Part Three
That night, the sky rippled faintly.
No light descended.
No pressure.
But Zheng Wen Te felt it.
Heaven observing again.
Not during strength.
During weakness.
He opened his eyes and looked upward.
"I am not exceptional," he said softly.
"I am afraid. I regret. I fail."
The sky did not respond.
But the adaptive formation around his courtyard loosened slightly.
Just enough to feel.
He inhaled.
"If you measure evolution," he continued quietly, "measure this too."
Behind him, Lian felt the words settle inside her.
He was not trying to impress Heaven.
He was inviting it to understand.
That invitation was more radical than defiance.
And somewhere beyond sight—
Something vast adjusted its framework.