Chapter Text
---
Despite Jiang Fengmian’s desperate protests, the engagement between the Jiang and Yu clans moved forward with little delay.
The young heir could only bitterly accept how powerless he was against his stern, unyielding father and the obstinate elders of his clan. It didn’t help that the Yu clan kept pressing for the alliance to be finalized as soon as possible.
What else could he do? No matter how reluctant he felt, Jiang Fengmian had no choice but to accept the engagement.
To be fair, he held no prejudice against the infamously fiery young miss of the Yu clan. In fact, Fengmian had always admired strong, confident women, as they reminded him of the heroic tales of his ancestors, whom he deeply respected.
Moreover, he had known her for years, so it wasn’t as if she was a stranger to him. And yet, he simply couldn’t bring himself to see her in any other light.
It was a matter of the heart, something his reason could never comprehend, and he had no intention of forcing it to.
As the heir of a great house, his duty was clear: the clan’s interests came before all else. End of story.
Still, he couldn’t help but glance at the lone carved rule of his clan and give a weary smile.
...
Today marked the day of the official ceremony. Months of meticulous preparation and countless rehearsals had gone into ensuring that everything would be perfect as the Jiang clan’s heir led the grand procession toward the Yu family estate.
At least, that was how it should have been.
Just as the procession began to depart from the main gate, a massive screen, as black as polished obsidian, suddenly appeared in the sky and visible from hundreds of miles away. Curious cultivators attempted to approach it, only to discover that their hands passed through it as though it were nothing but air.
With such a strange phenomenon unfolding, the engagement could no longer continue. The heads of both clans decided to postpone the ceremony to another day, much to Jiang Fengmian’s secret relief.
For now, the pressing matter was to uncover what this “black mirror” was, and whether it posed any danger to their clans.
After several tests and failed attempts, all the cultivators reached a shocking discovery: this mysterious object could reveal the future. By offering a considerable amount of spiritual power and a short prayer, the mirror would illuminate and display visions related to the donor’s fate. The stronger the donor’s spiritual power, the clearer the visions appeared.
This revelation threw the cultivation world into chaos. The five great clans clashed fiercely for the right to use the mirror, until they finally agreed to hold a grand, religious ceremony where only a handful of representatives from each clan could participate and witness the visions of the future.
Once news spread, every influential figure in the cultivation fought for the chance to attend, even if it meant standing at a distance, just to catch a glimpse of the event.
After much discussions, the five clan leaders decided that each would send their direct heir to make the offering, ensuring the strongest possible connection to the future.
The first to step forward was none other than the pride of the Wen clan, Wen Ruohan, the most brilliant rising star of his generation. Gifted with extraordinary spiritual power and unmatched talent at such a young age, he was already expected to surpass the limits of the Golden Core realm and ascend to a higher plane. It was only natural that he would be the first to test the mirror.
With an arrogant smile, Wen Ruohan stood leisurely atop his spirit sword, arms spread wide toward the black screen in the sky. His white robes, traced with fiery red patterns, gleamed under the light, so bright that for a brief moment, they resembled the scorching sun itself. A few spectators below had to turn their eyes away.
Wen Ruo Han, with a light jump, controlling his sword to return next to his father on the ground. His eyes sparkled with expectations.
The mirror's surface rippled for a long time, not like water disturbed from without, but as if something inside it were stirring awake. The light wavered once, searching, before finally settling into an image.
...
A middle-aged man, still strikingly handsome, yet visibly worn by time, sat upon the Wen clan leader’s throne. His tired, indifferent gaze fell upon a trembling old servant kneeling several meters away.
“Z–Zongzhu, the eldest young lord... has passed away!” the servant stammered, his voice breaking with grief. “His entourage tried to save him, but young Nie Zongzhu cut them all down and took his head. We barely managed to recover what little was left of him.”
“Bury it,” came the cold reply.
...
The vision shifted again.
...
“Zongzhu… the young lord and his mistress have been killed! The perpetrator is believed to be from the Jiang clan!”
The older Wen Ruohan leaned back in his chair, exhaustion etched deep into his face. After a long silence, he raised a hand, dismissing the servants with a slight wave before closing his eyes.
...
Scene after scene unfolded, each darker than the last. No one among the onlookers could utter a single word. The air grew so heavy, it felt as though the world itself had fallen silent.
