Birth of the Fated

The spring wind breeze through the night by the River of Reminisce.

Light rain continues to pour down with the breeze of wind.

The sounds of rain and wind gradually become stronger, leaving behind its sweet melody, and into a thunderous one.

There were no buildings or people around the River of Reminisce. Only lit-up lanterns could be seen flowing down the river.

It was a beautiful, tranquil, and remorseful sight to behold. The combination of the three was enough to be one's final wish before leaving the world.

This river was filled with happiness, sadness, love, and regrets. Every year, there would be countless people who come to this very river.

Some come to watch the view for enjoyment.

Some come to spend their time with their family.

Some come to remind themselves of the past.

And some come to let their lanterns flow down the endless river.

When a person dies, they become a part of our memories, a part of the past. No matter how significant or insignificant they may have been in our lives, eventually, all will return to dust. That dust will eventually fade into nothingness, even the greatest achievements of mankind are not immune to this fate.

There was once an old man who was on his deathbed. As he lay there, he asked his son to bring his self-made crimson lantern and set it afloat down the river.

That night, the son took the lantern to the river and let it drift downstream. In the darkness, a faint light could be seen slowly moving through the water.

As time passed, the light grew brighter and brighter, until an ethereal image appeared atop the crimson lantern.

The image filled the sky and drew the attention of many villagers, who gathered on the riverbank to watch.

The image played out for hours, depicting countless scenes and evoking strong emotions in those who witnessed it. When the lantern's light finally faded, the villagers were left with memories of the old man's lantern and the feelings it had stirred within them.

From that day on, many followed in the old man's footsteps and sent their own lanterns, filled with memories, down the river.

As the years went by, the lantern-sending tradition became a way for people to remind themselves of the past.

Thus, the River of Reminisce was born.

As the fierce thunderstorm raged on, dark clouds filled the sky and the wind grew more violent. The trees and other surroundings around the river swayed in the strong gusts as if caught in a never-ending dance.

The sky was completely engulfed by dark, foreboding clouds that seemed to press down upon the earth. The wind howled and raged, tearing through the landscape with ferocity.

Trees bent and swayed under its force, their branches tossing and turning wildly. The rain pounded against the ground, creating a cacophony of sound that echoed through the air. Lightning lit up the sky in bright flashes, illuminating the stormy scene with brief bursts of light. It was a wild and tumultuous night.

Amid the chaotic storm, two lotus flowers stood out in the midst of the turbulent river. One was pitch black, like a serpent, while the other was a bright crimson, blending in with the other lanterns that flowed downstream.

As the wind and rain battered the flowers, there was no sign of damage to them, in fact, they were glowing even brighter than the lanterns now.

The two lotuses were originally both by each other, but now, because of the storm, they have drifted apart from each other--going in the opposite direction.

There was a sphere of bubble atop the two lotus, and inside the bubble was a little baby. They two were enveloped and protected from the violent weather as the lotus carried them away.

Soon, the crimson lotus escaped the harsh weather, and drift into the territory of a famous sect. By now, the sun has risen up and many people had already left their rooms.

As the bubble surrounding the lotus broke, a small, sleepy baby was revealed, lying atop the flower. The lotus had washed up onto land, surrounded by cherry blossom trees whose colorful branches seemed to sway invitingly as if beckoning someone to come closer. The birds sang louder than usual, adding to the sense of peace and serenity in the scene.

A woman slowly emerges from the forest, guided by a flock of birds, to the crimson lotus. Noticing the foreign object, the woman bent down and found the sleepy baby.

She smiled and gently picked up the baby, holding it in her embrace. Her face was as gentle as it could be.

Walking out of the forest, she pondered, "Was this how my master felt when she picked me up?"

.....

The storm continues to rage on bringing the black lotus along with it.

Unlike the crimson lotus, the black lotus was forced to face many obstacles.

Vicious winds and rain hit it harshly, but it did not give up. It continued to be pushed and pulled by the raging currents, and eventually, it arrived at a place filled with loud noises.

