Ten Thousand Futures

Three thousand years ago, there was no such thing as surprising Tianhui. Branch-Sight showed him ten thousand futures before a blade was drawn. He had watched assassinations fail before their killers chose the job, ended wars years before the armies gathered, and survived long enough that even the great sects learned to fear any victory he allowed them to see. Then a hand closed around his wrist. Tianhui had never seen its owner. Every future he had ever trusted ended at that hand. When he wakes again, three thousand years have passed. His cultivation is gone. Eleven of his twelve qi channels are dead. The age that once knew his name survives only in ruins, forbidden records, and stories no two people tell the same way.