The scent of bamboo and wet earth filled Fang Zheng's nostrils as consciousness slowly returned.
His eyes fluttered open. Wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, supporting a thatched roof. Rain pattered against rice paper windows. Everything felt simultaneously foreign and achingly familiar, like a half-remembered dream clawing its way into waking life.
Where...?
He pushed himself upright, wincing at the dull ache in his limbs. The room was sparse—a simple bed, a wooden table, a single chair. Through the window, he glimpsed other stilted bamboo buildings perched on hillsides, their foundations rising above the marshy ground.
Southern Border architecture. He knew this, somehow.
"No," he whispered, pressing his palms against his temples. "This isn't possible."
Fragments of memory crashed over him like waves. A funeral. Gu Yue Qing Shu's funeral. His brother—no, that brother—standing cold and unmoved while everyone else wept. And before that, another life entirely. A life named Lu Yu Fang, reading a web novel late into the night, pages upon pages about a demon who clawed his way toward eternal life, crushing anyone who stood in his path.
Reverend Insanity.
The realization hit like a physical blow. He stumbled to the window, gripping the frame with white knuckles. Outside, the Gu Yue village sprawled across Qing Mao Mountain, exactly as described in those chapters he'd devoured in his previous life.
"I'm Gu Yue Fang Zheng," he breathed. "Fang Yuan's twin brother."
The door creaked open behind him.
He spun around, heart hammering. An elderly man entered, his temples frosted white, dressed in a dignified navy-blue robe. Despite his age, he carried himself with quiet authority—the bearing of someone long accustomed to command.
Patriarch Gu Yue Bo.
"Fang Zheng," the patriarch said gently, closing the door against the rain. "How are you feeling? I know Qing Shu's death has hit you hard. You've been unconscious for two days."
Fang Zheng's throat tightened. He should respond. The original Fang Zheng would have responded. But what could he say? His mind raced, sorting through two lifetimes of memories that didn't quite align, trying to piece together who he was supposed to be in this moment.
The silence stretched.
Gu Yue Bo's expression softened with concern. He pulled the chair closer and sat down with a quiet sigh. "I understand. Sometimes grief steals our words." He gazed at the rain-streaked window. "Ten years ago, another young man stood where you stand now, asking me the same question you haven't yet voiced."
Despite himself, Fang Zheng felt curiosity stir. "What question?"
"What are people living for?" The patriarch's voice was distant, remembering. "That young man was Gu Yue Qing Shu—your team leader, my adopted son. He came to me confused, seeking purpose."
Fang Zheng's chest constricted. He knew this scene. He'd read this scene. But experiencing it, feeling the weight of Qing Shu's absence hanging in the air like smoke, was entirely different from scanning words on a screen.
"What did you tell him?" The question emerged hoarse, uncertain.
Gu Yue Bo smiled sadly. "I told him that from the moment we're born, we're meant to die. We're fragile creatures, Fang Zheng. But there are two things that give meaning to that fragility—love and sacrifice." He reached into his desk drawer, producing a carefully folded letter. "This is what Qing Shu wrote to me afterward. His answer."
The paper felt delicate in Fang Zheng's hands, as if it might crumble at too firm a touch. He unfolded it slowly.
Qing Shu's handwriting was neat, methodical—the script of someone who thought deeply before committing thoughts to paper.
The letter began with confusion, with pain. Questions that had no easy answers, the kind that haunted people in the dark hours before dawn. Then, gradually, an analogy emerged.
A family is like a forest, Qing Shu had written. The old trees shelter the young saplings from wind and rain, from harsh sun and bitter frost. They stand tall, weathering storms that would break lesser growth. And when their time comes, when age and injury finally bring them down, they don't simply vanish. They fall to the forest floor and decay, becoming nutrients that feed the soil, that strengthen the roots of those they once protected. The young trees grow tall on the sacrifices of their elders, and in turn, they will shelter the next generation.
Heaven and earth won't remember us, the letter concluded. But the forest remembers. The family remembers. And as long as the forest stands, we live on in those we protected, in the strength we gave them, in the love that binds one generation to the next.
Tears stung Fang Zheng's eyes before he could stop them. The original Fang Zheng would have wept at this letter. But were these tears his, or the echo of the boy whose body he now inhabited?
What a beautiful lie, Lu Yu Fang thought distantly. What a comforting delusion.
