The air still smelled like blood.
Mu Yihan crouched beside one of the corpses, fingers brushing the cold dirt. A clean cut. Sharp. No hesitation.
He didn't speak.
There was nothing to say.
His spiritual sense swept the area again, just to be sure.
No one was around.
No victim.
No girl.
Just the silence of the forest and a bunch of dead bandits who looked like they never saw it coming.
Strange.
This wasn't how things were supposed to go.
Mu Yihan stood slowly, back straight, eyes narrowing. He was used to arriving at the right moment — the so-called "Heavenly Fate" always seemed to nudge him into place.
He should've been the one standing over these bodies.
He should've arrived just in time, fought off the attackers, helped the girl to her feet, and received a lifetime's worth of gratitude.
But someone else beat him to it.
And they left without a trace.
Mu Yihan's fists clenched unconsciously. His vision blurred for a second as he thought back to last night — that odd feeling during his meditation, as if something… had been blocked.
Was fate interfered with?
He didn't want to believe it.
But this scene made it hard not to.
In the Lin Clan's eastern courtyard, Shen Qingmei stirred.
Her eyes opened slowly.
For a moment, everything was white. Ceiling. Silk drapes. Lantern light.
Then the memories hit her.
The forest. The screams. That man.
She sat up with a sharp breath, heart pounding.
He hadn't even asked if she was okay.
He didn't check her wounds. No gentle words. No lingering look.
Just blood.
And then he was gone.
It was the coldest act of kindness she'd ever received.
And yet, her thoughts kept returning to it.
His face was still unclear in her mind — like a dream already fading. But the feeling he left behind? That remained. Heavy. Unshakable.
She pulled the covers tighter around herself.
For the first time in years, she felt vulnerable… and intrigued.
Across the estate, Lin Xian sat in silence, eyes scanning an ancient scroll spread across his table.
A broken map. Faded ink. One word circled in red.
Trial.
He already knew what it was.
An inheritance site hidden deep beneath the mountains — one of those legendary places where a Heaven's Chosen would be tested and either rise or die.
Mu Yihan was the name written in the stars.
But Lin Xian was more interested in rewriting stars than reading them.
He tapped the scroll.
"Trial of One," he murmured.
Only one person allowed in. Fated.
But if someone were to go in wearing another's fate…
The idea was dangerous. Risky.
But very, very satisfying.
He leaned back, golden eyes flickering with cold amusement.
There was a reason the system had chosen him. Not for brute force. Not for blind heroism.
But for precision.
Let others fight fate head-on. He'd peel it apart from the shadows.
And the best part?
No one would know.
Not yet.
Mu Yihan returned to the sect at dusk.
He didn't speak to anyone.
Not even his uncle, who had arranged the escort mission.
He simply locked himself in his quarters and sat quietly in meditation, trying to catch hold of something — anything — that could explain the disturbance in his fate.
But the thread was gone.
Like it had been severed and tied elsewhere.
He opened his eyes slowly.
A single thought echoed in his mind:
"Who?"
And somewhere far away, in a quiet courtyard behind the Lin Clan estate, a raven landed softly on a branch and stared at Lin Xian through the open window.
Lin Xian met its gaze.
He didn't smile. He didn't frown.
He simply poured another cup of tea.
And waited.