In the clearing of Niuxin Village, which was used for drying grain, a group of militia was training. Gao Zhijian sat on a large stone with knitted brows, watching them practice martial arts. However, his mind was still preoccupied with recent events.
None of my fellow disciples believe what I've told them.
Logically, he should have been angry, but he wasn't. Even he couldn't fully believe his own gradually awakening, chaotic memories.
He was almost certain he was the Emperor. He had memories of living in the Imperial Palace, with countless people at his beck and call, able to obtain whatever he wished.
