The Wen Clan estate woke early, long before the sun rose, its courtyards humming with barely controlled anticipation. The spiritual root testing was tomorrow. For the younger generation, it was the singular day that decided everything—what path they would walk, how much respect they could command, and whether the clan would see them as pillars… or burdens.
Wen Chen stepped out of his room and quietly pushed the wooden door shut. The faint dawn breeze carried the scent of dew and pine needles, clear and refreshing, but tension hung over the estate like a drawn bowstring. Everywhere he looked, people were practicing stances, rushing around, or whispering feverishly about their expectations.
Though calm on the outside, Wen Chen felt his heartbeat quicken. He wasn't nervous—merely cautious. Too many things were aligning too quickly since he awakened his ability to glimpse luck orbs. And the orb he absorbed yesterday… that one had been different. Larger. Brighter. Pulsing with fate-changing potential.
"High root within the clan's range…" he murmured under his breath. "What exactly does that mean for me?"
The Wen Clan's "high-level roots" weren't considered supreme in the whole cultivation world, but within the clan's internal rankings, they were revered. Anyone who awakened such a root was considered elite, destined for powerful cultivation manuals, guidance from the Elders, and a future that reached beyond the clan walls.
He wasn't sure what he would awaken. But the orb he gained last night left a warm, buzzing sensation deep in his dantian, like a slumbering ember waiting to ignite. His father had noticed it too—though Wen Jian said nothing.
As Wen Chen walked deeper into the courtyard, he saw the younger clan members already buzzing with anxious excitement. Wen Liang and Wen Shuyu stood together practicing basic footwork, their faces pale with stress. Several disciples near them shot Wen Chen jealous looks. He ignored them. They had probably heard rumors. Rumors that he had suddenly improved. Rumors that an elder had been watching him closely.
Not the best timing… but he couldn't undo what fate delivered to him.
He crossed the courtyard, each step steady and deliberate. Around him, the morning clamor intensified. Young disciples clustered in groups—comparing notes, bragging, arguing, even praying.
"Did you hear? Wen Shuyang is said to have trained all night!"
"Do you think anyone will awaken a high-grade root this year?"
"I heard Elder Zemin himself will observe the testing!"
Wen Chen heard all of it. He responded to none.
He was used to being invisible before the awakening of his luck perception ability—but now, ironically, his calm composure drew attention.
He didn't want it.
As he rounded a corner, a faint golden shimmer twinkled at the edge of his vision. An orb. Floating right above the tiled walkway.
This one was small—no bigger than a marble—but pure gold like the others. It drifted lazily in circles, unnoticed by everyone else. A few minutes at most before it vanished.
Wen Chen glanced around. No one was paying attention. He inhaled, maintaining a natural posture, and walked past it casually. As his sleeve brushed near it, the orb shot toward his palm like a spark returning to flame.
A warmth spread through his body.
+3 Luck Points.
Just a slight improvement, but every drop mattered.
"Another one," Wen Chen whispered calmly. "This path… it chooses me whether I want it or not."
He kept walking.
Soon, he reached the martial field, where dozens of clan members had gathered. The training ground was louder than ever, filled with grunts, clashing wooden swords, and urgent instructions.
Wen Zemin, the stern elder with sharp eyes, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, overseeing a group of disciples. His gaze was deep, unreadable—like he was waiting for something. Wen Chen remained far away; he didn't want unnecessary attention. Yet he still felt the elder's presence like a cold finger pressing against the back of his neck.
Wen Zemin remembered what happened during the assessment. He had seen something… something faint, like a ripple in fate. Something he probably couldn't explain even if he tried.
Wen Chen kept his distance.
He turned toward the training pile where wooden dummy logs were kept and took one silently. Today he wasn't looking to train intensely. He was waiting—waiting for any signs, any luck orbs, any clues.
He struck the dummy with controlled strength. A soft thud echoed.
He struck again.
His body moved with rhythm, precision, and a subtle sharpness very few noticed before.
Then, as his fist landed on the dummy's chest plate, he felt a tug in the air—instinctual rather than physical.
A small green orb drifted free from the dummy's internal mechanism, quivering gently like a fragile seedling sprouting in spring.
+2 Luck Points.
Green orbs were rare. They signified increased affinity—not direct talent improvement, but the ability to learn techniques faster.
Wen Chen inhaled deeply as the energy settled into him. Only he knew the significance. Only he saw the colors.
He didn't dare provoke too much attention. If anyone suspected he was gaining mysterious advantages… trouble would follow.
Especially from the clan's future villain.
He sensed it. A shadow that had not yet taken shape.
Not a demon. Not an enemy from outside. Someone from within the Wen Clan—someone whose ambition simmered beneath the surface, hungry and dangerous.
He didn't know who it was yet.
But destiny was whispering warnings.
As he resumed training, the air shifted slightly. A presence approached—familiar but stern.
His father.
Wen Jian's expression was its usual mix: affection buried under steel. He wasn't the type to smile openly, yet his eyes softened the moment they landed on his son.
"You're training early," Wen Jian said, stepping beside him.
"You're awake earlier than me," Wen Chen replied calmly.
"Tch. Don't try to sound clever."
But Wen Chen saw it—pride flickering behind the strict facade.
Wen Jian crossed his arms. "Tomorrow is important. Not just for the clan—this decides how the elders view you."
"I'm ready," Wen Chen said simply.
"Good," his father replied. "Because once your root is revealed, paths will open—or close. You must walk carefully."
Wen Jian lowered his voice.
"And some people… are already watching you."
Wen Chen stiffened slightly. "Elder Zemin?"
"Yes." Wen Jian's gaze sharpened. "And others. Power attracts eyes. Even unintentional power."
Wen Chen remained silent for a moment before sighing softly. "I'll stay cautious."
"You better," Wen Jian said. Then, more softly: "You're my son. I cannot protect you from everything."
The words hit Wen Chen unexpectedly hard. His father wasn't a warm man—but he was real. He cared the only way he knew how.
"I'll be fine," Wen Chen promised.
Before Wen Jian could reply, a loud shout echoed across the courtyard.
"Young master! Young Master Wen Chen!"
A clan steward rushed toward them, panting heavily.
"The Elder Council requests your presence… immediately!"
Wen Jian and Wen Chen exchanged a sharp look.
Just before the testing…
The villains of fate were already moving.