The first light of dawn broke over the Wen Estate, gilding the rooftops and painting long shadows across the courtyard. Wen Chen's footsteps were soft on the gravel path as he moved past the lotus pond, the water reflecting the sunlight in rippling patterns. The usual morning bustle of the estate was muted; even the birds seemed subdued. Servants moved quietly, casting furtive glances at Wen Chen, careful not to disturb the heavy tension in the air.
He paused by the pond, taking in every detail—the gentle sway of the lilies, the soft glimmer of dew on the statues, and the faint whisper of wind through the pines. Something was off. The elders were watching more closely than usual. Had they sensed what happened yesterday? Wen Chen's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained calm, unreadable.
From the pavilion nearby, Wen Jian observed his son, a flicker of worry crossing his usually calm face. "Chen," he called softly, "how did the assessment go yesterday?"
Wen Chen bowed lightly. "It went smoothly, Father. Nothing unusual occurred."
Wen Jian stepped closer, his hand resting briefly on his son's shoulder. "Are you certain? Nothing… out of the ordinary?"
A faint smile appeared on Wen Chen's lips. "Everything as expected. Do not worry."
The father's eyes lingered on him. The elders… if they sense something, my son could be targeted. He's talented, yes—but too much attention brings danger. "The elders are cunning. They do not forgive mistakes easily. Be careful, Chen."
Wen Chen's gaze softened but remained resolute. "I understand. I will handle whatever comes."
Yesterday had been different. The inner-clan courtyard had buzzed with energy, the clashing of wooden swords and the hum of magical cultivation filling the air. Elders sat in elevated seats, their eyes sharp and calculating as younger disciples displayed their skills. Wen Chen had joined the mid-grade disciples quietly, his movements fluid and precise, sharper than his usual level.
Whispers traveled among the elders. "Wasn't his talent mid-grade?" one murmured. Another added, "Why do his movements… look sharper today?"
Wen Chen did not respond, letting the murmurs wash over him like distant wind. Every stance, every swing, every adjustment was carefully measured. He revealed nothing, yet the subtle enhancement of his abilities was clear to those who were watching closely.
As the assessment continued, a stronger disciple approached a wooden training dummy, attacking it with relentless force. Splinters flew, sharp cracks echoing across the courtyard. Then, almost imperceptibly, a faint golden glow appeared, forming a small, radiant orb that floated into the air.
Wen Chen's eyes narrowed. No one else seemed to notice it. Casually, as if adjusting his stance, he reached out and let his fingers brush the orb. A warm surge coursed through him, and inside his mind, his talent panel flickered faintly. He had gained +17 Luck Points, though he did not upgrade yet.
The elders remained oblivious. The subtle shift had gone unnoticed, yet it had changed something fundamental within him. His movements now carried the faint trace of unseen power, and his senses had sharpened in response.
From the side, Elder Wen Zemin observed. His sharp eyes narrowed, and instinctively, he leaned closer to his assistant. "Did… did he just gain something?" he whispered.
The assistant shook his head. "I do not know, Elder. But his movements… something feels different."
Even Zemin could not define what had changed, yet the instinctive feeling was unmistakable: Wen Chen had crossed a threshold, and the shift would not go unnoticed for long.
Returning to the present, Wen Chen straightened his robes and exhaled softly. The memory of the hidden orb, the whispers of elders, and the subtle increase in his skill lingered in his mind, but his face remained calm.
Wen Jian's hand rested on his son's shoulder for a moment longer. "Chen… the elders are not forgiving. If they sense something unnatural, trouble will follow. I fear for you."
Wen Chen's voice was steady. "I understand, Father. I will manage it. There is no need for fear."
A hush settled briefly over the courtyard, the morning light casting a warm glow over the two of them. Wen Jian knew the boy had strength, yet the world they lived in was treacherous. One misstep could lead to disaster.
The quiet was shattered by the hurried steps of a steward who rushed into the courtyard, bowing deeply. "Young Master Wen Chen, Elder Council requests your presence… immediately."
Wen Chen's eyes narrowed, a sharp glint of anticipation flickering within them. Every instinct within him sharpened. The hidden Luck Orb, the subtle increase in his abilities, and the suspicious glance of Elder Wen Zemin—all converged into a web of intrigue.
He followed the steward without hesitation, each step measured and precise. The morning sun cast long shadows across the courtyard, the statues and pillars forming shapes that seemed almost alive with unseen eyes.
The game begins sooner than expected, he thought, his pulse steady, his mind calm. Every step brought him closer to the chamber where the elders waited, each of them sharp, calculating, and filled with silent questions. Wen Chen's calm exterior did not falter, but inside, a single thought echoed: I am ready.
As the chamber doors closed behind him, the air felt heavier. He was now within a room of power, suspicion, and destiny—where his skill, his composure, and the hidden threads of luck would be tested like never before.