Han Wuang Shi walked with a rhythmic silence, eventually reaching the familiar shores of the lake he frequented. In his hand, he carried a few seeds, just as he always did.

  The scenery of that exquisite lake remained unchanged a landscape that felt less natural and more spiritual. In a quiet corner, swaying gently with the soft ripples, a lone swan floated upon the water. It sat amidst a cluster of white water lilies, looking enchanting and serene. But today, it was alone; there was no other companion in sight.

  As was his custom, Han Wuang Shi sat by the edge of the water in a cross-legged position, his form poised and disciplined. He scattered the seeds across the surface, and the swan glided toward him. Though Wuang Shi appeared calm, his eyes remained fixed on the reflections of the trees and flowers dancing upon the water. As the swan quietly ate, Wuang Shi spoke, his voice dry and fractured, as if caught in the depths of his throat.

  "You should find a companion."

  The swan turned its head to look behind, but there was nothing there. Wuang Shi watched the bird as evening clouds began to gather in the sky. Other birds were returning to their nests, and the swan looked up at them helplessly, watching them fly home. A sudden, sharp gust of wind swept through the trees, tearing the blossoms from their branches and casting them onto the lake in a single stroke.

  On the other side, Gu Zong stood as still as a statue. Though he faced north, his feet felt rooted to the spot. He cast a sideways glance in the direction where Han Wuang Shi had gone. He took a step toward the north, then stopped, as if an invisible force were holding him back. It was then that he spotted Han Juan Hao heading toward Wuang Shi, followed by his henchmen the same ones who carried whips in their hands.

  Chaos began to erupt as rumors spread like wildfire: The Lianxiao Clan intends to use a cursed zither to massacre all the disciples. The news reached Master Suo Jing and Grandmaster Kang Jue with terrifying speed. A disciple ran to them, panting, followed by Yung Ke, whose face had turned deathly pale.

  "Grandmaster!" the disciple gasped, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Someone has spread a rumor among the students that the Lianxiao Clan will use a cursed zither. The disciples are in a state of panic; no one wants to continue the competition. They are all fleeing to the outer sectors!"

  Grandmaster Kang Jue looked at Yung Ke, who nodded in grim confirmation. "Unfortunately, Master, it is true. Sensationalism has taken hold. But do not worry, we will find the culprit. First, we must stabilize the students. I will make arrangements."

  After Yung Ke left, Master Suo Jing turned to the Grandmaster in disbelief. "Master, I cannot believe someone would stoop so low. Spreading such a rumor is no minor crime."

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  The Grandmaster remained silent for a moment before speaking. "Hmm... we must be cautious. Whoever is behind this has a hidden motive. We must summon the High Assembly."

  The air grew heavy as the encroaching darkness turned the atmosphere lethal. A horrific reality was unfolding by the lake.

  Han Wuang Shi had been forced to his knees. His sword lay discarded in the water, and a rope was tightened around his neck. Behind him, the sound of whips cracking against his back echoed relentlessly. Han Juan Hao watched with cruel, cold eyes, but Wuang Shi’s expression remained empty. It was as if he had ceased to feel the pain entirely.

  Finally, Han Juan Hao grabbed the whip himself and struck Wuang Shi’s back with all his might. Blood sprayed from Wuang Shi’s nose and mouth.

  "Han Wuang Shi," Juan Hao spoke in a bitter tone. "I did not expect this from you. How dare you read the Sacred Ancient Book without permission? You know the punishment is severe. But why would you listen to me? Since childhood, you have never respected me."

  He paused before continuing. "It would be best for you, Wuang Shi, to stop doing all this for that pathetic Gu Zong. I have forgiven so many of your sins. You should be at my feet, serving as my slave. I spared you only because you are my son otherwise, I would have slaughtered you the day you tried to help Gu Zong’s parents escape. And look at my greatness: even today, after you stole information about the Jiuhuang Yin Zither, I am giving you one last chance. Do not repeat this mistake."

  As Juan Hao turned to leave, a flash of a sword’s tip passed mere inches from his eyes. He stumbled back in shock. At that moment, a wounded Wuang Shi struggled to his feet and waded into the lake to retrieve his sword, his steps heavy and pained due to the deep gashes on his back.

  Juan Hao drew his sword, and his four followers followed suit. But standing before them was the Masked Man.

  "You!" Juan Hao screamed in fury. "Why do you keep interfering? Do you wish to die?"

  The masked man raised his eyes. They were so sharp, so fierce, and burning with such intensity that it seemed his gaze alone could set the world ablaze. He struck with a speed so blinding that his blade became invisible. With a single, precise strike, he sheared through the swords of Han Juan Hao and his four men. The broken blades clattered to the ground.

  Terrified by the sheer power of the strike, the henchmen fled into the woods. Juan Hao, however, attacked with his broken blade. A duel of impossible speed erupted. Steel clashed against steel like flint striking stone. In the heat of the battle, Juan Hao tried to unmask the man, but the masked stranger performed a backflip, landing gracefully out of reach. Not even the tip of Juan Hao's blade could touch the fabric of the mask.

  Nearby, Han Wuang Shi finally retrieved his sword from the lake and walked past the swan. The water of the lake turned a deep crimson with his blood. The swan watched silently as Wuang Shi passed by, his eyes turning blood-red as he limped away.

  Back at the duel, the masked man leaped into the air and vanished. Juan Hao looked around frantically. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, an unseen blade struck Juan Hao's back. He fell to the ground, screaming. He looked for his attacker, but saw no one. Then came another strike, and another, and another in quick succession.

  After the final blow, everything went silent. The rustling of the trees ceased. The wind stopped. Juan Hao lay there, broken and bleeding. His henchmen, who had been watching from behind the trees, rushed out once the danger had passed and carried their fallen master away.