The Aurora of Memory

Jiguang grew lax in his cultivation. With Cisheng gone, he lost his purpose. He spent his days drowning in alcohol, and the already reclusive man vanished from the sect entirely. Clutching the token he'd received upon first joining, he wallowed in memories of the past.

He was originally a direct descendant of a major clan from a transit universe situated between the 'Heavenly Dao' and 'Chaos' universes. This universe, located between the two great powers, served as a trade hub.

Over time, its inhabitants intermingled with residents from both the 'Heavenly Dao' and 'Chaos' universes, acquiring traits from both. They became one of the few races capable of traveling freely within the 'Chaos' universe.

Jiguang's family had traded for generations, boasting extensive connections. Under the protection of the 'Heavenly Dao', they'd faced little trouble. Most clan members excelled at commerce but neglected cultivation. In Jiguang's memory, the strongest in his family had only reached the True God rank, with the second-strongest cultivation just beginning. As for techniques, they'd basically obtain them from the 'Chaos' or 'Heavenly Dao' universes, keep a copy in the archive, and hurriedly sell the originals. Most clansmen showed no interest; those who came to study them were all outsiders.

Jiguang was mischievous by nature and the apple of his clan's eye, spoiled rotten. He'd never suffered any hardship since childhood and was incredibly willful!

He went out to play as usual and spotted a peer around his age emerging from a transmission channel connected to the 'Chaos' universe. Finding it interesting, he figured if someone his age could go, he should be fine too. So he quietly sneaked near the channel and, while his minding clansmen were distracted, leaped into it.

A wave of dizziness hit him.

His vision swam. He slowly opened his eyes. Having passed out in the transmission channel, he'd landed in a completely unknown place. One thing was certain: this wasn't his clan's home universe.

In young Jiguang's understanding, the 'Chaos' universe shouldn't be too vast. If his family discovered he was missing, they'd surely find him quickly. So he wasn't overly panicked. Grinning, he began to explore. But he was deep in the mountains, where towering peaks blocked the sky. After just a few steps, he was lost. Releasing his spiritual sense to probe, he found nothing but trees for hundreds, even thousands, of miles—endless expanses of green.

The young Jiguang grew somewhat anxious, but his confidence remained unshaken. Relying on books about the 'Chaos' universe he'd read before, he kept walking in one direction.

He crossed one mountain, then another. Finally spotting some light, he found it was merely a gap in the canopy. There were no human footprints along the way, not even the ashes of a campfire. Releasing his spiritual sense again brought utter despair: beyond these mountains were more mountains, an unbroken chain with no end in sight.

Jiguang didn't lose heart. Summoning his courage, he pressed on. Soon, darkness fell, and he still hadn't found any settlement. The mountain forest was pitch black, with occasional wolf howls and tiger roars. Things always seemed to creak around him, as if something was watching.

Jiguang hurriedly recalled the book's contents and tried to start a fire. The first attempt failed. The second produced some sparks but also failed. After several tries, he barely managed a tiny flame. Before he could rejoice, a chilling wind blew through, undoing all his half-night's effort.

Stubborn, Jiguang was about to try again when a sudden sense of danger struck. He immediately scrambled up a tree. Moments later, a wolf pack passed right where he had been. They caught his scent, searched the area repeatedly, but left in frustration when they found nothing. Fearing they might lie in wait, Jiguang endured a torturous night in the tree.

At the first light of dawn, Jiguang stealthily descended. Tiptoeing quietly, he swiftly ran in the opposite direction the wolf pack had gone.

Sure enough, he had just left when wolves emerged from the very route he was about to take, chasing after him in the direction he fled.

Jiguang heard the abnormal sounds from behind and instinctively quickened his pace, trying to shake them off. But no matter how much he sped up, the wolf pack behind him relentlessly gave chase.

He accidentally tripped over a tree branch. Frantically trying to get up, he managed to push himself off the ground only for his hand to slip, causing him to fall again. Hearing the wolves' sounds drawing nearer, Jiguang grew increasingly desperate. He was finally about to stand when his ankle got caught.

In the heat of the moment, he forcibly twisted free, wrenching his foot out, then directly tumbled down a steep slope. His body was battered and bruised, but the distance to the wolves only decreased. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his right arm—as if he'd hit a stone—followed immediately by a sensation of weightlessness spreading through his entire body. He had rolled off a cliff edge and was now plummeting.

He hit the ground with a heavy thud. Several ribs were broken, his spine was dislocated, his left humerus was fractured, and his right ulna was broken with a cracked radius. His left femur and wrist bones were shattered, and his right tibia and fibula were completely pulverized. Fortunately, his life was tenacious, clinging to survival by a thread.

The excruciating pain caused him to black out several times, but his fear of the wolf pack forced him to endure the agony and crawl forward.

Leaning against a tree, utterly exhausted, Jiguang was now clinging to life solely by his will to survive and the system within his body. His breathing grew fainter, his eyelids heavier. Just as they were about to shut for good, a blurry human figure appeared before his eyes.

