Beneath the tree,
The two stood amidst blood and wreckage,
Their breath still unsteady.
The serpent's blood had yet to dry,
Broken branches lay scattered,
And the mingled aura of demon and spirit lingered in the air.
The silver-scaled serpent stretched seven zhang long.
Even in death, its presence remained fierce.
Its severed head revealed pale bone joints,
And blood flowed along its scales,
Spilling onto the ground,
Painting eerie patterns among the violet-blue fallen leaves.
Xuan Chen stepped forward,
His sleeve brushing lightly—
A thread of spiritual energy lifted the serpent's body,
Moving it away from the tree's roots,
And placing it gently on level ground.
His movements were calm as still water,
Yet precise to the point of calculation.
He crouched to examine the serpent's bones,
His tone flat:
"The serpent pearl can serve as an array core.
Its scales can be forged into armor.
Its blood—rich in essence—
Can temper the body,
Or refine the soul.
Useful to both of us.
You saved my life.
You should choose first."
Xiao Chen stepped closer,
Surveyed the corpse,
And nodded.
His voice was equally calm:
"I'll take half the blood and two reverse scales.
The rest is yours."
Xuan Chen's brow lifted slightly—
A reaction so subtle it nearly went unnoticed.
He hadn't expected such decisiveness.
"Agreed."
He responded crisply,
Then began to carve scales and sever bones,
His movements fluid as drifting clouds.
Xiao Chen's brow twitched,
A flicker of caution flashed in his eyes.
Though young,
He was no stranger to danger.
To dissect a beast so cleanly,
Without damaging its essence—
This was no ordinary skill.
He probed:
"You handle this well.
Do you often deal with spirit beasts?"
Xuan Chen's gaze never left the serpent pearl.
He replied lightly:
"Heard of it.
Not often."
As Xiao Chen handed over a blade,
His fingers brushed the serpent's scales.
He glanced at Xuan Chen,
Thinking silently:
This man's technique is too clean…
Doesn't feel like 'just heard of it.'
As the words fell,
Xuan Chen exhaled a thread of spiritual energy,
Slowly extracting the serpent pearl.
A cold gleam swirled around it,
Faint and elusive.
The two collected the serpent's blood in specially crafted vessels.
Leaves continued to fall,
Landing softly on their shoulders.
Silent.
Still.
The two stood before the fruit-bearing tree,
Their gazes locked,
Then fell upon the spirit fruit glowing with violet-gold light.
The fruit bore a twin-born shape—
Its form like intertwined heart-veins,
Resembling the mark of a fate-soul.
Its aura was crisp and profound,
And carried a faint, elusive hum.
Xuan Chen and Xiao Chen exchanged a glance.
Neither spoke.
The air grew heavy with silence.
"Shall we spar for it?" Xuan Chen said softly.
"Let's see who earns it." Xiao Chen replied, tone equally firm.
They spoke almost in unison—
Then both smiled.
No killing intent yet,
But a shared understanding had already formed.
Xiao Chen sheathed his short blade,
His voice calm:
"Let's see who comes out on top."
Xuan Chen nodded lightly:
"Let the fruit fall to the victor."
Both stowed their weapons.
They agreed—
Barehanded combat.
Xiao Chen drew a deep breath,
Eyes never leaving the twin-born fruit.
Though young,
He had faced death more than once.
The seven trials of the Fate-Marks Tower had not broken his will.
This man in the dark robe was mysterious,
His aura deep and veiled—
Like a fog-shrouded abyss.
But Xiao Chen had never bowed to anyone.
And this fruit—
Arriving at such a moment—
To not fight for it
Would be to betray fate itself.
"Careful."
He whispered.
Then his foot sank,
Toes tapped the ground,
And his body shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow—
Closing the distance to within three feet of Xuan Chen.
No strike yet,
But the momentum surged.
He didn't open with a heavy blow,
Instead, he advanced swiftly,
Eyes locked on Xuan Chen's—
Trying to catch the slightest shift in his aura.
He wasn't rushing to win.
He wanted to see—
Was this man bluffing,
Or like the serpent,
Did he hide blades beneath his scales?
Xuan Chen was startled by his speed.
In a blink, Xiao Chen was upon him.
His right hand formed a crude sword,
Slashing upward.
Xuan Chen saw the force behind the strike,
Stepped back and turned his body,
Just barely dodging—
Then countered with a palm strike aimed at Xiao Chen's neck.
Xiao Chen spun to evade,
Then reversed his hand,
Striking toward Xuan Chen's wrist.
The force lingered,
The aura still sharp.
Xuan Chen noted his shifted balance,
Stepped sideways with his right foot,
Then kicked at Xiao Chen's supporting leg.
Xiao Chen was hit,
Flipped backward,
Caught himself with his left hand,
Rolled and landed,
Eyes cold,
Locked onto Xuan Chen.
Round one—
One attack, one defense.
Both missed by half a move.
Round two—
The momentum shifted.
This time, Xuan Chen took the initiative.
