Going With Little Brother

Jin Wei yawned and stretched his arms as he got up from the bed, rubbing his eyes before glancing at the brightening sky through the paper-thin window. "Brother, I'm going to take a bath. Work starts early today," he said with a small, sleepy smile. Jin Xuanji looked at him, and his eyes instinctively wandered to the faint knife scar across Jin Wei's chin. That mark. That thin, ugly line was not a birth scar or something from childhood mischief. It was the reminder of cruelty. Of bullying. Of how his little brother had suffered in silence.

Jin Xuanji remembered exactly how it happened. One of the bar workers, a man named Luo Gan, had gotten drunk and accused Jin Wei of short-changing him. Jin Wei didn't fight back, didn't even argue. He took the blade to the chin and kept working the next day like nothing had happened. Jin Xuanji, in that old timeline, remembered wanting to scream. Wanting to punch that man in the face. But he didn't. Because he was weak. He didn't have inner energy, didn't have strength, didn't have anything. So he stayed quiet.

But now, things were different. Now he had lived a life. A long one. A powerful one. And although he had returned to the body of his 16-year-old self, he wasn't the same boy anymore. He was Jin Xuanji, the man who once stood at the peak of cultivation.

Still, he didn't mention the knife scar. He watched his little brother walk toward the old bathroom of their tiny house, the wooden floor creaking beneath his bare feet. The door shut with a familiar click, and Jin Xuanji exhaled slowly.

'I achieved near immortality,' he thought to himself as he crossed his legs and sat on the bamboo mat in the center of the room. 'I should be able to crush every man in this city. If not with strength, then with skill. With my soul alone I can shake a mountain.'

He began to meditate. He focused inward, as he had done countless times in his future life. But suddenly, his eyes shot open. His expression froze. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

'Where is it?' he thought, frantically scanning his dantian. 'My inner sea. My spirit essence. My energy pool. It's... gone. It's all gone.'

It was as if a hurricane had swept clean the mansion he had built over decades. His countless years of cultivation. The celestial techniques. The dao comprehension. All of it vanished. Gone. His body felt light, soft, weak. Not even the energy of an average civilian pulsed inside him.

'So it's really back to zero... No. Negative zero. I'm weaker than weak. I'm nothing but a mortal in a child's body.'

But even as that realization sank in, he didn't panic. He didn't cry or scream. Instead, a thin smile grew on his face.

'But I've lived. I've fought. I've killed. I've loved. I've lost. I've survived wars and climbed to heights no one thought possible. I have experience. And with that, I'll change everything.'

The door creaked open again. Jin Wei stepped out, drying his damp hair with a thin towel. He wore a clean, crisp white robe with cyan blue inner lining. On the left side of his chest was a small emblem — the Long Bar's symbol.

"Brother?" Jin Wei blinked at him. "Are you okay?"

Jin Xuanji nodded. "I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"You always think too much," Jin Wei said with a laugh. "Anyway, I need to go now."

"Wait," Jin Xuanji said. "Can I come with you?"

Jin Wei paused, surprised. "You want to come to the bar?"

"Yes."

Jin Wei scratched his head, clearly unsure. "I mean, you can… but not dressed like that."

Jin Xuanji glanced down and realized what he was wearing — a green-white shan that was stained, wrinkled, and hadn't been washed in at least five days. His pants were black, faded, and had holes near the knees.

"It's fine," Jin Wei said, walking over. "You can borrow one of mine."

They moved to the wooden wardrobe on the other side of the room. Inside were a few neatly folded clothes. Three robes. Seven shirts. Three pairs of pants. Jin Xuanji looked carefully and selected a plain white robe, paired with a black shirt underneath and matching black pants.

Although both brothers now wore white robes, the difference in design, in posture, in the aura surrounding them made them appear vastly different. Jin Wei looked like a diligent young worker. Jin Xuanji looked like something quietly simmering beneath the surface.

As they stepped out of their small house, sunlight filtered through the narrow streets of their humble district. Houses stood shoulder to shoulder, wooden walls leaning slightly with age, children playing in the dirt, old men sipping tea and mumbling about politics.

Jin Xuanji glanced to his side. His little brother walked just half a step ahead, humming a soft tune under his breath. The same tune he used to hum back then.

'I still can't believe this,' Jin Xuanji thought. 'He's alive. He's breathing. And I'm walking beside him.'

In the past timeline, Jin Xuanji used to avoid going out with his brother. Not out of shame, but out of fear. Fear that someone would hurt Jin Wei in front of him and he wouldn't be able to stop it. But now?

He didn't care. He had no inner energy, No techniques, No tools, But he had knowledge. He had hatred, and he had purpose.