Morning came, but the usual energy of the sect wasn't there.
Disciples trained, yes. Elders gave orders. But everything felt… cautious.
As if something heavy sat in the air.
As if everyone was waiting to see what Shen Yi would do next.
He walked through the inner courtyard, eyes calm, steps steady. His robes were clean, his hair tied back, and the crest of the Scarlet Immortal Sect shone clearly on his chest once more.
But the stares never stopped.
Some looked curious.
Others looked scared.
A few — mostly the older disciples — looked angry.
He didn't blame them.
He didn't speak to anyone.
---
On the upper walkway, Yan Xue watched him move from above.
She said nothing. Her face, cold and unreadable, didn't show even a hint of what she felt inside.
Not that she would ever let it.
Su Yao came up beside her, carrying a tray of scrolls.
"You've been up here a while."
Yan Xue didn't take her eyes off Shen Yi. "I wanted to see if he'd fall apart."
Su Yao frowned. "And?"
"He hasn't."
"Are you disappointed?"
Yan Xue didn't answer right away. Then: "I don't know yet."
---
Below, Shen Yi stopped at the old sparring grounds. He remembered none of it — not the stone pillars, not the circular floor, not the tall statues of the founding masters.
But his feet knew where to go.
His body remembered.
He stood in the center, took a deep breath, and began to move.
Slow. Controlled. Silent.
Each motion was like a shadow sliding through smoke — no sound, no wasted strength.
Some disciples stopped to watch.
He didn't notice.
He was too deep in it — not in memory, but in instinct.
Step. Turn. Strike. Flow.
For the first time since he returned… the chaos inside him went quiet.
---
Afterward, he sat alone by the edge of the waterfall.
The sect had many sacred spots, but this one — a ledge overlooking the valley, with mist rising from the water far below — seemed untouched by time.
He liked that.
Su Yao found him there.
She didn't speak right away. She just sat beside him and pulled out a small pouch of dried fruit.
"Hungry?"
"Not really," he said.
"You never are."
He gave a tired smile. "Something wrong with me?"
"Plenty," she said, half-smiling. "But we knew that."
A quiet moment passed.
Then Su Yao asked, "Do you feel anything coming back? Anything familiar?"
He thought about it.
"The buildings. The layout. The way people look at me like I'm cursed. All that feels familiar," he said.
"But?"
"But the people who used to care… I only see the pain in their eyes now. Or fear."
---
In the main hall, the elders gathered.
Elder Han stood before the others, his voice calm, but sharp.
"We've confirmed the signs. His body is not normal. His soul… even less."
"He's dangerous," one elder said.
"Agreed," said another. "The aura around him is not human."
"Should we seal his cultivation?"
Elder Han shook his head. "Not yet."
"Then what?"
"We test him," said the Sect Lord, entering quietly.
All heads turned.
He spoke slowly. "If the boy truly wants redemption… let him earn it."
---
That evening, a silver bell rang through the mountain.
A challenge had been issued.
One of the inner disciples — a strong fighter named Liang Fei — had stepped forward.
He was tall, fast, with a proud temper and a sharp sword.
And he had history with the name Shen Yi.
"He thinks he can come back after five years like nothing happened?" Liang Fei said, loud enough for others to hear. "Let him prove it."
The duel was set for the next morning.
---
Yan Xue heard about it during her meditation session.
She said nothing.
But later, when she walked past the northern training yard, she saw Liang Fei practicing.
He noticed her. Smiled.
"Princess Yan," he said. "Come to cheer for me tomorrow?"
She didn't smile back. "Don't underestimate him."
He laughed. "He's been gone five years. He's weak now. Lost. And I haven't forgotten what he did."
"Neither have I," Yan Xue said.
"But I remember one more thing."
"What's that?"
She looked him in the eye.
"He never loses."
Then she walked away.
---
That night, Shen Yi sat under the stars again.
The night wind was colder up here. But he didn't mind.
It helped him think.
He still didn't know who he was before. What kind of man he had been. What kind of disciple. What kind of monster.
But he knew who he was now.
Someone trying.
Someone tired of running.
And tomorrow, he would have to show it.
Not just to the sect.
But to her.
----
Morning came fast.
