Zhao Zhang, standing nearby, suddenly smiled. "Lord Sui, I practice the sword in my spare time too. After all these years of cultivation, I've reached Second Life. Why not let me try first? Perhaps I'll meet the Sword Cultivation Academy's standards."
Sui Zaihua laughed. "Please, go ahead."
Zhao Zhang straightened his sleeves and strode forward. His steps stiffened mid-stride when he heard the old man instruct someone behind him, "Go and support Lord Zhao."
He could hardly turn back halfway now. Zhao Zhang walked into the field and took the mirror from an attendant. "This... how do I use it?"
"Lord Zhao, simply stand still, look directly into the mirror, and channel True Qi along the patterns on its frame."
Zhao Zhang had not reached Fourth Growth and could not yet channel True Qi into other objects, so he asked a martial artist to activate it for him.
Then Zhao Zhang stood before the mirror with his hands folded, looking into the palm-sized glass before him. The moment his gaze touched its surface, he abruptly fell into a daze. For an instant, he felt as though his soul had left his body, startling him into a backward step.
He immediately shook his head and looked away from the little mirror. Turning back, he meant to give Lord Sui and his colleagues an embarrassed smile, but as his gaze shifted toward them, his face abruptly drained of color, and his entire body froze.
There was no one there.
At some unknown point, night had fallen. A cold moon, autumn trees, and a bleak sky shrouded everything. Apart from the desolate wind and crawling yellow leaves, the Egret-Viewing Terrace was utterly empty.
Zhao Zhang had forgotten what he was doing, too.
He had forgotten who he was and where he was.
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