He'd read this novel. He knew what came next. He knew about the wolf tide, about Fang Yuan's ruthless pursuit of power, about how quickly ideals like Qing Shu's crumbled when faced with the brutal reality of this world. Love and sacrifice meant nothing to Rank 6 Gu Immortals who treated mortals like ants. Paradise Earth and Spectral Soul hadn't achieved greatness through nobility—they'd seized it with blood-stained hands.
And yet...
"Thank you, Patriarch." Fang Zheng carefully refolded the letter, wiping his eyes. "This is... Qing Shu was wise beyond his years."
"He was." Gu Yue Bo took the letter back, tucking it away like the treasure it was. "Now rest. The wolf tide still threatens our village, and we need your strength in the days ahead—"
"No."
The patriarch paused, eyebrows rising. "No?"
Fang Zheng straightened, and Lu Yu Fang's consciousness fully settled into place behind his eyes. Two lifetimes of memory crystallized into a single, burning clarity. I'm in Reverend Insanity. I'm Fang Yuan's brother. And I know what's coming.
"I already have my answer," he said quietly, meeting Gu Yue Bo's gaze. "I don't need time to think."
"Oh?" Genuine curiosity colored the old man's voice. "And what answer have you found?"
"Qing Shu's path was noble. But it's not mine." Fang Zheng's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I won't be content being a tree that falls and feeds others. I want to be remembered. I want my name carved into history itself, like Spectral Soul Demon Venerable or Paradise Earth Immortal Venerable."
The room fell silent except for the rain.
Then Gu Yue Bo laughed—a great, booming sound that seemed to shake the bamboo walls. "Ha! Such ambition! You aim for the stars themselves, boy!" He rose from his chair, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and approval. "This is exactly the spirit our clan needs. Young people with fire in their hearts!"
He clapped a hand on Fang Zheng's shoulder, his grip surprisingly strong. "But Fang Zheng, ambition alone won't carry you to such heights. The Venerables you named—they didn't just dream of greatness. They seized it through power, through cunning, through strength of will that bent heaven and earth to their purposes."
"I know." Fang Zheng held his gaze steadily. "I'm prepared to walk that path, whatever it takes."
"Brave words." Gu Yue Bo studied him for a long moment, then reached into his robes. When his hand emerged, it held a green jade token, its surface carved with ancient characters that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. "Then prove them."
Fang Zheng's breath caught. He recognized this token from the novel—access to the clan's secret archives, to the underground Gu worm caves, to knowledge that could accelerate his cultivation by years.
"This token grants you entry to the clan's restricted areas," the patriarch said. "Our historical records, our ancestor's insights, our breeding caves. Everything you need to grow stronger is there." He pressed the token into Fang Zheng's palm. "But this is both an opportunity and a test."
"What test?"
"Reach Rank 3 within two months."
Fang Zheng's stomach dropped. Two months? That was nearly impossible. Most Gu Masters took years to accumulate enough primeval essence to advance. Even with the clan's resources...
"With Qing Shu dead, our younger generation lacks a pillar of strength," Gu Yue Bo continued. "Bai Ning Bing grows stronger in Bai village with every passing day. We need someone who can stand against that threat. If you truly have the ambition you claim, this should be a small hurdle."
It's a trap, Lu Yu Fang realized. He expects me to fail. He's using this to humble me, to bring my feet back to earth so he can mold me into a loyal clan servant.
But Lu Yu Fang had knowledge the patriarch couldn't imagine. He knew which Gu worms would be valuable, which cultivation methods would yield the best results, and most importantly—he knew where Fang Yuan kept his secrets.
"I accept," Fang Zheng said firmly.
Gu Yue Bo smiled. "Excellent. Don't disappoint me, boy. The future of our clan may well rest on shoulders like yours."
After Fang Zheng left, the patriarch stood alone in the bamboo building, moonlight now streaming through the window as the rain finally ceased.
"Spectral Soul and Paradise Earth," he murmured, shaking his head. "The arrogance of youth, to compare oneself to those who shook heaven and earth."
He poured himself a cup of wine, contemplating. The boy had potential—that much was clear. But potential without discipline was dangerous, especially in these troubled times. This test would serve two purposes: if Fang Zheng succeeded, the clan gained a powerful young Gu Master. If he failed, as was far more likely, the humility would temper his wild ambitions into something more useful.
"With Bai Ning Bing in Bai village and Fang Zheng in ours, the stage is set," Gu Yue Bo whispered to the night. "Let's see which of you rises higher, and which of you becomes stepping stones for the other."
He smiled into his cup, already imagining the day when Gu Yue clan would finally unite the three villages under one banner.
The future was uncertain, but it was also full of promise.