The challenge arena near the outer cliffs was already filling with disciples, elders, and curious onlookers. Word of the duel had spread through the sect like wildfire.
Everyone wanted to see what would happen.
Would the forgotten disciple rise?
Or would he fall before even reclaiming his place?
Shen Yi stood at one end of the dueling platform, dressed in simple robes. No armor, no ornament. Just him and a wooden training sword — a choice he had made without hesitation.
He didn't want to kill anyone.
Not anymore.
Across from him, Liang Fei smirked as he adjusted his grip on a gleaming steel blade.
"I heard you forgot everything," he said. "Let me remind you what pain feels like."
Shen Yi didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
---
Su Yao stood beside Elder Han in the viewing stand. Her hands were folded, face calm, but her knuckles were white.
Yan Xue leaned against a pillar nearby, arms crossed, eyes locked on the platform.
She hadn't spoken since arriving.
But her heart beat faster than she liked.
Liang Fei was strong.
Not just in cultivation, but in pride.
And pride had a way of becoming cruel when bruised.
---
The elder overseeing the match raised his hand.
"This is a first-circle sanctioned duel. No killing intent. No spiritual techniques beyond first-tier defense or movement. Victory will be declared by clear suppression or surrender."
Both fighters nodded.
"Begin!"
---
Liang Fei moved first — fast, a blur of steel and anger.
He struck low, then high, twisting mid-step, hoping to catch Shen Yi off balance.
But Shen Yi flowed with the attack, not against it.
His wooden blade flicked up once—tap.
Then again—tap.
Two precise deflections, clean and effortless.
He stepped back, silent, eyes calm.
The crowd murmured.
Liang Fei frowned. "Playing defense?"
He lunged again.
This time harder. Faster.
His blade became a silver arc aimed straight for Shen Yi's neck.
The crowd gasped.
Shen Yi tilted his head, just barely.
The sword passed through air.
Then he moved.
One step in.
A turn of the wrist.
His wooden blade struck Liang Fei's wrist—not hard, but exact.
The sword flew from Liang Fei's hand.
Silence.
---
Liang Fei backed away, stunned. "You—"
Before he could finish, Shen Yi stepped forward and pressed the tip of his wooden sword against the space between Liang Fei's eyes.
He didn't press.
Just held it there.
Liang Fei couldn't move.
He couldn't breathe.
The elder raised a hand. "Victory — Shen Yi."
The crowd erupted.
---
Su Yao let out a long breath. "He held back."
Yan Xue didn't answer.
But her eyes didn't leave him.
Not even when he stepped down from the platform.
Not even when disciples whispered in shock.
---
Later, in a quiet corner of the sect gardens, Shen Yi sat on a bench under a willow tree.
Su Yao joined him.
"You could've humiliated him," she said.
"I didn't want to."
"He would've done it to you."
"That's the difference."
Su Yao watched him for a moment, then said gently, "You're not what I expected."
"I'm not sure what I am," he said. "But I know what I don't want to be."
He looked down at his hands.
"They still feel… wrong."
---
Far above, Yan Xue stood on one of the high balconies overlooking the valley.
A wind blew through her long hair.
She didn't smile.
But she didn't frown either.
A servant stepped beside her. "Do you wish to send a message to your uncle, Princess?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Should I prepare for your departure?"
"No."
"But the Scarlet Sect is not your home."
"I know."
Then she said, almost to herself:
"But maybe his shadow is."
---
That night, Shen Yi walked alone through the outer halls.
He stopped when he reached the edge of the training yard again.
A memory flickered.
Not clear.
Just sound.
Laughter.
Soft.
Warm.
A girl's voice.
His heart skipped.
He looked around.
Empty.
But in his chest, something moved.
Not pain.
Not darkness.
Something like…
Longing.
---
In a quiet hall, the Sect Lord read a letter sealed in black ink.
He frowned.
"So, the girl in the Eastern province is moving again."
Elder Han said, "Shall I inform the others?"
"No," the Sect Lord replied. "Let her move."
"But if she reaches him—"
"She won't."
He folded the letter, burned it with a touch of his finger, and stared out the window.
"Because if she does… it might awaken more than just memory."
-----
End of Chapter 17