Idon’tknowwhenitbegan,butthere’sasoulinsideme—“anotherme.”

Herevealseverythingwithoutreservation,andwhenheemerges,allofmystrengthisidbare,nothingheldback.

But“he”doesn’tcarrymymemories,nordoIretainhis—unlesswechoosetosharethem.

Thistime,weagreedtoshare.

After“I”defeatedtheTyrannosaurusRex,Iwasinstantlyteleportedbacktothecultivationchamber.Atthesametime,mysoulreturomybody.

Thesteouredmeacupofteaandaskedpolitely,

“YoungMaster,wouldyouliketoproceedwiththesedentrytrial?”

Ieramomentofthought.

“Alright.Letmefinishthisteafirst.”

HestoodbysilentlyasIdrank.Isetdownthecup.

“Delicious.”

“Aslongasyou’repleased,YoungMaster,”thestewardsmiledgently.

“Bytheway,Itaketheformofanyoneyoudesire—butonlyafteryoupleteyourentrytrialsandofficiallybeethediscipleoftheDivineLord.”

“Iuand.”

Sothiswasmeanttotemptmeintofinishirials.Inoddedandasked,

“Then,whatisthesedtrial?”

“Thisosyourprehensionofacultivationteique.Insimpleterms:itgaugesyourtalentandperception.”

Ifroze.

Talent...?That’smyworsttrait.

Hetinued,pullingoutanoldpieceofpart.

“ThisisateiquecalledtheSorSparrowBattleTeique.Itwascreatedbyyourpre—cough,byaseniorcultivator.”

Itookalook.

Theso-called“teique”wasjustatattered,yellowedscrapofpaper,withall.

Yet,strangely,Ifeltasenseofdeepfamiliarity.Withoutthinking,Ireachedouttotouchthepaper.

Suddenly,afloodecharacterssurgedintomymind.Butjustasquickly,theytraomodern,readabletext:

"TheSorSparrowBattleTeique,createdbymyself,isaNinth-TierCultivationArt.

Sinceyoureadthesewords,fatehasbroughtustogether.

Fromnowon,thisteiqueshallbeeyourLife-BoundTeique."

Life-BoundTeique?

What’sthat?

Butnooneexpihewordstiofshacrossthepage