The Jade Dew Fountain shimmered in the center of the Northern Pavilion's courtyard, its crystalline water sparkling under the soft, filtered light of the azure sky. To a powerful cultivator, it would be a simple spiritual ornament. To Long Hu, staring at the algae-slicked, moss-covered jade, it was a colossal mockery.
His body protested with every strained movement as he bent, picking up the rough, woven scrubber. His muscles, long atrophied, screamed. He ran a hand over the cold, slick surface of the jade, the spiritual aura emanating from it faint, almost imperceptible to his shattered senses. Yet, it was undeniably *there*, a quiet hum that grated against the emptiness within him.
He began to scrub. The rough fibers chafed against his tender skin, and within minutes, his palms were red, raw. Each upward stroke felt like lifting a boulder. He envisioned the arrogant smirk on Empress Xianxia's face, the detached amusement in her eyes, and a fresh wave of indignant fury fueled his movements. He might not know who he was, but he knew this: he was meant for more than scrubbing algae from a glorified birdbath.
Hours bled into one another. The sun, a distant orb in the Azure Heaven, slowly arched across the sky. His back ached, his arms trembled, and sweat plastered his hair to his brow. He scrubbed, and scrubbed, his gaze fixed on the imperfections of the jade, finding a perverse satisfaction in stripping away the grime.
As his hand moved across a particularly intricate carving—a swirling lotus design at the fountain's base—he felt a faint, almost imperceptible warmth. It was fleeting, like a ghost of a sensation, but it was distinct from the dull ache that was his constant companion. He pressed harder, his fingers tracing the delicate lines. The warmth intensified, a prickle under his skin.
Suddenly, a tiny, almost invisible chip flaked off the jade, revealing a thread-thin vein of pure, vibrant green beneath. It wasn't the dull green of moss, but the electric hue of living jade, humming with a subtle energy that resonated deep within his chest, a flicker of something long dormant.
*What was that?* His amnesiac mind had no context, but instinct screamed that it was important. He kept scrubbing around the exposed vein, carefully avoiding it. The rest of the fountain was just smooth, polished jade. This vein was different. It felt… alive.
From a shadowed archway overlooking the courtyard, Empress Xianxia observed. Master Tian stood beside her, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"He cleans with surprising diligence, Your Majesty," Master Tian remarked, his gaze on the toiling figure. "For one so utterly broken."
Xianxia merely took a sip of her ethereal dew. "He was always stubborn," she mused, her voice soft, "even in his arrogance. A trait that will now serve *my* purpose." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she noted Long Hu's focused attention on a specific part of the fountain. "Let him learn what it means to truly begin from nothing."
Back in the courtyard, Long Hu finally straightened, panting. The main body of the fountain gleamed, reflecting the azure light. His gaze drifted back to the tiny, vibrant green vein he had uncovered. It seemed to pulse faintly, almost as if calling to him. It was a secret, hidden under layers of neglect, found only through painstaking effort.
A raw, primal determination sparked in his gut. He had no memory, no power, no name he recognized. He was a slave to an Empress's whim. But he had found something. A tiny, insignificant secret in a vast, unknown world. And if this was how he had to start, then so be it. He would clean every last speck of dirt, learn every hidden secret, and find a way to reclaim what was lost. The Jade Dew Fountain was only the beginning.