As the Heart-Forging Realm dissolved, Xiao Chen stood at the edge of the void, his spirit like one returned from tribulation. When the illusions shattered, his body was damp and cold, as if jolted awake from a long dream. His chest rose and fell, still echoing with the warmth and lingering resonance of the woman's final gaze.
He had once thought it was mere illusion.
But the pain and familiarity in her eyes—
Felt more real than memory itself.
As he steadied his breath, footsteps echoed softly.
The Tower Guide emerged from the mist, his tone calm but tinged with approval:
"You've done well. But you're still one step short."
With a sweep of his sleeve, a bridge of green stone appeared beneath Xiao Chen's feet—winding and narrow, stretching across the void toward a massive floating stone platform in the distance.
Above the platform, the sky seemed veiled in mist.
The air pressed down like a mountain on the heart.
The Tower Guide continued:
"The Three Questions of Fate. Each person faces different questions, different visions.
They are not trials.
There is no right or wrong.
Only the truth of your deepest choice."
Xiao Chen said nothing.
He stepped onto the bridge.
Each step cast shifting shadows across the fractured stone—
As if he were walking into the very weave of destiny.
When he reached the platform, the world shifted.
Illusions rippled like water.
A stone gate slowly rose, etched with a single character: [一].
A stone tablet descended from the void, hovering above the gate.
Light traced across its surface, forming three glowing words:
Fate's Question One.
He drew a deep breath—
And stepped through.
—The First Question.
The world spun.
When he opened his eyes again, everything was bathed in crimson flame.
Beneath his feet was a massive iron cage, forged from blacksteel, suspended above a sea of boiling magma.
The heat surged like a wild beast, licking at the edges of the cage.
The air reeked of scorched metal and flesh.
The cage was split in two.
On one side—
Dozens of terrified civilians: the elderly, women, children.
Their cries rose and fell in waves.
On the other—
A woman in white.
She stood quietly in the firelight—
Like a thread of unburned resolve.
Her eyes held both gentleness and finality.
And in that gaze—
He saw the shadow from his soul.
Two drops of water.
Overlapping.
Clear, yet unreachable.
Xiao Chen's body trembled.
A nameless tremor surged through his heart.
"Choose one side.
The other will fall into the fire—
And be lost forever."
The voice of the Tower Spirit rang out, cold as iron law.
The air froze.
A pair of heavy levers appeared before him—
Red-gold, glowing with heat.
He clenched his fists.
A thousand thoughts surged through his mind.
The civilians were innocent.
How could they not be saved?
But the woman in white—
Why did one glance from her feel like something had gripped his heart?
He knew this was illusion.
Knew that no matter whom he chose, the outcome was already written.
But reason and emotion—
Were two beasts tearing at his soul.
"Do you want to be a hero…
Or do you trust your heart?"
Sweat dripped from his brow, falling onto the scalding lever in his palm.
Beneath the sea of fire, the iron cage began to tilt—
As if the world itself leaned toward his choice.
In that moment, the woman in white looked at him—
And offered a faint smile, one that bordered on pleading.
Xiao Chen clenched his jaw.
Hesitation ended.
He struck the left lever with his palm.
"I… choose her."
Suddenly, the civilians—who had only been able to scream and struggle—
Seemed to break free from some unseen restraint.
Their voices erupted like thunder.
"You chose her?! What about us?!"
"My child is only five… How could you—"
"No! I don't want to die!"
With a deafening roar, the cage holding the woman began to rise—
While the other…
Snapped.
Chains broke.
Metal shattered.
Curses, cries, screams, and sobs pierced his heart like a thousand needles.
Every gaze—
Branded his soul in blood-red light.
Xiao Chen staggered—
But did not look back.
Until the fire swallowed the cage,
And the final screams tore through the sky—
Then faded into silence.
He knew—
These voices would never leave him.
They would live within his fate chart—
A weight he could never cast off.
In choosing love over salvation,
He had chosen to bear the cost.
The heat and anguish vanished into a crimson abyss.
The Tower Spirit's voice returned, low and eerie:
"Your reason?"
Xiao Chen closed his eyes.
After a moment of silence, he whispered:
"I don't know…
But I know—
If I don't choose her now,
I'll regret it later."
The flames receded.
The world shifted once more.
—The Second Question.
The iron cage was gone.
Xiao Chen stood upon the void.
Around him, countless shattered fragments of fate emerged—
Children crying as famine consumed them.
Battlefields strewn with corpses.
People surviving under tyranny.