His form expanded,
Aura restrained,
Fast as flowing light.
A palm strike shot toward Xiao Chen's chest.
Xiao Chen blocked with his arm—
The force felt like silk,
But hid a needle's edge.
His bones trembled.
He countered with a straight punch.
Xuan Chen pressed down on his elbow,
Shifted instantly,
And aimed his fingers at Xiao Chen's shoulder acupoint.
Xiao Chen reacted swiftly,
Spun sideways,
Used his palm against the ground to rise,
Then swept a kick toward Xuan Chen's lower body.
Xuan Chen didn't retreat—
He advanced.
His body moved like a swallow in flight.
One hand blocked Xiao Chen's leg,
The other struck toward his chest's vital point.
Xiao Chen pulled back—
Dodging the fatal blow,
But the force still grazed his shoulder,
Pushing him back three steps.
Then—
Xiao Chen's eyes sharpened.
His aura shifted.
His inner breath surged.
With a soft shout,
He charged again.
His moves looked familiar,
But his aura was steadier,
His angles more precise.
Xuan Chen was surprised:
This boy…
He's learning mid-fight?
Correcting flaws in real time?
He's… growing through battle?
Their clash intensified.
Fists and palms collided.
Auras burst and tangled.
Their movements diverged—
Xiao Chen like wind chasing shadows,
Xuan Chen like water flowing with form.
One fierce, one fluid.
Interwoven without pause.
Unnoticed, the slanting sun had fallen. Twilight dimmed the forest, leaves drifting from the branches, casting shadows that danced with the two figures locked in combat.
At last, Xiao Chen's breath came ragged. Bruises and scrapes marked his body. He halted, standing firm, and looked toward Xuan Chen, speaking slowly:
"Enough… I'm done… huff… You weren't even using your full strength, were you?"
Xuan Chen also stopped. His expression remained calm, but he drew a deep breath, a ripple stirring in his heart: This boy's potential… it defies reason.
Outwardly, he replied in a quiet voice, "You didn't lose by much." Yet he caught the probing glint in Xiao Chen's eyes.
"You still have something to say?" he asked evenly.
Xiao Chen's tone was low, but laced with inquiry: "That last strike… you clearly held back. You waited for me to move first before countering."
Xuan Chen paused, turning his head. His gaze was as still as a night lake. "To observe one's stance… is to know one's heart."
Xiao Chen raised a brow. "You were testing me?"
Still panting, he wiped the sweat from his brow, but his eyes remained sharp. "We didn't settle anything."
The two walked toward the fruit tree, their breaths not yet fully steady.
Its trunk was thick as a man's waist, roots twisting like coiled dragons deep into the stone layers below, as if fused with the earth's veins. The bark was not bark at all, but a hardened spiritual shell of violet-black, glimmering with star-like patterns. As it pulsed with spiritual energy, the patterns seemed to shift and flow on their own.
Xiao Chen murmured in awe, "This tree… doesn't look like something this forest could've nurtured…"
He gazed at the spirit fruit, puzzled. "It looks… ripe?"
Xuan Chen studied the fruit before them. Within its violet-gold glow, twin veins emerged—two hearts pulsing in unison, light spinning like stardust, intertwining as one.
He reached for his sword to slice the fruit. But at the first strike—ding—the blade rang out, numbing his wrist. The fruit remained untouched.
Xiao Chen watched, raising a brow. "Your sword… it's not fake, is it? Let me try."
He summoned sword energy and struck. Yet a supple force blocked the blow, not even disturbing the branch.
Leaning closer, Xiao Chen reached out. A soft pop sounded as a faint recoil of energy bounced back, numbing his palm. He shook his hand, muttering, "This fruit… seems to have a will of its own."
Xuan Chen lowered his gaze, observing for a moment before speaking slowly. "This fruit… how do you propose we divide it?"
(Xuan Chen steadies his breath, eyes on the fruit.)
Xuan Chen (calmly): "This fruit… how do you propose we divide it?"
Xiao Chen (focused): "A treasure like this, and you're willing to split it? Then you go first—I'll take the other half."
Xuan Chen's eyes flickered, a smile playing at his lips. "Aren't you afraid I'll take the half with stronger spirit?"
Xiao Chen returned the smile, his tone mild but edged: "If you can truly tell which half holds the greater essence… then I'll concede."
Xuan Chen smiled faintly, saying nothing. He placed his fingers on the node of the fruit-bearing branch, guiding his spiritual breath slowly inward. At the point of contact, he sensed something unexpected—an array pattern embedded within. This was no prize to be taken by brute force.
Suddenly, he turned to Xiao Chen, his voice light and calm.
"You… how many innate sigils were you born with?"
Xiao Chen paused, then countered,
"And you—what lineage do you cultivate?"
Their gazes met, both deep as still ponds. No wind, no words.
Xuan Chen spoke softly,
"We… don't belong to this mountain."
Xiao Chen raised a brow.
"You first."
Xuan Chen turned toward the horizon.
