In the end, he left his sect and stepped into the Jianghu without telling his elders or his parents.
His account of his life said very little about the era he lived in.
When he did mention it, he used only a few words: people struggling to survive, corpses of the starved strewn everywhere, battlefields like Asura's realm...
The years before he left the mountain must have been his happiest. His writing lingered over them with affection.
Many of the details seemed drawn from memories colored by his imagination, raising the suspicion that he had embellished them, or even made some up.
People were always inclined to make their happiest memories more beautiful.
After all, such memories were precious.
But after he left the mountain, he grew quiet. His writing became brief and direct.
You could see it in the words themselves.
For example: "At eighteen, left the mountain. Tracked an evildoer and fought him in the wild. Ambushed. Fled in haste!"
Or: "At twenty-three, assassinated a rebel leader at the Sea of the End of the World. Struck once, hit the mark, and fled far away! Regretted it too late!"
The force of those final words, "regretted it too late," made the depth of his remorse unmistakable.
What followed explained why he regretted it.
The assassination had succeeded, but he had left traces behind.
The man he killed commanded a powerful faction, and others in his household could still take charge. Following the clues he had left, they eventually found where he came from.
He was out in the world, living freely and settling scores as he pleased.
But because of him, disaster struck his family.
His sect was burned to the ground, and his parents died. His older sister and her husband escaped thanks to their considerable skills,