When he woke again, he was indoors. A woman dressed in white with pink hair noticed him and rushed to his side.

"Where... where is this? Am I dead?" Jiguang couldn't feel his own body.

"No, your injuries were just too severe. The medicine we used was incredibly potent. The bone-setting process would have been unbearably painful, so we gave you an additional painkiller with minimal side effects. It numbs your body's sensations, so feeling strange is perfectly normal!" The woman smiled, deftly changed Jiguang's dressings, and left.

Jiguang was still young and possessed strong recuperative abilities. Although his cultivation base was completely shattered, he could rebuild it. The real problem was the severity of his injuries, which had directly caused him to lose his memory.

Later, he learned that his savior was the sole disciple of this minor sect's master, Cisheng. On his recommendation, the old dean agreed to let Jiguang stay within the sect.

Jiguang had a positive attitude. He knew he had forgotten something, but he didn't let it bother him. Not long after joining the sect, the sect master decided to hold regular sparring matches and discussions among the disciples to help them improve together.

It was then that Jiguang witnessed Cisheng's true prowess. He made Cisheng his personal goal, training day and night to catch up. He studied all of Cisheng's techniques, even mimicking his habits and style of dress.

Afterwards, he seized every opportunity to challenge Cisheng, but was soundly defeated each time. Even when using identical techniques at the same cultivation level, victory eluded him.

Jiguang attributed it all to his own lack of effort and pushed himself even harder, neglecting food and sleep.

Finally, the sect master couldn't stand by any longer. During a scripture lecture, he subtly guided Jiguang, telling him that mere imitation would always fall short. Techniques, habits... even copying every single aspect of another person perfectly was ultimately futile.

People's experiences are inevitably different, and thus their insights differ as well. Throughout history, no peerless powerhouse has ever reached the pinnacle of the Great Dao solely by imitating their predecessors. Even if they learned from others at the very beginning, the path beyond was one they had to forge themselves!

You must understand: only what is created from your own realizations, tailored to your unique characteristics, and constantly refined by your own hand is truly worthwhile. This doesn't mean isolating yourself, however. The correct path is to spar with others, exchange ideas, learn from each other, and adopt others' strengths to compensate for your own weaknesses!

Jiguang seemed to ponder this, but it appeared none of the latter advice stuck. He still secluded himself daily, focused on his intensive solitary study. In subsequent sparring sessions, he practically only ever competed with Cisheng, paying no mind to the other disciples.

Five years after Jiguang joined, the sect was officially named the "Sub-Institute."

Afterwards, Jiguang's family endured countless hardships to find the Sub-Institute. Jiguang's younger brother, also a martial arts fanatic, wanted to spar with Cisheng the moment he arrived. He never got to see Cisheng, however; instead, he was first taught a lesson by Jiguang. It was then that his parents recognized him, though they also learned from the old dean that Jiguang had lost his memory.

Seeing that Jiguang's current life was happy—he had a caring senior brother and a doting senior sister—and reflecting on their own failures, they chose not to disrupt his present peace. So, when Jiguang's younger brother wanted to reveal their identities, they stopped him. Then, Jiguang's father personally stepped forward to spar with him. After pointing out his flaws, he led the family away.

Watching his father's retreating back, Jiguang felt a strange sting in his nose, though he didn't know why. Perhaps it was from being so thoroughly beaten by someone other than Cisheng.

After this, Jiguang cultivated even more diligently. As for others' advice, his attitude remained unchanged: if they pointed something out, he'd correct it; if they didn't speak up, he wouldn't ask; if challenged to spar, he'd accept; if no one did, he'd stubbornly keep at it with Cisheng.

Later, when entry-level ranking trials were introduced, he went straight for the most difficult challenge and acted as an NPC there. He encountered all kinds of disciples, some stronger, some weaker, but not a single batch satisfied him. If he later ran into them within the sect, he wouldn't recognize them at all.

It wasn't until he overheard a junior sister complaining about being teased by an uninitiated disciple in the trial grounds that his interest was piqued. He decided to play a trick on them. He found that while the average skill of these disciples was middling, their teamwork was excellent. Even he was momentarily caught off guard by the coordinated surprise attacks from a few youngsters when he revealed himself. Though insignificant compared to him, this batch was the most satisfying he'd seen. He was certain that, given time, they would grow into monstrous talents.

However, in recent years, things hadn't been peaceful. Several incidents kept befalling new disciples when they went out, and his senior sister had even narrowly escaped harm.

Later, the death of a highly promising disciple triggered a series of butterfly effects, indirectly leading to Senior Brother Cisheng's complete disappearance. It was also after this that he learned of his own origins from the short sword Cisheng had given him. He wanted to return, but now was not the time.

Sitting under the same tree where Cisheng had first found him, he took a swig from his wine flask, sighed, then stood up. Shaking off his lethargy, he decided to shoulder part of his senior brother's responsibilities.