"I came seeking a soul of fate. I didn't expect to find you first."
Xiao Chen gave a cold laugh.
"Then tell me—if you're here to seek a soul, why set an array to observe the fruit?"
Xuan Chen replied evenly,
"Cause and consequence remain unclear. I dare not seize it blindly."
He closed his eyes briefly, letting his spiritual sense probe into the fruit, tracing its internal flow. Then he spoke:
"This fruit's spirit has just awakened. Its nodes must be harmonized with spiritual breath to guide its division. Forceful extraction would only damage its essence."
He pressed two fingers to the branch node. His energy pulsed gently, like water flowing. The fruit trembled, then slowly split into two. Yet its aura did not sever—instead, one half yin, one half yang, resonating together like twin souls born of one source.
Xuan Chen murmured,
"As I thought… a dual-life fruit."
He thought to himself: This fruit has a will. It chooses its bearer… If not for fate's design, how could it have split in my hands?
Xiao Chen took one half, raising a brow.
"Dual-life?"
Xuan Chen:
"One half is fate. The other, tribulation. By dividing it, we both enter the same fate-tribulation cycle."
Xiao Chen smirked, half amused.
"What then? If I lose, you'd still let me keep half the fruit?"
Xuan Chen chuckled softly.
"It's not me giving it to you. The fruit… chose you itself."
Xiao Chen let out a laugh, teasing:
"You've got a way with words—if I beat you again, should a third petal sprout from your hand to make up for it?"
Xuan Chen's tone remained steady. "If you truly win, I won't stop you from trying."
Xiao Chen nodded. "If you don't seize, I won't evade."
Xuan Chen glanced sideways at the youth. His aura was calm, his soul essence restrained—far beyond ordinary.
He spoke in a low voice, "The Twin-Life Spirit Fruit… only those whose soul resonance aligns may share it."
Xiao Chen looked at him. "You tested me earlier. Now it's the fruit's turn to test us both?"
Xuan Chen gazed at the half-fruit in his hand, eyes deep. "Perhaps… this is fate."
They locked eyes for a moment, then shared a quiet smile. Yet neither lowered their guard. Without another word, each took a half and consumed it.
The fruit melted instantly on the tongue, leaving a faint sweetness. Then—spiritual energy surged, flooding into their qi seas.
—
Xuan Chen sat cross-legged, circulating his true energy. He refined the serpent blood and fruit essence together. His meridians stirred, his qi flow grew smoother, his body firmed like iron. His breath remained steady, yet beneath it, signs of transformation brewed—his qi sea wrapped in a faint membrane, sealed yet unsealed.
Soon, his spiritual sea erupted with visions. A shattered mirror reflected his own image. Behind him, ten phantom marks spiraled, yet remained unformed. A barely visible golden thread pointed toward the youth before him.
Xuan Chen's gaze sharpened, thoughts churning:
Spiritual energy flows into his body like water returning to the sea—no resistance, no rupture…
His physique is unusually resilient, his soul's capacity far beyond norm… Could it be… more than six innate sigils?
No… this endurance surpasses even seven or eight. Could he be…
He frowned, then chuckled to himself:
I'm overthinking. A ten-sigil body… that's a near-mythical fate. What are the odds I'd meet a second one in this remote wilderness? If that's true… then Heaven truly enjoys its little dramas.
—
Xiao Chen, meanwhile, felt the serpent's blood and fruit essence swiftly absorbed by his ten-sigil constitution. His energy surged without pain—like water merging with the ocean. His body and soul showed strength far beyond his age.
Then, his spiritual sea too stirred. An ancient star floated and sank, divine fire flickering within. A nameless figure stood upon a bridge of stars, smiling faintly, whispering:
"Fate lies beneath the stars… and cannot remain whole."
—
Xuan Chen watched in silence, mind filled with doubt and awe.
This boy… refining serpent blood and spirit fruit simultaneously… yet his body remains intact, his soul unbroken… Could he also be a multi-sigil bearer?
As he breathed in spiritual energy, Xuan Chen subtly invoked a thread of soul resonance, attempting to probe Xiao Chen's origin.
But Xiao Chen sensed it. Though unfamiliar with the technique, instinctively he sealed his mind, preventing Xuan Chen from drawing any conclusions.
Xuan Chen silently admired him. This youth is no ordinary cultivator. He must have a hidden background… and an extraordinary fate.
Without revealing his thoughts, Xuan Chen quietly marked Xiao Chen as a subject of future observation.
Xiao Chen, too, was watching. He noticed discontinuities in Xuan Chen's spiritual flow—signs of foreign qi. He suspected this man wasn't native to the Central Plains. His aura hinted at Western array cultivation.
His earlier challenge had been no casual invitation—it was a test of strength and technique.
—
Both awakened from their visions, saying nothing. They sat in quiet meditation as starlight emerged and a gentle breeze brushed past.
Above the spirit fruit, the final glimmer of light faded—marking the end of one fate, and the beginning of another.
Fate shared… tribulation inevitable.