The city of Liangzhou stood proud.
Vast and majestic, surrounded by ancient blackstone walls that had weathered both time and war, the city pulsed with life.
At dawn, Liangzhou awakened in a chorus of sound and motion.
The central market was a world of its own — a labyrinth of stalls and voices.
Vendors cried out their wares beneath colorful awnings:
"Fresh dumplings, steamed hot!"
"Genuine beast cores — last one from a Fire-Wind Wolf!"
"Spirit-forged daggers! Sharp enough to split stone!"
Children darted between crowds, laughing, clutching candied plums or toy talismans.
Armored mercenaries bartered for healing salves.
A hooded old cultivator sat cross-legged by the roadside, offering talisman readings in exchange for spare coins.
The scent of sizzling meat and incense mingled in the air, carried by the morning breeze.
Further inward, the forge quarters rang with the steady rhythm of hammer on steel.
Sparks danced like fireflies from open smithies, where apprentices wiped sweat from their brows and masters whispered to glowing blades as if coaxing out their spirits.
Towering spires rose in the noble district, each etched with family crests and guardian sigils.
Courtyards bloomed with spirit flora, their petals shimmering faintly under the morning sun.
Servants moved in practiced precision while cultivators in flowing robes meditated beside tranquil ponds.
From above, crimson banners fluttered from watchtowers like the wings of sleeping dragons — motionless for now, but ever ready to rise in defense.
From a distance, Liangzhou looked eternal. Unshakable. Alive.
But beneath the grandeur, a quiet tension simmered.
This was not a city built in peace, but on sacrifice.
Every few decades, the Beast Tide came—hordes of powerful beasts from the Unseen Wilds, crashing against the city like waves upon stone.
Countless lives were lost. Houses burned. Districts fell. Yet every time, the city stood—scarred, but unbeaten.
The people called it the "City of Ten Thousand Defiances."
Others whispered a darker name: "The Waiting Grave."
***
Not far from the outer wall, nestled within an inner mountain ridge, stood the prestigious Heavenly Path Academy—where the brightest young warriors and noble heirs trained to one day defend Liangzhou.
It has produced countless heroes who sacrificed their lives to protect the city.
It was the pride of Liangzhou—the hope of its next generation.
But at that moment, the academy grounds were witnessing something far less noble.
"I'm saying, Lady Shen, that your coldness only makes you more enchanting."
A boy in emerald robes leaned lazily against a willow tree, a charming smile tugging at his lips.
His hair was neat, his face clean, and his posture elegant—the very image of a refined young master.
Unfortunately, the girl in question looked ready to vomit.
"Li Fengyuan," she said sharply, brushing past him, "don't you have anything better to do than follow me around like a stray dog?"
"Oh, I do," he replied smoothly, falling into step beside her. "I'm choosing not to."
Around them, students whispered. Some snickered.
"Look, Young Master Li is at it again."
"Tsk, tsk… Shen Yuyan should just accept him already. Sure, his talent's mediocre, but the Li Clan is one of the great families. It's not a bad deal."
Others rolled their eyes. It wasn't the first time the young master of the Li Clan had made a fool of himself.
In fact, it was a daily routine.
Li Fengyuan didn't seem to care how others perceived him and followed the girl all the way to her seat in the class.
And then it happened.
A sudden jolt — like lightning crashing through his skull. The sun above seemed to blink.
A high-pitched ringing filled his ears. His body froze, eyes wide, the world fading into white.
Memories poured in.
"Argh!"
He stumbled back, clutching his chest.
(What happened?)
He clearly remembered fighting the Demon God, bloodied and on his last leg.
(Did I die?)
That seemed like the only logical conclusion — the last thing he remembered was facing that terrifying existence.
But this wasn't the afterlife… or any kind of void.
"Fengyuan?"
Shen Yuyan's voice came distant, with a touch of concern.
Then the scene sharpened, and before him stood a girl he vaguely remembered.
(Shen Yuyan?)
He looked up, eyes trembling.
(Is this… Heavenly Path Academy?)
Looking around, it was indeed the school he had once attended.
(A dream?)
He wondered, or perhaps just flashes before death. But it was too vivid—too real—to be either.
