On a desolate island spanning over a hundred li, Zhou Sihong sat cross-legged atop a thousand-zhang cliff, holding a black flute about a chi long in his hand. Its melody was somewhat mournful.
After a while, the flute's tune grew impassioned. The calm sea abruptly exploded, sending waves more than a hundred zhang high crashing into the air.
After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the flute fell silent. Zhou Sihong lowered it and sighed. "More than four thousand years have passed in the blink of an eye. Things remain, but people have changed. If Four Seasons isn't dead, he should be in the Spirit Realm by now! If I can ascend to the Devil Realm, I look forward to sparring with Four Seasons once more."
Back then, Zhou Sihong had been the most promising member of the Great Yan Royal Clan. The founding patriarch of the Taiyi Immortal Sect in the Eastern Wasteland had fought him to a draw; neither had ever been able to defeat the other. Yet their fates were worlds apart. The Sect Master of the Myriad Ghosts Sect opened a spatial passage, allowing the Devil Race to invade. Zhou Sihong was captured by the Devil Race. Unable to endure their brutal torture, he defected to them, used True Devil Qi to temper his body, transformed into one of the Devil Race, and helped them slaughter the cultivators of the Eastern Fence World.
Meanwhile, the Four Seasons Sword Master led the human cultivators in a desperate resistance. He rendered great service in the war between immortals and devils, his fame spreading across the four seas, while the Taiyi Immortal Sect leapt to become the greatest sect in the Eastern Wasteland.
To be honest, Zhou Sihong did not hate the Four Seasons Sword