A hallowed, divine stillness permeated every corner of the realm. There was no noise; it felt as though even the birds and nature itself were immersed in a state of spiritual meditation.

  Mo Yan and Yu Sui followed the disciple through tranquil gardens and past shimmering lakes. Under the soft, ethereal glow of crystal lanterns, they walked until a massive stone structure loomed before them. It was an ancient library pavilion a place heavy with the scent of time and untold secrets. Within, books were arranged in an intricate, disciplined system that defied the chaos of the outside world.

  As they stepped inside, they were greeted by a grand hall of immense proportions. At its center sat a large table, stainless and meticulously prepared. Small white porcelain inkpots were arranged with geometric precision. Around the hall, rows of bookshelves stood like silent sentinels in an orderly peace, as if a great council had just concluded, leaving only a profound silence in its wake.

  Inside those sacred walls stood only three figures: Grandmaster Qinji and her two most trusted disciples.

  Mo Yan and Yu Sui were led directly before her. The disciple who had escorted them offered a deep, respectful bow and silently withdrew. Both young men bowed with profound reverence, and the Grandmaster returned the gesture with a graceful tilt of her head.

  Grandmaster Qinji stood before them clad in silver-blue robes, her snow-white hair swept up in a sophisticated knot. Her eyes and features radiated a glorious dignity. Without a word, she turned toward the towering shelves that reached upward like ancient mountains and retrieved a thick tome wrapped in deep blue silk.

  She took her seat at the table and gestured for them to sit. Throughout the process, the two remained in a state of stunned wonder. As the Grandmaster's disciples exited and pulled the heavy wooden doors shut, an unspoken rule was felt: when the Grandmaster opens the Books of Time, no other soul is permitted to witness what is revealed.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  A heavy silence descended. Grandmaster Qinji took a slow, deliberate breath and opened the book. Her voice, soft yet carrying the weight of centuries-old silence, finally broke the stillness.

  "Let me take you back..." she began. "...to twenty-one years ago."

  As the book opened, the world around them began to shimmer and dissolve. The past started to bloom before their very eyes.

  Flashback: The Xuemo Sect

  Back then, the world was different. It was beautiful. It was peaceful. Nestled between gentle rolling hills and embraced by whispering rivers, the Xuemo Sect had always been a sanctuary of beauty and harmony. Its pristine rivers and breathtaking vistas were its very heartbeat.

  This sect was not renowned for war or politics, but for something far more divine... something that lived in the heart of every soul who remembered it.

  It was famous for its seasons, its pure wisdom, and its most sacred jewel: the Grand Academy, Tao Hua Chuan. Every year, when the peach blossom season arrived, the entire sect transformed into a dream of white and pink. The air became heavy and sweet with fragrance.

  Petals drifted like snowflakes swirling, dancing, clinging to the hair of laughing children, and floating gently upon the still waters of sacred lakes. As far as the eye could see, the hills and valleys were a sea of peach blossoms.

  At the heart of this miracle was the River of Wishes, a slow-moving, holy stream said to reflect the truest essence of the soul to anyone who dared to look into it.

  During this sacred season, lovers from all five realms would journey to Xuemo. They came not to fight, nor to pray in the traditional sense, but to perform an ancient rite that had survived for centuries:

  "If two lovers offer five peach blossoms to the River of Wishes, the river will bless their bond for all eternity."

  On that fateful day, petals fell incessantly from the canopy above. The river carried them toward the horizon until the water's surface was entirely hidden beneath a carpet of flowers. It looked as though a flood of blossoms had descended upon the world. Everywhere, lovers stood hand-in-hand, laughing and whispering, lost in the divine joy of the moment.

  It was not merely a ritual; it was a faith, a promise, a shared dream whispered between two hearts. It was said that the river had a soul of its own. It could see. It could hear. And sometimes... it could choose.

  But then, one day, a shadow fell over the Xuemo Sect, and the paradise of flowers and peace was swallowed by darkness. Everything was lost.