Ji Wushuang lived up to his name: clear as the sky after a storm, and peerless under heaven.
He made his name young, possessed extraordinary talent, and seemed never to have known a moment of defeat.
Three hundred years ago, with a single sword stroke, he split the Canglan Sea and sealed countless demons beneath the Abyss of Li, ending the centuries-long war between immortals and demons.
Every sect under heaven knew his name. Even the sect leaders addressed him respectfully as Immortal Venerable.
Some admired him, some envied him, some wanted him to live forever, and some wanted him dead the very next day.
But Ji Wushuang cared about none of it.
His eyes held only three disciples, one friend, one immortal mountain, and one long sword.
Many wished to kill Ji Wushuang, but most did not even deserve the chance to get near him.
Yet Ji Wushuang still died, at the hands of his beloved eldest disciple, whom he had raised with care and cherished above all.
A hundred years later, Ji Wushuang awoke in a filthy, cramped woodshed, covered from head to toe in wounds, with every bone and limb aching.
The good news: he was reborn, in the body of a mortal bastard son who had suffered relentless abuse.
The bad news: the boy was skin and bones, with a terrible constitution, little aptitude for cultivation, and no ability to protect himself.
There were two things that mattered.
First, he had to hide who he was. Ji Wushuang had made countless enemies in his life, and until he regained his cultivation, no one could learn his identity.
Second, he had to find his own corpse, if it was still around.
Talk about a twist of fate. Ji Wushuang had only just set out to search for his corpse when he found the beloved disciple who had run him through with a sword, gravely wounded and unconscious by the roadside.
The disciple's first reaction upon waking was to grab Ji Wushuang by the throat and ask him with bloodshot eyes, "Who are you?"
This disciple seemed to have changed.
After Ji Wushuang died, his beloved disciple did two things.
First, the disciple found a thousand-year-old block of black ice and fashioned it into a coffin with his own hands, placing Ji Wushuang's corpse inside. Rumor had it that every night, the disciple climbed into the ice coffin to lie beside Ji Wushuang's corpse.
Second, the disciple imprisoned his junior martial brother, Ji Wushuang's third disciple.
Ji Wushuang touched his nose and sighed, "Your sect sure is a mess."
His disciple: "Just to clarify, the rumors are true."
The innocent junior martial brother: "Does anyone care whether I live or die?"
*
In his previous life, Ji Wushuang had looked down on everyone, with no regard for the world below.
Seated high among the clouds, he watched all living beings sink into desire and struggle in vain, unable to escape the ten miles of worldly pleasures. It was like watching flowers through a fog: he could not understand their obsession.
Now, given another chance, he rolled around in the mortal world and experienced the full range of human emotions and suffering. Only then did he understand the taste of love.
A disciple consumed by obsession, the pursuer * A master who has cast off all feelings, the pursued
Everything may change before the novel begins.
Synopsis posted on August 26, 2025, with a screenshot saved as proof.
Theme: In the depths of death, one can see all living beings.
