The Solitary Lotus Pavilion was silent, save for the faint crackle of incense burning in the dim chamber. Feng Xieyun sat with his eyes closed, his Qi circulating like a raging storm within him. The flames in the bronze lanterns flickered erratically, disturbed by the aura leaking from his body.
The marriage announcement still echoed in his mind. Every word was a blade, each syllable a chain meant to bind the woman who should never be chained.
The System's voice was the first to break the silence.
> [They flaunt their power, yet you remain powerless.]
[Hatred, Xieyun. Hatred is the path to strength. Take it. Embrace it.]
Feng Xieyun exhaled slowly. His eyes opened, glowing faintly with a dangerous light. "I will not be your puppet. My strength will not be born from your venom. It will be born from my will."
The System hissed like boiling oil before retreating into silence. But the faint tremor in its tone betrayed something new—unease.
---
Meanwhile, in the Lian Clan's inner courtyard, preparations for the engagement were underway. Lanterns of crimson and gold were hung from carved beams, and silken ribbons fluttered in the late autumn wind.
Lian Zhe walked beneath them, her steps quiet, her expression calm. Servants bowed as she passed, whispering congratulations they did not mean. She ignored them all, her heart distant.
In her chamber, she stood before a bronze mirror. The reflection showed a woman dressed in bridal silks, a veil draped across her arm. But her eyes—the eyes of the Chaos Goddess—flashed for just a moment with a light no mortal bloodline could explain.
"Yu," she whispered softly, her voice trembling though her face remained composed. "The world may bind me, but my soul will wait. Find me."
The wind outside howled, scattering petals from the garden into the night sky.
---
Back in the Pavilion, Feng Xieyun rose to his feet. He could not sit idle while others drew chains around her. His fists clenched, veins pulsing with newfound power.
"The Jia Clan dares to touch what they cannot comprehend," he muttered, his voice laced with cold fury. "If they wish to challenge the heavens, then let the heavens fall upon them."
He strode out of his chamber. The night was thick with mist, the lotus ponds of the Pavilion glowing faintly under moonlight. With each step, his aura grew heavier, darker. He had no need for fanfare. He would carve his will into the world in silence, and let blood testify to it.
The moon above shifted behind storm clouds. A sign, perhaps, that the heavens themselves watched this moment.
---
That same night, a Jia Clan procession passed near the Pavilion, escorting crates of spirit jade and rare treasures as tribute to the Lian Clan. Arrogant banners fluttered on their carriages, bearing the Jia emblem—a golden serpent coiled around the heavens.
The sight of it ignited something within Xieyun.
He stepped into the path of the procession, his robes fluttering in the wind. The guards shouted in alarm, weapons raised.
"Who dares block the way of the Jia Clan!?" one demanded.
Feng Xieyun's voice was calm, yet it cut through the night like a blade. "A man who has no tolerance for dogs barking beneath the heavens."
The first guard charged. In an instant, Xieyun's palm lashed out, and the man was sent sprawling into the mud, coughing blood.
The others hesitated, their bravado faltering before the storm that radiated from him.
Xieyun's gaze swept across them. "Tell your masters," he said coldly, "that if they wish to celebrate with banners, I will paint them red myself. Three months? They will not last three weeks."
The procession scattered, dragging their wounded behind them. The road was left silent, save for the drip of blood staining the stones.
Feng Xieyun turned and vanished back into the mist, his figure swallowed by the night.
---
High above, unseen by mortal eyes, the Unknown God stirred. His shadow lingered on the edge of the Immortal Plane, watching the defiance below. His laughter was a whisper across eternity.
> "Struggle, soul of Feng Yu. Struggle as much as you wish. Each step you take only tightens the chains I wove."
But in the darkness, another presence stirred—the Chaos Goddess. Her voice, faint yet unyielding, rippled through the night sky.
> "And yet, even in chains, he walks toward me. You will not claim him, no matter how many times he dies."
Between them, the mortal world trembled.
The stage for war was being