Scaramouche, now the formidable general of Xianzhou, crossed paths with this unfamiliar figure, a ghost of a memory lingering in his mind. His gaze met yours, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes, yet unable to place your amidst from the shadows of his fragmented memories.

"You..." Scaramouche's voice trailed off, a sense of déjà vu tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He felt an inexplicable connection to this enigmatic person before him, a faint echo of familiarity stirring within him.