The sky shimmered, a cerulean tapestry stretched taut above a landscape dotted with lofty pavilions, each like the gatehouse to a hidden mountain sanctuary. Yet, the inscriptions upon those gates were veiled in mist, their names elusive, tempting the eye to draw closer, only to fade further into obscurity.

Within one of those pavilions, a woman sat, her presence unnervingly familiar, a ghost of recognition clinging to her form. Her lower lip trembled slightly as she gazed at the sky, lost in contemplation of something unseen.

Who… is she? Who… am I?

A desolate expanse unfolded, the heavens above bruised with twilight. The air itself throbbed with the metallic tang of blood, a silent testament to battles waged and lost. A lone figure, a woman, cleaved through the air, her flight frantic. Her face, ashen with terror, darted glances over her shoulder, pursued by a sorcerer whose eyes gleamed with a cruel and possessive hunger.

In her desperation, her gaze fell upon the land below, where she perceived, half-hidden, the shadow of a man she seemed to recognize…

Who is she? Who is he? And who… am I?

Mist, thick as an endless sea, shrouded a humble cave dwelling. Within, a man sat in lotus position, poised on the precipice of a great transformation, the arcane process of Core Formation.

The woman stood guard outside the cavern mouth, her heart a trapped bird, yet her eyes blazed with unwavering resolve. Before her, a host of cultivators unleashed their powers against the cave’s protective wards, intent on breaking through.

With gritted teeth, she wove and rewove the formations, battling back the encroaching forces until the last dregs of her strength ebbed away. Her knees buckled, but strong arms caught her, enfolding her against a warm and reassuring chest.

“I… will take you to kill!”

The words resonated with the power to rend the very heavens, forging a bond that would bind their destinies together…

Who is she? Who is he? And who… am I?

Again, the boundless azure sky, and the hauntingly familiar, yet strangely alien, sect. Within a pavilion, the woman sat, her fingers dancing across the strings of a zither. The melody that poured forth was heavy with sorrow, its mournful notes weaving through the air. She was to be wed, it seemed, given away like a precious gem.

But as she stepped from the pavilion, steeling herself to face her fate, a man appeared. With power that bent the very fabric of reality, he walked to stand before her.

His gentle smile froze her in place.

She needed to know: Who is he? Who is she? And who… am I?

A shaft of sunlight, warm and golden, illuminated a secluded valley. Within, a wooden cottage exuded an aura of domestic bliss, filled with the lilting strains of cheerful music. The woman sat at her zither, gazing at the man beside her, leaning against him, her eyes filled with tender affection.

She seemed happy… But who is she? Who is that man? And I… who am I?

She strained to recall something, anything, but her mind remained stubbornly blank, lost in a haze of dream and half-remembered sensations…

Then, the idyllic vision shattered. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, revealing a tempestuous sky and the image of the man cradling a woman, tears streaming down his face as he unleashed a primal scream of anguish, a promise forged in the heart of despair!

“Even if the heavens demand your death, I will steal you back!”

Within the opulent Imperial Palace of Dao Gu, in a chamber overflowing with lavish excess, lay a woman on a silken bed. Her beauty was not striking, but possessed a quiet allure. Her face was pale, her eyes sealed shut, her eyelashes fluttering as if caught in the throes of a harrowing dream.

Tears traced paths down her cheeks, staining the pristine pillow beneath her head.

In her slumber, she heard the echo of that earth-shattering roar, a defiance of the heavens, a rebellion against fate, a defiant assertion of will against the very fabric of existence!

The sound brought forth a fresh torrent of tears…

But she could not remember. Who was this woman? Who was the man whose grief tore at her soul? She yearned to remember, yet she did not even know who she was.

In her dreams, she glimpsed the man again, an endless stretch of time passing as he stood beside a sarcophagus, his hand caressing the smooth stone, his face pressed against it. His tenderness wrenched at her heart…

His tears that fell upon the coffin, made her heart ache… She felt an overwhelming urge to open her eyes, to reach out and touch his face, to wipe away the tears that stained his cheeks.

In her struggle, the dream dissolved. The woman vanished, the man disappeared into the swirling mists. Everything became indistinct.

She… opened her eyes.

“You’re awake…” A soothing voice spoke beside her.

Her gaze swept across the intricate carvings adorning the canopy above, her eyes filled with confusion. Fragments of the dream lingered, elusive, just beyond her grasp.

She turned towards the voice, finding a man clad in ceremonial robes, his long hair flowing down his back. Though past his prime, he possessed a striking handsomeness and an air of noble authority. He smiled down at her.

