1 Chapter 1: Leaping into Oblivion, Yet the Demonic Heart Holds No Regrets

"Smith, hand over the Spring Autumn Cicada obediently, and I will grant you a swift end!"

"Smith, the fiend, don't think about resisting any longer. Today, we, the righteous factions, have united to break into your den of evil. This place is already ensnared in our trap, and you are bound to meet your doom!"

"Smith, you despicable demon, for the sake of cultivating the Spring Autumn Cicada, you have slain millions. You have committed heinous crimes that are unforgivable and too numerous to record!"

"Demon, three hundred years ago, you humiliated me, took away my innocence, and annihilated my entire family, exterminating my nine clans. From that moment, I have yearned to consume your flesh and drink your blood! Today, I will make you wish for death!!"

...

Smith stood there, his emerald robe tattered and drenched in blood, his hair disheveled. As he surveyed his surroundings, the blood-soaked robe fluttered in the mountain wind, sounding like a battle flag.

Fresh blood oozed from hundreds of wounds on his body. Just by standing there for a short while, a large pool of blood had already formed at his feet.

Enemies surrounded him, and there was no path to survival.

The situation was determined; his death was certain today.

Smith saw through the situation clearly, but even as death loomed, his expression remained unchanged, his demeanor calm.

His gaze was deep and unfathomable, as profound as an ancient well.

The righteous heroes besieging him were either venerable elders of great sects or renowned young prodigies. They surrounded Smith tightly - some were roaring, some sneering, some squinting their eyes in caution, and some were covering their wounds, looking at him fearfully.

They did not attack immediately, wary of Smith's desperate counterattack.

Thus, they stood in a tense standoff for three hours. As the sun set, the afterglow lit up the evening sky on the mountainside, creating a spectacle as brilliant as fire.

The statue-like Smith slowly turned around.

The crowd stirred, taking a collective step back.

At this moment, the gray-white rocks under Smith's feet were stained dark red with blood. His pale face, drained from blood loss, was illuminated by the sunset, adding a fleeting glow.

Looking at the sunset over the mountains, Smith whispered with a smile, "Green mountains at sunset, autumn moon and spring breeze. It's truly like youth turning into old age in an instant; right and wrong, success and failure, all turn to nothing."

As he spoke, memories of his previous life on Earth flashed before his eyes.

He was originally a student from China on Earth, who had traveled through time and space to this world by a twist of fate. After a turbulent journey of three hundred years, ruling and roving for over two hundred years, the five hundred years passed in the blink of an eye, like a fleeting dream.

Deeply buried memories came alive at this moment, vividly replaying before his eyes.

"Ultimately, I have failed," Smith sighed in his heart, somewhat melancholic, yet without regret.

He had foreseen this outcome. When he made his choice, he was prepared for this.

The so-called demonic path meant not cultivating good karma, resorting to killing and arson. Being condemned by heaven and earth, and opposed by the whole world, yet indulging in one's desires.

"If the newly cultivated Spring Autumn Cicada works, in the next life, I shall still choose to be a demon!" Thinking this, Smith couldn't help but burst into loud laughter.

"Old demon, why do you laugh?"

"Be careful, everyone, the demon is about to make a desperate move as death approaches!"

"Quickly hand over the Spring Autumn Cicada!!"

The crowd pressed on, and just at that moment, Smith exploded with a bang.

...

Spring rain gently moistened Qingmao Mountain in silence.

The night had deepened, with a cool breeze mingling with the light rain.

Qingmao Mountain was not dark; from the middle of the mountain to the foot, many faint lights shone like a brilliant strip of light.

These lights came from the high-stilted buildings of the Ancient Moon Clan, not as numerous as a thousand families, but substantial nonetheless.

In the center of the Ancient Moon Clan was a majestic building, brightly lit for the ceremonial rites.

"Ancestors, please bless us. May this year's Awakening Ceremony bring forth many talented youths, adding new blood and hope to our clan," prayed the middle-aged clan leader in a simple white ceremonial robe, kneeling on the brown floor, his body erect, hands clasped, eyes closed in earnest prayer.

He faced a tall black lacquered stand, with three levels holding the ancestral tablets. On either side of the tablets were copper incense burners, from which smoke curled up.

Behind him, more than a

dozen elders, clad in wide white ceremonial robes and holding significant positions within the clan, also knelt in reverence.

After the prayers, the clan leader was the first to bow, spreading his palms on the floor, touching his forehead to the ground with gentle thuds.

The elders behind him, with solemn expressions, followed suit in silence.

For a moment, the ancestral hall echoed with the soft sounds of foreheads touching the floor.

As the ceremony concluded, everyone slowly rose from the floor and quietly exited the solemn hall.

In the corridor, the elders let out a collective sigh of relief, and the atmosphere relaxed slightly.

Discussions began to emerge.

