Yunxian want to physically snap something.
No wonder I hate musicians, he thought bitterly. Too much sweetness. Makes my teeth hurt.
He resisted the urge to yell.
Patience. Calm. Deep breathing.
He inhaled.
Exhaled.
Very calm.
But inside, irritation simmered.
The darkness seemed to lean closer around him, as though listening.
___
Jiang Yunxian had been standing in that darkness for what felt like an eternity.
In truth, it had been about an hour.
An hour of laughter.
Nothing but laughter.
Not words. Not explanations. Just that rich, musical, infuriating sound spilling endlessly through the void like an overconfident performer refusing to let the stage go silent.
At first, he had tolerated it.
Then he had sighed.
Then he had considered punching the darkness itself.
Eventually, irritation ripened into something else—a slow, crooked smirk tugging at his lips.
If the unseen voice refused to cooperate, then so would he.
So when the laughter rose again, Jiang Yunxian laughed too.
When it paused, he chuckled anyway.
When it resumed, he matched it beat for beat.
There was something deeply satisfying about weaponizing absurdity.
Payback, after all, was a noble cause.
The darkness seemed to shift uneasily around him, as though unaccustomed to being mocked by its own prisoner.
And then, after a long stretch of this ridiculous exchange, the voice finally spoke.
"Don't tell me the young cultivator is angry," it purred, syrupy and amused, each word dripping with theatrical delight.
Inside, Jiang Yunxian thought: So you know I'm annoyed? Good. Suffer.
On the outside, he simply sighed, long and dramatic.
Silence followed.
Then the voice continued, smoother than ever.
"You appear very confident that the Star Goddess will save you. Aren't you placing too much hope in her?"
Jiang Yunxian folded his arms.
"I'm mortal," he replied casually. "She's immortal. Seems like a fair arrangement."
He knew where this was going.
He knew the game.
This wasn't about curiosity—it was about probing, finding cracks.
He had no intention of providing any.
"Aren't you scared?" the voice asked again, softer now.
"Scared?" Jiang Yunxian scoffed lightly. "Why should I be?"
The darkness hummed.
"Your lover seems to be in danger," the voice said delicately. "And yet all you think about is her coming to save you."
Jiang Yunxian blinked.
Then shrugged.
"Well, if she's my lover," he said lazily, "isn't that how this works?"
He stretched, cracking his neck.
"And anyway, we're just two wanderers. Who got stuck in the Loop Forest, fought some red-robed moon nonsense, kept walking. You know—typical travel itinerary."
He said it like he was discussing weather forecasts.
The voice laughed softly.
"Oh? Just wanderers who went through thick and thin together? Fascinating." A pause. "But are you telling me you never met her before?"
Jiang Yunxian tilted his head.
"Haha. Why would you think that?" he said. "A girl falls from heaven, hidden from celestial eyes, and I accidentally break something called the Heaven's Eye. Sounds like coincidence to me."
The darkness grew still.
Then—
"No," the voice said quietly. "You have met her before."
The certainty in those words felt different. Heavier.
Jiang Yunxian's smile faltered just slightly.
"How are you so sure?" he asked lightly, though his tone lost a fraction of its playful edge. "Have you met me before?"
The voice chuckled.
"I've met everyone."
The darkness deepened around him.
"When I say everyone… I mean everyone."
Something in Jiang Yunxian's chest tightened unexpectedly.
He couldn't explain it.
The words themselves weren't threatening.
But they carried weight—a kind of authority that pressed against the edges of his thoughts.
"And you..." He paused not really saying anything, just letting the words hang.
___
The voice lingered in the darkness like music that refused to end.
It was smooth, melodic—every word wrapped in an irritating sweetness that would have been pleasant under normal circumstances. But here, in a void without edges, with no light except the faint suggestion of his own existence, it grated against Jiang Yunxian's nerves like a song played too many times.
He stood still, letting the silence stretch.
His mind, for once, was not wandering.
It was working.
There were only a few beings in existence who could claim to know everyone.
The first was the Heavenly Emperor.
That old tyrant didn't need records or spies. It was said he could know a person's nature simply by their presence, a single sigh enough to distinguish the righteous from the condemned. Status, sin, merit—none of it hidden from his gaze.
The second was the Sovereignty of Ten Arc.
A being second to none, whose dominion over existence itself had once bordered on myth. But that one had vanished long ago. Some chronicles said he entered seclusion. Others whispered he had been erased entirely.
And then—
The last.
The Three Yi Brothers.
Yiwu. Yixiao. Yimeng.
Past. Present. Future.
Three fragments of time that never quite aligned, yet never truly separated.
The Past, heavy and endless, holding every reason for everything that had already happened.
The Present, unpredictable—pretending ignorance while quietly testing every soul that crossed its path.
And the Future… the most irritating of them all—knowing everything from the moment of one's birth to the final breath, yet rarely offering clarity.
If knowledge flowed through hierarchy, it would pass first through the Emperor, then the Sovereignty of Ten Arc… and only then to the Yi Brothers.
Jiang Yunxian rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
The Heavenly Palace would shake if the Emperor himself were standing here.
And the Ten Arc was gone.
Which left only one answer.
He snorted softly.
"So," he said into the darkness, voice dripping with laziness, "the three brothers have decided to mess with me."
The void shifted.
"And you are so confident it would be us?" the voice asked, amused.
Jiang Yunxian yawned loudly.
"No," he corrected, stretching until his back popped. "I'm overconfident. It's definitely you guys."
He stood up straighter now, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves.
The voice began to laugh again—softly at first.
But Jiang Yunxian lifted a finger.
"I advise you not to laugh."
The laughter faltered.
"Oh?" the voice purred. "Are you angry already?"
Jiang Yunxian sighed, long-suffering and theatrical.
"No," he said, placing his hands on his hips. "I'm just worried about your voice. You seem to like singing a lot. Wouldn't want you to strain it."
The darkness paused.
Then came a small, offended humph.
"So mean," the voice complained. "I was merely attempting humor."
"Try less," Jiang Yunxian replied flatly.
The void grew quiet.
For the first time, the laughter didn't return immediately.
Good.
He preferred it this way.
"Tell me," he said finally, tone sharpening slightly. "Why did you bring me here?"
Silence stretched.
Then the voice returned, softer now, almost conspiratorial.
"I'll tell you," it said, "but you must do something for me first."
Jiang Yunxian frowned.
In the darkness, the air changed—subtle but noticeable. It felt as though someone were leaning forward, smiling where he couldn't see.
"What could that possibly be?" he asked, impatience slipping through despite his calm posture.
Somewhere unseen, the Yi Brother—whichever one it was—smirked.
The darkness itself seemed to curl around that expression, amused, expectant.
And Jiang Yunxian realized, with a growing sense of annoyance, that this conversation had shifted from mockery into negotiation.
He hated negotiations.
Especially when he couldn't see the other person's face.
He crossed his arms.
"Well?"
The voice hummed lightly, almost musical again.
"Patience," it said. "You mortals always rush toward answers."
"I'm not rushing," Jiang Yunxian replied. "I'm bored."
Another soft laugh.
"You are strangely calm for someone trapped beyond time."
He said still staring at jiang Yunxian. With the expression of someone who's sure that everything was according to destiny.