Shen Zechuan wandered the peaks of the sect, a cheerful, empty-headed airhead who liked skipping stones and eating dried meat. He was a prodigy, but he possessed no ambition, or had no desires.
After that, he was sent to train outside the sect, and when he returned, he caught a glimpse of Lin Ji'an, not showing much interest at first.
Until one day, he wandered up the winding, overgrown path of the Drunken Peak.
He peeked into the smoky, chaotic kitchen.
Standing at the wok, yelling at a pot of boiling oil, was a raven-black-haired, terrifying, spatula-wielding girl, disguised as a man.
Shen Zechuan stopped.
He stared at her back.
He didn't remember her, didn't remember the Lin Estate, nor did he remember anything about the Earth. He didn't remember pretending to be a System.
But the moment he saw her, the abyssal void in his chest settled.
The strange, restless gravity that had pulled him across the continent finally clicked into place.
