The tavern reeked of cheap wine and cheaper promises. Wei Jianming's trembling hands clutched the jade cup, his once nimble fingers now wrinkled like ancient roots. Fifty-three years had passed since Azure Peak fell. Fifty-three years since he had watched his home burn, his brothers and sisters slaughtered and finally his purpose extinguished.
"Another one, Broken Sword?" The tavern keeper placed a dusty bottle before him. The nickname no longer stung, it had become as much a part of him as the seven faded star-shaped scars across his chest.
"Leave the bottle." Wei's voice rasped, damaged from decades of inhaling toxic spirit herbs to dull his memories of that day.
Cultivators at the nearby tables whispered. Once, they would have stood up to pay their respects in his presence. Once, the name Wei Jianming was full of promise and greatness. Now they merely saw what was a cautionary tale, a Core Resonance cultivator who should have reached Astral Embodiment decades ago.
He poured another drink, feeling the wine's liquid burn down his throat. It did nothing to warm the hollowness inside him. Nothing ever did.
As the wine clouded his senses, the walls of the tavern seemed to shimmer. The bitter herbs he'd consumed earlier were taking effect, bringing the unwelcome clarity of memories he fought daily to suppress. The wine could no longer hold them back and the visions came as they always did.
***
Thunderclouds gathered unnaturally fast over Azure Peak that day. Wei Jianming had been practicing the Sevenfold Azure Star Formation when the first explosions shook the mountain.
"There's been a breach at the southern gate!" A junior disciple burst into the training grounds, blood streaming from a gash across his forehead. "Zhao Moying has returned with an army!"
Wei abandoned his practice, drawing his sword as he rushed toward the commotion. The corridors of the Ascending Azure Sect quickly became rivers of chaos as Disciples were running, elders were shouting commands and there were thunder of combat techniques in the distance.
He spotted her across the courtyard. Yun Lihua, her celestial robes billowing as she directed younger disciples toward the escape tunnels. Their eyes met briefly. He had rehearsed his confession a thousand times, waiting for the perfect moment that never came.
"Lihua!" he called, but his voice was lost in the chaos.
A blinding flash erupted from the main hall. The spiritual formation protecting Azure Peak shattered like glass. The last thing he saw before being thrown from the mountain was Yun Lihua turning toward the explosion, her silhouette consumed by azure flames.
***
The memory shattered as Wei slammed his cup against the table. Several cultivators jumped at the sound, but quickly returned to their conversations when they saw its source. Wei wiped his mouth with a trembling hand, trying to force the visions away. It was then, in that moment of clarity between drunkenness and despair, that he sensed a familiar presence. One he hadn't felt in decades.
"I didn't expect to find you here, Jianming." The voice cut through his drunken vision.
Wei looked up, blinking through watery eyes. Elder Lu Qingmei stood before him, her once vibrant features now weathered, her right arm still twisted from injuries sustained during the fall. She was the last surviving elder of the Ascending Azure Sect.
"Elder Lu." he mumbled, attempting to stand but failing. "This... this disciple greets..."
"Save the formalities." She lowered herself across from him with difficulty. "We've both fallen too far for ceremony."
"Why seek me out after all these years?"
Her eyes hardened. "Zhao Moying has resurfaced."
The name sent an icy chill through Wei's veins, momentarily burning away the fog of alcohol. "Impossible. He would be ancient by now."
"He's found a way to extend his life using the techniques he stole from us." Elder Lu leaned forward. "And he's hunting down the remaining disciples of Azure Peak."
Wei laughed bitterly. "Let him come then. I have nothing left to lose."
"That's where you're wrong." Elder Lu placed a worn jade box on the table. "This belonged to Song Ruoxi."
Wei's hands froze mid-pour. "Ruoxi disappeared before the attack."
"Not disappeared. Taken." Elder Lu pushed the box toward him. "She left this with me for safekeeping, with instructions to give it to you if she didn't return. I've been too ashamed of our sect's failure, of my own failure and only to face you until now."
"What does this have to do with Zhao Moying?"
"Everything." Elder Lu stood with difficulty. "Song Ruoxi discovered something about our sect's Azure Star technique, something Zhao Moying was willing to destroy us to obtain. And I believe she's still alive, Jianming. I believe she's been his prisoner all these years."
Elder Lu departed as quietly as she had arrived, leaving Wei alone with the jade box and questions that had slumbered for half a century. He paid his tab with the last of his spirit stones and stumbled back to his lodgings, the box clutched against his chest as though it might dissolve if he loosened his grip.
Wei sat alone in his squalid room, the jade box open before him. Inside lay a star chart unlike any he had seen before, and a letter in Ruoxi's delicate handwriting.
Jianming, if you're reading this. It means I couldn't tell you in person. The Sevenfold Azure Star Formation isn't just a cultivation technique, it's a key to manipulating the flow of time itself. I've discovered how to activate it, but Zhao suspects my research. If I disappear, this is the reason why. The technique requires sacrifice, each reversal damages the user's meridians permanently. But for you, I think the price would be worth paying. You always looked at Yun Lihua, never noticing me watching you. Perhaps in another time, things might have been different."
Wei's hands trembled as he traced the star chart. Could it be true? Could he return to that day?
The decision crystallized within him. What was left of his broken self to lose? If there was even the slightest chance to save the sect, to save Lihua and to find Ruoxi...
He arranged seven spirit stones in the pattern shown on the chart. Then, following Ruoxi's instructions, he focused his remaining spiritual energy and forced himself to remember that day in perfect detail during the clouds gathering, the first explosions and Yun Lihua's silhouette against azure flames.
Pain erupted along his meridians, flowing backward like rivers reversing course. Blood trickled from his eyes as the room began to distort around him. The seven spirit stones glowed with blinding light, forming connections to the seven points on his chest.
As consciousness began to slip away, Wei Jianming felt the first meridian snap and a memory of his favorite melody vanishing from his mind. The sacrifice had begun.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the ceiling of his room transforming into the night sky above Azure Peak from fifty-three years ago, stars rearranging themselves into a familiar pattern.
He was going back.