The morning bell echoed through Cloud Peak Sect.
Its deep, ancient chime rolled across the mountains, stirring the sea of clouds that drifted lazily between emerald peaks.
Outer disciples poured onto the training grounds in neat white robes, wooden swords hanging from their waists. Some yawned. Others chatted excitedly. A few hurried along with breakfast buns clenched between their teeth.
Joshua walked among them in silence.
The laughter from earlier had faded, replaced by curious glances.
"...Is that really Mo Xuanyu?"
"He looks... different."
"He didn't even argue."
"He never argued before."
"True."
"...Still creepy."
Joshua ignored every word.
He wasn't avoiding them.
He simply didn't care.
A disciple blocked his path.
"Mo Xuanyu."
Joshua stopped.
The disciple crossed his arms proudly.
"You skipped yesterday's weapon maintenance."
Joshua looked at him.
"...Did I?"
The disciple frowned.
"You don't remember?"
Joshua answered honestly.
"...No."
The disciple opened his mouth...
Closed it again.
"...You're impossible."
He walked away muttering to himself.
Joshua continued toward the training grounds.
...
Rows of disciples practised synchronised sword forms beneath the morning sun.
Wooden blades sliced through the air in perfect rhythm.
An instructor stood before them.
"Again!"
"Higher stance!"
"Your wrist, Zhao Ming!"
The disciples hurried to correct themselves.
Joshua quietly picked up a practice sword resting beside the rack.
It felt...
Familiar.
His fingers wrapped naturally around the hilt.
"...Interesting."
He stepped to the edge of the field, away from everyone else.
One slow breath.
Then—
He moved.
The wooden sword drew a simple arc through the air.
Nothing flashy.
Nothing powerful.
Just...
Clean.
Every movement flowed into the next without hesitation.
Even Joshua paused afterwards.
"..."
"I've done this before."
Not a memory.
An instinct.
His body knew things his mind did not.
He practised again.
And again.
Never repeating the same mistake twice.
...
On the far side of the training grounds...
A young man lay comfortably across the thick branch of an old maple tree.
One leg dangled lazily.
A blade of grass rested between his lips.
Golden eyes drifted lazily across the disciples below.
"...Boring."
Another senior disciple sitting nearby laughed.
"You've said that every morning this month."
Lucian sighed dramatically.
"Because every morning is the same."
"They swing."
"They miss."
"They get yelled at."
"They swing again."
His friend rolled his eyes.
"Then go train."
"I am."
"...You're lying on a tree."
"I'm training my observation skills."
Before his friend could answer—
Lucian suddenly sat upright.
"Hm?"
His golden eyes narrowed slightly.
Down below...
A lone disciple practised at the edge of the field.
Not remarkable.
Not talented.
Yet...
Something felt...
Off.
Lucian watched another swing.
"...Strange."
His friend followed his gaze.
"Who?"
"The one over there."
"...Mo Xuanyu?"
Lucian blinked.
"That's Mo Xuanyu?"
"You don't know him?"
"I know the name."
His friend snorted.
"Poor talent."
"Poor luck."
"Usually gets bullied."
Lucian continued watching.
"...No."
"Hm?"
"That's not what I mean."
He frowned.
"The way he moves..."
His friend looked again.
"I don't see anything."
Lucian couldn't explain it either.
The sword form wasn't from Cloud Peak.
It wasn't from any sect he recognised.
There was no flourish.
No wasted motion.
It looked...
Old.
Simple.
As though someone had spent a lifetime polishing away everything unnecessary.
"...Weird."
Before he realised it—
Lucian had already jumped from the tree.
His friend called after him.
"Where are you going?"
Lucian waved without looking back.
"No idea."
"...My feet decided before I did."
...
Joshua lowered his sword.
His breathing remained steady.
A shadow fell across the ground before him.
He looked up.
A smiling young man stood there, hands clasped behind his back.
Long golden hair caught the sunlight, almost glowing.
His robes were embroidered with flowing clouds in silver and gold.
A Core Disciple.
Joshua inclined his head politely.
"Senior Brother."
The smile widened.
"Good."
"You know your manners."
Joshua waited.
The senior didn't seem interested in leaving.
Instead, he circled Joshua once.
Then twice.
Like someone inspecting a particularly curious cat.
Joshua remained perfectly still.
Finally...
"...Senior Brother."
"Hm?"
"...Are you lost?"
For a heartbeat—
Silence.
Then the nearby disciples burst into laughter.
Even the instructor coughed into his sleeve to hide a smile.
Lucian blinked twice.
Then laughed harder than anyone.
"Hahaha!"
"Oh, I like you."
Joshua looked genuinely puzzled.
"...For asking if you're lost?"
"No."
Lucian wiped the corner of one eye.
"For saying it with such a serious face."
Joshua considered that.
"...You looked like you were searching for something."
"I was."
"What?"
Lucian stopped smiling for a moment.
His golden eyes met Joshua's.
"...Honestly?"
"I don't know."
Joshua blinked.
"...Then perhaps you are lost."
The laughter returned.
Lucian placed a hand dramatically over his heart.
"Ouch."
"Ghost, you're sharper than your sword."
Joshua frowned slightly.
"...Ghost?"
"I don't know your name yet."
"It's easier."
"...My name is Mo Xuanyu."
Lucian smiled.
"I know."
"I just think Ghost suits you better."
"...Why?"
"You appear out of nowhere."
"You barely talk."
"And your face..."
Lucian leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"...looks like you haven't smiled in three hundred years."
Joshua answered immediately.
"...I'm seventeen."
Lucian froze.
The disciples around them erupted again.
One even had to squat on the ground because he was laughing too hard.
Lucian stared at Joshua.
Then pointed a finger at him.
"...You."
Joshua tilted his head.
"...Me?"
"You did that on purpose."
"I answered your statement."
"You absolutely did it on purpose."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"I didn't."
"You..."
Lucian suddenly laughed again.
This time softer.
"...Interesting."
Joshua quietly returned the wooden sword to the rack.
"If Senior Brother has no further business..."
"I'm leaving."
He turned.
Lucian watched him walk away.
The smile on his face slowly faded.
Something tugged strangely at his chest.
A feeling without shape.
Without reason.
Without memory.
He frowned.
"...Weird."
His friend finally caught up.
"What happened?"
Lucian scratched the back of his head.
"...Nothing."
He glanced toward Joshua's retreating figure.
"...Just..."
He searched for the right words.
None came.
Finally, he laughed at himself.
"...Feels like..."
"...I shouldn't let him disappear."
His friend looked confused.
"You've known him for five minutes."
Lucian smiled helplessly.
"I know."
"That's the strange part."
Ahead, Joshua continued walking without looking back.
Yet for reasons he couldn't explain...
The sound of that carefree laughter lingered in his ears.
And for the briefest moment—
The emptiness inside his chest didn't feel quite so quiet.