He looked toward the distant horizon, toward the towering peaks of the Celestial Sword Sect.
"Must go," the boy whispered, his voice empty but his intention firm. "Must find."
He didn't know who he was looking for, or didn't know why.
He began to walk.
He walked for months and wandered into the sect.
Because his body was forged from the abyss, he possessed terrifying, unpredictable spatial powers that baffled the elders.
They took him in, and the Sect Leader named him Shen Zechuan.
The vision accelerated.
Shen Zechuan wandered the peaks of the sect, a cheerful, empty-headed airhead who liked skipping stones and eating dried meat. He was a prodigy, but he possessed no ambition, or had no desires.
After that, he was sent to train outside the sect, and when he returned, he caught a glimpse of Lin Ji'an, not showing much interest at first.
Until one day, he wandered up the winding, overgrown path of the Drunken Peak.
He peeked into the smoky, chaotic kitchen.