Sounds of metal clashings

The black lotus was washed into a bloody battle. There were many lifeless corpses laying around, some were still intact, but others weren't so fortunate. Many of the bodies had at least one of their limb missing, with blood flowing out like a fountain.

There were two groups of people fighting each other. On one side, they all wore pitch-black cloaks that covered their entire body. The black figures all have a symbol of a serpent on the side of their exposed neck.

On the other side, there was a group of righteous cultivators. They were clad in a suit of white armor that signified their strength.

The unknown group looked around them and quickly made the decision to leave before the situation escalate even worse. Their loss has been too great already, originally, they came here with over 200 people, but now, only 50 remain.

The situation from the righteous sect wasn't so great either. They were ambushed along their way home back to the clan. From a normal trip with over 300 people to a short amount of 70 in just a span of an hour.

At this moment, the bamboo forest was dyed red, and everywhere lay a bloody body that was either decapitated or scarred to the point that it was unrecognizable.

The rain continued to pour down heavily, washing away all the blood.

Cultivators may seem different from ordinary humans, but in the end, they too will succumb to death. In a world where the strong rule while the weak coward--this was inevitable.

A cruel reality yet also a charming one. The weak exist because of the strong, and the strong exist because of the weak.

Despite the brutality of this reality, cultivators strive to become strong in order to survive and thrive. They push themselves to their limits, training and practicing to unlock their innate abilities and harness the power of the elements.

Some seek strength for personal gain, while others seek it to protect the ones they love or to bring justice to the world.

But strength is not the only measure of a cultivator's worth. Wisdom, compassion, and integrity also play a vital role in their journey.

A cultivator who possesses these qualities is not only powerful but also respected and admired by others.

As cultivators continue to grow and evolve, they must also confront their own mortality and the impermanence of the world. They may achieve great feats and leave a lasting impact, but eventually, they too will fade away like all living things.

However, many cultivators share a common goal: the pursuit of immortality. They believe that by achieving this, they can transcend their own mortality and exist forever in harmony with the world.

The path to immortality is long and treacherous, and only a few have the determination and strength to see it through to the end. But for those who seek it, the reward of eternal life is worth the sacrifice and effort.

In the eyes of Zhu Yichen, the leader of the group, this event was bound to happen one day, thus he was already mentally prepared. But the rest of the Zhu clan wasn't so good; after all, the deaths of their clanmates weren't something one could just accept. There were people grieving, unconscious, scared, and dead. Even the great leader, Zhu Yichen, whom the whole clan looked up to, was no exception. But how could he show that side when they were like this?

As the leader of the renowned Zhu clan, he must set an example for others. Even though he was in deep agony, he had no choice but to bury deep down his heart. This was the duty of a leader to the followers.

"Alas, the battle is over. We'll rest for a bit and continue the journey back to our clan."

After he finished the announcement, he noticed something in the corner of his eye.

A black lotus.

In the midst of the rainy night, there stood a black lotus that was firmly rooted in the middle of the battlefield. Yet, there was no harm to it at all, instead, it seemed to be even more enchanting than when it was in the river.

Zhu Yichen held up his guard as he slowly approaches the lotus. The ground around it was in perfect condition as if the fight never happened. But this made him even warier.

It wasn't the ground that made him like this, but the grass surrounding the lotus.

It was dull and lifeless. Not a speck of greenness was left in the plants. The bamboo was no exception, with the rain washing off its bloodstain, it revealed its lifelessness.

But, Zhu Yichen no longer paid attention to it after seeing the content atop the lotus. A sleeping newborn baby laying there without a care for the world.

"Since this baby is unaffected by it, then..."

He gently scoops up the baby into his arm and retreats to his clan while keeping his eyes on the black lotus.

At that moment, the lotus rises into the air, inch by inch. Zhu Yichen was prepared to defend against the attack. But it never came.

Instead, the black lotus compressed itself into specks of dust that slowly flowed into the baby's body. Even with his barrier up, the clouds of dust were able to easily pass through and enter the being in his arm.

"Clan Leader, what was that?!"

"I don't know either, however... It seemed like we've gained another family member..."