They watched, frozen, as vision after vision showed battles between Wen and other clans, and finally, Wen Ruo Han's downfall after being betrayed and cut down by his most trusted follower.
Then, the final image formed.
The crowd gasped in unison, voices rising in disbelief and horror.
Before their eyes, the once-magnificent palace of Sleepless Sky, the proud heart of the Wen clan, was engulfed in flames. Towering pillars collapsed one after another, until nothing remained but ashes and ruin.
Far away, the vision shifted again. The man who had stabbed Wen Ruohan in the back, clad in a golden robes only high-ranking official’s of the Jin clan could wear, was now seen smiling pleasantly beside the young master of the Lan clan.
And then, the mirror dimmed. The sky returned to its ordinary stillness, but the silence that followed was deafening.
“Im–impossible!”
“This is insane! The Wen clan... that monstrous genius... destroyed?”
“The one who killed Wen Ruohan is a Jin clan spy?! And even the Lan clan, the paragons of righteousness, were involved?”
“Why would our clan even fight the Wen clan?”
The uproar spread like wildfire. If the other clans were shaken, the Wen clan itself had descended into chaos.
“Zongzhu! Please, hold on!”
The current clan leader of the Wen collapsed, his face drained of color. Servants froze in panic, too stunned to catch him as he fell, but Wen Ruohan darted forward, catching his father just in time.
He had saved the old man, but his own expression was ghostly pale. The mirror had just shown him his fate as the last patriarch of his bloodline, and the one who would witness its fall. How could a man as proud and ambitious as he accept such a fate?
Wen Ruohan clenched his fists, suppressing the surge of fury threatening to overwhelm him. This wasn’t the time to lose control. Still, he couldn’t help but glance toward the Jin delegation, where that sly, smiling yellow weasel sat comfortably among his clan’s elders.
He could feel it in his bone. That damn Jin Guangshan had always been a slippery, self-serving snake.
For years, Wen Ruohan had forced himself to tolerate him for the sake of fairness, and for the Wen clan’s role as the regulator of the cultivation world. But his patience was never more strained than now.
The image of his future self haunted him: weary, hollow-eyed, sitting on the throne like a puppet bound by invisible strings. How had things come to that? What could have gone so terribly wrong?
Was it because of his years of solitary cultivation?
He had planned to retreat into long-term cultivation after assuming leadership, delegating his duties to the trusted aides and officers he had personally trained. It should have strengthened his control over the other four clans, not doomed his entire lineage.
But the mirror couldn't have lied. Which meant...
Wen Ruo Han bit his lower lip until it bled. And he gave a vicious smile towards the Jin clan.
'Jin. Guang. Shan! It seemed that I had underestimated you. But worry not, I'll repay the favor soon.'
....
Most of those present weren’t complete fools. If Wen Ruohan could draw such conclusions from what he’d seen, naturally, so could they.
The current clan leaders, the zongzhu of the great cultivation families, fell into an uneasy silence. Besides a few thick-headed ones failed to grasp the situation, the rest exchanged cautious glances of understanding. None of them knew exactly how the future would twist into such chaos, but one thing was certain: no one wanted to provoke the wrath of the Wen heir.
They had all witnessed his power firsthand, how he alone had wiped out dozens of their clan’s finest cultivators with ease. If not for betrayal, Wen Ruohan might very well have turned the tide of the entire war.
The heirs, however, saw things differently.
A handful of lesser heirs, those whose positions were secured only by being their parents’ only child, snickered openly, mocking the tragic fate of the future Wen patriarch. Their laughter echoed faintly in the tense air, unaware that they would one day regret it more than anyone else.
The heirs of the four great clans, at least, showed more restraint.
Jiang Fengmian remained quiet, head slightly bowed, trying to avoid Wen Ruohan’s sharp gaze. His lips moved in a whisper. “How could this even happen...?”
The Jiang heir had only come to this ceremony because his father had forced him to. He never cared to know his own future, believing that fate wasn’t something set in stone.
In his mind, there was no such thing as a free blessing falling from the heavens. He would rather spend this time enjoying the last few days of freedom before his dreaded engagement resumed.
But now, fate had other plans.
The mirror’s revelation had dragged his clan straight into the spotlight, right alongside the other three clans. He groaned softly, covering his face with one hand. “Perfect. Just perfect...”
Meanwhile, Jin Guangshan, ever the opportunist, had been the first heir to volunteer for the mirror at the beginning. "Why not?" he’d thought. "What’s the worst that could happen?"