"Time flies indeed; a year has passed in the blink of an eye."

"Last year's Awakening Ceremony feels like it happened just yesterday."

"Tomorrow is this year's Awakening Ceremony. I wonder what new blood will emerge in our clan this year?"

"Alas, I hope we see youths with 'A' grade talents. Our Ancient Moon Clan hasn't seen such geniuses for three years now."

"Indeed, clans like the Bai and Xiong have had prodigies in recent years. Especially Bai Ningbing from the Bai Clan, his talent is terrifying."

At the mention of Bai Ningbing, a look of concern appeared on the elders' faces.

This young man's talent was exceptional. In just two years, he had advanced to a third-stage Gu Master, a prodigy among the younger generation and even a pressure for the older generation.

Given time, he was destined to be a pillar of the Bai Clan, a formidable force in his own right.

"However, there's hope among this year's youths for the Awakening Ceremony."

"Indeed, a young genius has emerged from the Fang lineage. He could speak at three months, walk at four, and at five, he was already composing poetry. Exceptionally intelligent and talented. A pity his parents died early, and he's now under the care of his aunt and uncle."

"Ah, he's precocious and ambitious. In recent years, his compositions like 'Respectful Toast', 'Ode to the Plum Blossom', and 'Jiang City Son' are well-known, truly a prodigy!"

The clan leader, the last to exit the ancestral hall, heard the elders' discussions as he closed the door. He immediately knew they were talking about a youth named Smith.

As the head of the clan, he naturally paid attention to outstanding members, and Smith was one of the most dazzling among the younger generation.

Experience showed that those with extraordinary childhood talents often possessed superior cultivation aptitudes.

"If this child possesses 'A' grade talent, with proper nurturing, he might even rival Bai Ningbing. Even with 'B' grade talent, he is destined to be a standout figure and a banner for the Ancient Moon Clan. However, given his early brilliance, the likelihood of 'B' grade talent is low; he is very likely to be 'A' grade." Thinking this, the clan leader's lips curled into a smile.

He then cleared his throat and addressed the elders, "Everyone, it's getting late. To prepare for tomorrow's Awakening Ceremony, please ensure a good night's rest and maintain your spirits."

The elders were momentarily taken aback at these words, exchanging glances filled with a hint of vigilance.

The clan leader's words were subtle but clear.

Every year, the competition for these talented youths was fierce among the elders, often leading to heated arguments and conflicts.

Indeed, it was time to gather strength for tomorrow's contest, particularly for Smith, who had a high likelihood of possessing 'A' grade talent. As an orphan of the Fang lineage, bringing him into one's faction could ensure its prosperity for a century.

"But let me caution you," the clan leader added sternly, "the competition must be fair and upright. No underhanded methods that could harm the unity of the clan. Please keep this in mind, elders."

"We dare not."

"We will remember this well."

"We take our leave now, clan leader."

With their minds full of thoughts, the elders dispersed one by one.

Soon, the long corridor was deserted. The spring rain and wind blew in through the window, bringing in the fresh, moist air of the mountains.

Standing on the third floor, the clan leader looked out, the entire Ancient Moon Clan visible before him.

Despite the deep night, many houses still had lights on, unlike usual.

Tomorrow's Awakening Ceremony was a matter of personal interest to everyone. An air of excitement and tension enveloped the clan, leaving many restless.

"This is the future hope of our clan," he sighed, seeing the lights reflected in his eyes.

Meanwhile, another pair of clear eyes quietly observed these twinkling lights in the deep night, filled with complex emotions.

"The Ancient Moon Clan, is this five hundred years ago? The Spring Autumn Cicada has indeed worked..." Smith's gaze was deep as he stood by the window, letting the wind and rain hit him.

The Spring

Autumn Cicada's power was to reverse time. Ranked as the seventh among the ten great miraculous Gu, it was extraordinarily powerful.

Simply put, it enabled rebirth.

"Reborn with the help of the Spring Autumn Cicada, I have returned to five hundred years ago," Smith thought, extending his hand and gazing at his young, somewhat pale palm, then slowly clenching it, feeling the reality of this moment.

The sound of raindrops hitting the window pane was in his ears as he slowly closed his eyes, reopening them after a long moment with a sigh: "Five hundred years of experiences, they seem like a dream."

But he knew all too well that this was no dream.

His reawakening in this era meant a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite his destiny and perhaps alter the course of history. The young Smith, with all the memories and wisdom of his past life, stood at a crucial juncture. The future was unwritten, and the paths he could take were numerous.

In this moment of reflection, Smith was aware of the immense possibilities before him. With the knowledge and experiences of five hundred years, he could avoid past mistakes and make choices that would lead him down a different path. Whether he would tread the same road or forge a new one, only time would tell.

The rain continued to fall, whispering secrets of the past and possibilities of the future, as Smith stood there, poised at the threshold of a new beginning.