Lu Chen sat atop Tianyi Peak for three thousand years.
He played against himself and watched the rise and fall of the mortal world, believing he stood above it all. Then one day, after placing the winning piece, he heard an aged sigh from the void: "There's no need to look. You are the piece."
As it turned out, he had carved the board with his own hands, made the rules himself, and set up his own opponent. The one who had trapped him for three thousand years was himself.
He flipped the board, smashed the white pieces, said, "I'm done playing," and turned to descend the mountain.
The world below was nothing like it had been three thousand years ago. The immortal sects exploited mortals under the guise of offerings, while the sects used rules as blades to enslave the people. A hunter's daughter gave him half a roasted sweet potato. The heir to a line of qin cultivators, who had waited three thousand years for him, guarded the remnants of a game with her life. The karma he owed weighed more heavily than the board atop Tianyi Peak.
"Heavenly Yi governs rules; Earthly Yi governs karma." What he had lost in Heavenly Yi all those years ago was more than his memory. He had lost the power to choose: he had willingly abandoned the game of rules and entered the game of karma as a black piece. Every step he had taken over the past three thousand years, every choice, and everyone he had affected would become a piece on the board.
And this time, he would not play alone.
The game may be over, but the endgame is not. The one who breaks the deadlock moves first as black.