He now regretted that thought deeply.
The young man was trembling behind his father, trying to hide from Wen Ruohan’s icy stare. He knew that if he didn’t act fast, he’d soon be a walking target. The Wen heir might not have said anything yet, but the look in his eyes said everything.
He had to shift the blame, somehow, anyhow, before it was too late.
Catching one of his underlings’ eyes, he gave a subtle signal. Time to stir the pot.
“Eh... um, does anyone understand why we’d be fighting the Wen clan?” one of his lackeys asked, scratching his head and glancing around nervously.
“Yeah! The Wen clan basically rules the entire cultivation world. Who’d even dare to go against them?” another chimed in.
Their words rippled through the crowd. Murmurs spread like wildfire as everyone began speculating, voices layering one over another.
‘Yes, yes... that’s it. Keep fanning the flames,’ Jin Guangshan thought, sweat dripping down his back.
Across the stage, the future Nie zongzhu wasn’t faring much better. According to the vision, his future son would be the one to behead Wen Ruohan’s heir, a fact that now loomed over him like a curse.
If Wen Ruohan cared about that, the Nie clan might be the first to face the Wen clan’s vengeance.
He broke into a cold sweat, trying to think of a way out. His mind, however, was far more suited for fighting than scheming. The more he thought, the more tangled it became. In the end, he simply sat there stiffly, praying to the heavens that some miracle would intervene.
Thankfully, it did. Sort of.
Unlike the others, the heir of the Lan clan, who had already earned the title Qingheng Jun at a young age, decided to break the stalemate. The silence was dragging on too long, and if someone didn’t take charge soon, the tension might explode.
He rose gracefully, drawing everyone’s attention. “Everyone, may I speak?”
The entire hall turned to him at once. The sudden attention made his composure waver, but he steadied himself with a calm breath and continued.
“I believe... we should keep watching. Perhaps the next vision will give us some answers.”
A murmur of agreement followed.
“Right, that makes sense.”
“As expected of the Lan heir. So composed!”
“That’s a great idea!”
Encouraged by the praise and nods of approval from elders and peers alike, the young Lan heir offered a faint, modest smile before sitting back down. He exhaled softly, the tension easing from his shoulders.
‘At least that’s one fire put out,’ he thought with relief.
...
“So... who’s next?”
Silence.
A great question indeed.
Who in their right mind would volunteer to stand before the furious Wen Ruohan—now seething after seeing his own betrayal and downfall—and offer their prayers to the mirror next?
Everyone knew what the last vision had shown:
A future where the Nie heir's son and a child of Jiang killed the heirs of Wen.
A Jin clan spy who assassinated Wen Ruohan himself.
And a Lan heir who was apparently that same spy’s close friend.
Yeah, hell no.
That was exactly what all four great clan heirs were thinking. But remaining silent for too long wasn’t an option either. Someone had to go next, or risk drawing Wen Ruohan’s attention.
Better act fast.
“I think... Brother Nie should go next,” Jin Guangshan spoke up smoothly, a smile stretching a little too wide. “He’s strong in both body and spirit, and since his son clearly inherits that strength, the vision should appear even clearer.”
“I agree with Young Master Jin,” Jiang Fengmian added quickly, latching onto the lifeline. “ Brother Nie is indeed a formidable cultivator. It makes perfect sense for him to start.”
Young master Nie’s eyes widened. “Y-you! Why me?! Pick someone else! I’m not doing it!”
“But Brother Nie,” Jiang Fengmian said with forced calm, “among the four of us, aren’t you the strongest? And since your future heir was the first mentioned in the vision... aren’t you at least a little curious to know why?”
The Nie's heir fell silent, his lips twitching.
Then Qingheng Jun spoke gently, his tone diplomatic but firm. “Nie Gongzi, if I may... The more we learn about the future, the better we can prevent such tragedies. There might be hidden reasons behind your heir’s actions, perhaps for righteous outcomes. If we can learn about that, it may also help ease Wen Gongzi’s grief and confusion. Don’t you think so?”
“That’s right!” someone chimed in.
“Please, Nie eldest childe! Do it for all of us!”
“Yes, we’re counting on you!”
“Help us out, Brother Nie!”
Under the weight of everyone’s stares and expectations, the mighty heir of the Nie clan finally groaned in defeat.
“...Fine. I’ll do it.”
He said it like a man walking to his own execution.
---