(Regression?)
That was the only possibility left—and the one he desperately hoped for.
It took only a few moments, but he realized the truth.
This wasn't a dream.
He had truly returned.
Back to when he was fifteen.
He remembered everything.
The fall of Liangzhou.
The betrayal of the noble clans.
His cowardice. Their deaths.
"If I could do it again… I'd protect everything I want."
And now—against fate, against logic—he was back.
A second chance!
***
"Shen Yuyan, you should already agree to the Young Master's proposal. Your clan isn't in any position to defy the Li Clan!"
One of the boys following Li Fengyuan said arrogantly.
Another nodded and added:
"You must see that this is for your own benefit. You should be honored that Young Master Li is interested in you!"
Hearing those words, Shen Yuyan visibly frowned.
Although her clan wasn't a noble family, it didn't mean others could look down on her—or try to force a marriage.
Her resentment toward Li Fengyuan only deepened.
BANG—!
"Dare to say that again?"
The girl beside Shen Yuyan slammed her hand on the table, her expression sharp with anger.
From her dress alone, it was clear she belonged to a powerful noble clan—not someone to be trifled with.
The two boys froze, recognizing her identity. They fell silent, not even daring to meet her eyes.
"Hmph! Cowards!"
The girl muttered.
She was Xiao Mei—Shen Yuyan's friend and the daughter of one of the most powerful noble families in Liangzhou.
"Hey, Li Fengyuan, control your little dogs. Otherwise, not just the dogs but even their master will be beaten by me."
Xiao Mei threatened, her voice ice-cold.
From her tone alone, it was clear the Xiao Clan stood above the Li Clan and she wasn't afraid of him in the slightest.
Still recovering from the flood of memories, Li Fengyuan slowly looked at the two girls before him.
(Xiao Mei…)
Though still in her early teens, she carried herself with noble bearing—the kind born not from arrogance, but from strength and responsibility, totally different from himself.
She wore flowing azure robes trimmed with silver, elegant yet practical—a girl raised in both courtly etiquette and martial discipline.
Long, flowing dark hair with soft waves and warm golden-orange highlights that catch the light. Her hair frames her face gently and flows past her shoulders.
There was grace in the way she stood but also recklessness in her eyes, the kind that dared anyone to challenge her.
She had always been like this.
Fiery! Loyal! Proud!
In his past life, she had stood by him until the very end until her body was torn apart beneath the claws of a beast.
Li Fengyuan's chest tightened.
"I couldn't save her then."
She had died for him—without him being able to do anything for her.
She had risked everything for a man unworthy of her friendship… let alone her love.
But now, she is still alive.
He clenched his fist beneath the desk.
"This time, I'll protect you with everything I got!"
His gaze shifted to Shen Yuyan, standing calmly beside Xiao Mei.
Her long, flowing hair shimmered with soft pink hues under the sunlight, cascading like silk down her back.
Adorned with intricate blossoms and deep blue ribbons, her hairpins glinted faintly, delicate as the spring wind.
Her expression remained composed and distant, lips pressed in a fine line—not a trace of fear, only quiet, cool annoyance.
Hers was the elegance of moonlight reflected on still water—serene, unreachable, and utterly unforgettable.
There was strength in her silence. A quiet defiance in the way she held her head, eyes clear and unflinching.
A gentle girl, with a face like porcelain and steady violet eyes that rarely smiled.
That was Shen Yuyan.
But when she did smile—it was like the petals of winter plum blooming in frost, softening even the harshest parts of the world.
And he—Li Fengyuan—had been the fool who froze that rare warmth with his own arrogance.
Back then, he thought he was merely pursuing her. Showing affection. Giving her the "honor" of his attention as a noble heir.
But in truth?
He had cornered her. Pressured her. Refused to listen.
How many times had she asked him to stop?
How many times had he dismissed it, laughing as if it were a flirtatious game?
Now, seeing the slight crease between her brows, the subtle edge in her posture, and the poised distance in her gaze—he finally understood.
And he knew he deserved it.
But not anymore.
He exhaled slowly, as if releasing years of conceit in one breath.
I know who I love. I know what I want. And I know who I was.
This time, there will be no mistake!