Immortals and gods gazing down with cold indifference.
Above him, a golden light condensed into the Tower Spirit's phantom.
Its voice fell like divine decree:
"If you possessed the power of a god—
What would you do?"
The world held its breath.
Xiao Chen lowered his gaze.
Beneath him, the illusion formed a world—
A village in poverty.
Helpless civilians.
And in the distance—
A forest that once burned.
He saw himself as a child,
Curled beneath a broken roof,
Shivering from hunger.
His pupils tightened.
He remembered his father, Ni Linhai,
And the words he spoke before death:
"Fate…
Isn't something anyone should be born to carry.
If you have the power—
Then break it."
He also remembered—
The days of survival in the forest,
Alone, under the trials of Suan Wu Yi.
One blade.
One fire.
One leaf.
One breath.
How he survived—
Only he knew.
No one helped him.
He had hated.
He had despaired.
Until he swallowed that bitterness,
Clenched his fists—
And lived.
He knew this world was cruel.
He knew no one would truly defy fate for you.
Xiao Chen slowly lifted his gaze.
In the distance,
That figure—always blurred, yet familiar—
Stood at the edge of his vision.
She had always been there.
Like an invisible thread,
Tied tightly to his heart.
He drew a deep breath.
His eyes firm.
His voice low, but resolute:
"If I had the power of a god—
I would… create my own fate.
And let others… live without kneeling."
He imagined a tower—
One that made no distinction between noble and lowly.
A place where anyone who wished to live
Could grasp a thread of hope.
The Tower Spirit's phantom trembled slightly.
The air rippled—
As if something unseen had brushed across it.
The illusions in the distance shattered.
The sky darkened.
The scene began to shift again.
—The Third Question.
The space collapsed like a dream ending.
Black mist surged like tides,
Swallowing light and shadow,
Dragging him into a silent judgment.
Xiao Chen stood in a void of pitch black.
Around him—
Whispers and murmurs.
Male and female.
Old and young.
Some cried.
Some laughed.
Some called his name.
Some simply sighed.
It sounded like the whispers of the dead.
Or perhaps—
Fate itself passing judgment.
Gradually,
The voices gathered beneath his feet,
Forming a stream of broken light.
Within the light—
Fragments of memory.
A woman he had never seen with his own eyes.
She wore red.
Stood atop a high platform.
With a wave of her hand,
Storms surged across the sky.
Another scene—
She turned and smiled amid the flames of war.
Her eyes full of loneliness.
Another—
She sat quietly beneath a tree,
Holding a string of white jade beads.
Her lips curved gently,
As if murmuring someone's name…
These memories were not his.
Yet they felt strangely familiar—
So much so that his heart clenched.
He understood.
They were hers.
One of her lifetimes—
A woman whose name
He had not yet remembered.
Just before the voice returned—
One of the white jade beads in the woman's hand shattered.
It fell into the void—
Soundless.
Weightless.
Then, that familiar voice—
Vast and oppressive—
Crashed down from above:
"You know full well—
Fate cannot be defied.
So why… do you insist on defying it?"
The moment the voice fell,
The entire space sank.
Black mist surged like tides,
Transforming into invisible pressure that crashed toward Xiao Chen—
As if to tear his soul apart.
He clenched his teeth.
His steps did not falter.
The illusions scattered like ripples.
Only one final image remained:
A woman standing in the wind.
Her red robes fluttered.
Her gaze was gentle—
But sorrowful as the sea.
Her lips moved,
As if calling someone's name—
But no sound could be heard.
He didn't know who she was.
Couldn't recall her name.
But that familiarity—
Felt like a tear in his soul.
He didn't know her name.
But he knew—
She was someone
He could never forget.
The voice pressed again:
"Fate cannot be reversed.
Why do you insist on defying it?"
Xiao Chen slowly lowered his head.
He looked at the fist clenched in his palm.
His gaze grew cold.
"I… only know—
There's someone
I cannot afford to lose a second time."
"No matter who she is.
No matter what lies ahead—
I will protect what my heart truly wants to protect."
He understood—
This was not a search for answers.
It was a reckoning of what he was willing to bear.
Even if it meant defying the heavens.
In that instant—
All the black mist recoiled.
The space collapsed once more.
A single beam of light fell from above.
The Three Questions were complete.
The illusions fell silent.
The Gate of Fate—
Opened to a new chapter.
Xiao Chen stood still,
Staring ahead.
His chest tightened—
As if something within him
Was awakening in silence.