The night was quiet.
Too quiet.
Li Yuan lay on his bed, staring at the dark wooden ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of the sect breathing around him—distant footsteps, the whisper of wind through the mountain paths, the low hum of spiritual formations far above.
He did not cultivate.
For once, he did not force spiritual energy through his meridians or repeat techniques he already knew would yield mediocre results.
His mind was elsewhere.
Tomorrow, I'll decide.
The words echoed again and again.
In his previous life, decisions had always been made for him—by talent, by background, by circumstance. He reacted. He endured. He accepted.
This time, the burden was heavier.
Because choice meant responsibility.
If he chose wrongly, the consequences would not end with him.
---
Morning came.
The bell rang.
Li Yuan rose, washed his face, and put on his outer disciple robe. His expression was calm, but his eyes were deeper than before.
He walked toward Herb Field Three.
As expected, Chen Yue was already there.
She was kneeling beside a plot of spirit grass, carefully adjusting the soil around its roots. Morning light reflected faintly off her face, highlighting the quiet seriousness in her expression.
Li Yuan watched her for a moment.
In the future he remembered, she would survive the outer disciple phase. She would struggle. She would compromise. And eventually, she would disappear from his life entirely.
Not because she failed.
But because the world pushed her aside.
"Good morning," he said.
Chen Yue looked up, surprised, then smiled. "You're early."
"So are you."
They worked together for a while, exchanging only a few words. There was an ease between them that felt earned rather than forced.
After some time, Li Yuan spoke.
"Chen Yue," he said, not looking at her. "If you had a chance to choose a different path… would you take it?"
She paused, her fingers stilling in the soil.
"A different path?" she repeated.
"Yes," Li Yuan said. "One that's uncertain. One that might be harder at first—but could lead somewhere completely different."
Chen Yue stood slowly and brushed dirt from her hands.
She thought for a long time.
"I don't dream of greatness," she said finally. "But I don't want to be trapped either. If there's a path where my efforts actually matter… I'd be willing to try."
Li Yuan turned to face her.
"So even if it's risky?"
She met his gaze. "Especially if it's risky."
For a brief moment, the world seemed to still.
No system prompts appeared.
No dramatic signs descended from the heavens.
Just two people standing in a quiet herb field.
Li Yuan nodded.
"That's enough," he said.
Chen Yue blinked. "Enough for what?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he spoke calmly. "From today onward, I plan to cultivate differently. I won't chase recognition or quick advancement. I'll move slowly. Carefully."
She listened intently.
"And I don't intend to walk alone."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"You mean—"
"I'm not asking for an answer right now," Li Yuan said. "But I want you to know this: I'm serious about the future. Not just mine. Ours."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Chen Yue exhaled softly.
"You've changed," she said. "You don't speak like someone who's just entered the sect."
Li Yuan smiled faintly. "People change when they realize what's at stake."
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded.
"Give me some time," she said quietly.
"I will."
---
That night, Li Yuan returned to his room and summoned the system.
Eternal Progenitor System
[Marriage Bonds Available: 1]
The same information appeared again.
[Candidate Detected: Chen Yue]
Compatibility: Stable
Bloodline Variance: Moderate
Long-Term Risk: Low
Potential Growth: Unknown
This time, a new line appeared beneath it.
[Note: Emotional synchronization increases bloodline stability.]
Li Yuan's expression did not change.
"So that's how you work," he murmured. "You don't force. You wait."
He closed the interface.
Outside, the moon climbed higher.
In another part of the sect, inner disciples cultivated powerful techniques, unaware that something far more dangerous was quietly taking shape below them.
Not power.
But continuity.
Li Yuan sat in silence until dawn.
When the bell rang again, he stood.
"Tomorrow," he said softly, repeating the word one last time.
But this time—
He already knew his answer.
---