“Who… are you…? Who… am I…?” Her confusion deepened, a sharp pain lancing through her mind, stifling her memories, as if some unseen force prevented her from finding herself.

“I am the Dao Gu Emperor, the supreme ruler of this realm. I am your lord, and you… you are called Song Zhi, of the Shi Gu bloodline. You are… my Empress!” As he spoke, a regal aura emanated from him, asserting his dominance.

“Husband…” The word sparked a sudden image in her mind: a figure roaring defiance at the heavens, consumed by pain.

That figure sat beside her, listening to her play joyous melodies on the zither.

That figure held her close, whispering promises of vengeance in her ear…

That figure… blurred, threatened to merge with the Emperor before her. For a fleeting moment, they did, but the image felt jarring, wrong. They separated again, distinct and separate.

The blinding pain returned, and she closed her eyes, succumbing to the darkness.

“Tell me,” the Emperor said, his voice now laced with steel, “what is the meaning of this?”

“Your Majesty,” a voice replied, hesitant, “the Empress is weakened after the soul merging. Her original soul is intertwined with the remnants of Your Majesty’s soul within her. This has caused the memory distortions you witness.”
The matter was of no consequence, the Emperor declared, for the Empress would recover with rest. Though her memories would remain fractured, this was a blessing in disguise. He, the Emperor, would weave for her a new tapestry of remembrance, thread by silken thread, until his own self became her very history.

“Her mortal coil is most suitable,” a voice rasped, emerging from a ripple in the very fabric of the chamber. An aged figure, cloaked in shadows, knelt before the Emperor. “It will nurture her spirit, and within a few turns of the seasons, the essence of the soul shall be irrevocably bound to this form. Even the true vessel from which it sprang shall be powerless to reclaim it.”

“You may withdraw,” the Emperor commanded, his voice echoing with ancient power.

The aged figure bowed deeply, dissolving into a wisp of smoke, leaving only the Emperor and the slumbering Empress.

He seated himself beside her, a peculiar glint in his eyes. “The Grand Astrologer prophesied that through this lost soul, I shall become the true Emperor, unifying the Three Ancient Clans… his visions are never wrong. By raising her to Empress, I bestow upon her the greatest reward.”

He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her cheek. “She is not beautiful in the conventional sense, yet she possesses a certain charm. I wonder where the Grand Astrologer unearthed her lost soul. He remains silent on the matter…I imagine she was a great beauty in her former life… perhaps she had a love, a partner who mourned her passing…”

A cruel smile played upon his lips. “Alas, he shall never know that she now resides in my grasp. If I could but glimpse his face, see the man she once loved… Perhaps he is already dust. If not, imagine the encounter, should they ever meet again. Would he even recognize her?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Such a spectacle is unlikely to occur.” With a sudden, brutal motion, he pinched her cheek, leaving a dark bruise blossoming on her pale skin.

A shudder ran through her frame, and tears escaped from beneath her closed eyelids, betraying her subconscious pain.

“Were it not for the purity demanded of a future Empress, I would claim her now, make her a woman before the ceremony. But patience. After the coronation, I shall savor the fruits of the merging of souls.” He rose, his robes billowing behind him, and departed the chamber.

As the Empress’s silent tears flowed, far below the Ancient Path, Wang Lin stood, his gaze fixed on the mountain peak. His eyes burned with a cold fire.

The Ancient Clan did not approve of him, nor did he approve of the Ancient Clan. Only Xuan Luo earned his respect.

Without Xuan Luo, he would never have set foot here!

“Three hundred steps…” A shimmering silhouette, a vast celestial being of black and white light, rose behind Wang Lin. Empowered by this ancient presence, Wang Lin took his first step upward.

It was not a single step, but a leap across dozens of treacherous stairs!

He landed upon the thirty-ninth step, and a wave of unimaginable force slammed into him, pinning him beneath the weight of mountains.

Before his eyes, the steps to the summit writhed and twisted, as if imbued with monstrous life.

With a defiant snarl, the celestial silhouette behind Wang Lin flared even brighter, eclipsing the very heavens. He leaped again, hurtling himself forward.

Forty-second, fifty-seventh, sixty-ninth, eighty-third… Deafened by the roaring of the mountain, he pressed on, enduring the crushing pressure, until he stood upon the ninety-ninth step. He raised his right foot, and slammed it down upon the hundredth step!

As his foot struck, the heavens themselves trembled, and the Ancient Path shuddered beneath his weight. The overwhelming power surged forward, striking Wang Lin with the full force of the mountain itself, causing his mind to reel and drawing blood from the corner of his mouth.

This was the power of the mountain, the power of the Ancient Grand Empyrean!