Jiang Xuan's POV – Late Morning, South of the Temple Hills
The wind shifted.
It was subtle — no storm clouds, no thunder. But the air grew sharper, like a blade being drawn. Birds took off without warning, the trees stiffening under pressure that hadn't touched them in centuries.
Jiang Xuan stood still in the clearing.
Emei had gone silent beside him.
"It's her," she said simply.
He didn't ask how she knew.
He just nodded once, hand falling naturally to the hilt of the Echo Fang.
---
A few minutes passed.
Then footsteps.
Deliberate.
Measured.
Not sneaking — announcing.
She emerged from the tree line with all the silence of an executioner who didn't need to hide. Her armor was black lacquered bone and leather, trimmed with crimson runes that hadn't faded despite the time.
Her glaive rested against her shoulder like it was an extension of her spine.
And her eyes—
silver like frozen fire—
locked onto him the moment she stepped into the light.
Jiang Xuan's grip tightened slightly.
"Sang Lian."
---
She stopped ten steps away.
Her gaze moved from his face… to the ring on his hand… to the blade on his hip.
Then she did something unexpected:
She laughed.
Short. Sharp.
"You really came back looking like that?" she said.
Jiang Xuan raised an eyebrow. "Disappointed?"
"You used to look like judgment itself," she said, circling him slowly. "Now you look like a tired mortal who can't decide whether to flirt or flee."
He smirked, but said nothing.
Sang Lian stopped behind him. "Draw the blade."
"What for?"
"To see if it still answers you."
---
He didn't turn.
Just spoke calmly.
"If I draw it, someone's going to get hurt."
"That's the point."
He exhaled slowly.
"You always were the violent one."
"And you always liked it," she said, stepping in front of him again. "You said, 'Power without pain is a lie told by cowards.'"
"I say a lot of things," he muttered.
Sang Lian looked at him for a long moment.
Then she stepped back… and stabbed her glaive into the earth between them.
The ground trembled.
Dust rose.
She crossed her arms.
"If you want me to kneel again, you'll have to earn it."
---
Emei's POV – Watching Quietly
She stood just beyond the clearing, arms folded, watching two ancient storms reawaken in human skin.
Sang Lian had once led a thousand bloodborn legions under Shenlian's banner.
Not because she believed in him.
But because she believed in the idea of breaking everything above them.
To her, power was sacred.
And anyone too weak to hold it didn't deserve to be followed.
---
Jiang Xuan's POV
The glaive buzzed faintly. Not with spiritual energy. With memory.
As if it too remembered him.
He looked down at it.
Then at her.
"You're not here to test me," he said. "You're here to decide if I'm worth following."
She didn't answer.
Didn't have to.
Jiang Xuan slowly stepped forward.
But he didn't reach for his sword.
He reached for the glaive.
---
Sang Lian didn't move.
Didn't stop him.
As his fingers brushed the handle, it flared crimson for just a second — like it remembered his grip.
He didn't lift it.
He just let his hand rest there.
"I'm not Shenlian," he said. "Not yet. Maybe never."
The air buzzed.
"But I remember enough to know this — if you point that weapon at me again, I won't hold back."
She grinned, wide and sharp.
"Good."
Then she stepped back.
And dropped to one knee.
----
Sang Lian – Still kneeling
The moment stretched.
Silent. Still.
Jiang Xuan looked down at her — the woman who once led armies in his name. Her glaive still hummed in the earth between them, but her posture had shifted. No longer testing. No longer challenging.
She knelt not to worship…
but to acknowledge.
And that weight was heavier than reverence.
He took a breath.
"You can stand now."
She rose smoothly, wiping dirt from her knee like it was nothing.
"You passed," she said.
"I didn't swing."
"That's why."
---
They sat around a small fire not long after. The sun had begun to dip, golden light slicing through the pines.
Sang Lian leaned her glaive against a tree, arms resting on her knees. Despite her armored presence, she looked relaxed — but her eyes never stopped watching.
Jiang Xuan sipped from his canteen. "You've changed."
She tilted her head. "You haven't."
"I feel like someone else."
"You always did. But deep down?" She smirked. "You're still the same bastard who told the heavens to kneel and meant it."
He didn't deny it.
---
Emei sat a short distance away, silent but attentive. The three of them — two shadows of the past and one who never left it — made a strange picture.
Sang Lian finally broke the quiet.
"The Empire is broken," she said. "The old cities are dead. Temples abandoned or hunted. Some of your court scattered. Others… not so lucky."
He looked at her carefully. "And you've been watching?"
"For years. After the seal, I waited in the north. I felt the moment the Echo Fang reawakened."
Jiang Xuan frowned. "Why didn't you come sooner?"
"You weren't ready," she said. "Power's nothing without will. And you had none."
---
He stared into the flames.
"I'm still not sure I want to be him again."
"You don't have to," she replied. "Just don't run from what's waking inside you."
He looked up.
"Why do you still follow me?"
Sang Lian didn't answer right away. Then she said, "Because the world only changes when something terrible rises. And you, Shenlian… you were the worst thing the heavens ever created."
There was no hatred in her voice.
Just certainty.
---
She reached into her satchel and pulled out a scroll — old, cracked, sealed with a faded emblem.
Jiang Xuan took it and opened it slowly.
A map.
Not of the current cultivation world… but one that had once been carved in blood and flame.
Cities. Sectors. Temples.
All once ruled beneath a single mark: the Demon Crown.
"This was your empire," Sang Lian said. "Five hundred years ago. Some of these places still exist. Most don't. But the land remembers."
He ran his fingers over the faded ink.
And the mark on his neck pulsed.
---
Emei finally spoke.
"If you reclaim even a piece of this… the world will feel it."
Sang Lian nodded. "You won't need to start a war. Just walking into one of these places will be enough. The sky will notice."
He folded the scroll slowly.
"Then we'll start with one."
Sang Lian raised an eyebrow. "Which?"
Jiang Xuan looked up, eyes gleaming faintly in the firelight.
"The place where the gods broke me."
---
Sang Lian's smile returned.
"You remember that?"
"Only a little," he admitted.
"But enough to want it back."
---
That night, as the fire died low, Jiang Xuan lay awake beneath the stars. The weight of the map sat beside him, heavier than it should have been.
He wasn't Shenlian yet.
He didn't know if he ever would be.
But the world was moving again.
And he?
He had just taken command of it.
One follower.
One blade.
One shattered crown.
It was enough to start.
----
End of Chapter 21