(Side Hall — When Futures Collide)
By now, the hall no longer felt like a gathering.
It felt like a battlefield without weapons.
Every clan had seen something.
Every disciple had lost something.
Confidence.
Pride.
Certainty.
The orb floated quietly at the center, its milky surface dimmer now—yet heavier, as though burdened by the countless truths it had revealed.
The remaining clans stepped back one after another.
Some relieved.
Some shaken.
Some pretending nothing had changed.
Even the group that had once mocked Zhang Wei stood differently now.
Two of the girls lowered their gazes, their earlier arrogance gone—replaced by quiet resignation. Their futures had shown simple marriages, peaceful lives far from power.
The third—
A general.
Cold.
Fearsome.
The boys fared no better.
Two scholars.
Two elders.
Ordinary.
Safe.
No glory.
The whispers followed them as they retreated.
"…So that's all they amount to…"
"…How disappointing…"
"…Or perhaps… fortunate…"
Then—
Silence returned.
Because now—
Only one clan remained.
The Zhang.
The air tightened again.
Not out of curiosity this time—
But expectation.
Sang Sang stepped forward first.
Sang Sang
Her dim red robe flowed softly as she walked, the fabric brushing lightly against the floor with each step. Her hair was pinned simply, a delicate hairpin catching the light faintly—nothing extravagant, yet fitting her quiet nature.
She didn't hesitate.
Her fingers touched the orb.
It pulsed.
First Scene
Darkness.
A small room.
A young girl sat alone.
Her eyes—
Unseeing.
A scroll lay open before her.
Her fingers traced the characters slowly, painstakingly, memorizing what she could not see.
Outside—
Voices laughed.
Children played.
She remained.
Still.
Practicing.
Failing.
Trying again.
Her lips trembled slightly—
But she did not cry.
The hall grew quiet.
Even those who once whispered now said nothing.
Second Scene
A battlefield.
Smoke.
Blood.
Ji Yao stood at the edge of defeat.
Surrounded.
Breathing heavy.
Then—
Sang Sang stepped forward.
Her stance—
Unshaken.
A warrior.
Not blind.
Not fragile.
But resolute.
She stood beside him.
Not behind.
The wind howled.
Two figures—
Facing death.
Together.
Across the hall—
Ji Yao's gaze shifted.
Just slightly.
Third Scene
A quiet place.
The same space Ji Yao had stood in earlier.
But now—
Sang Sang stood there too.
Facing a different path.
"…When needed," she said softly.
"I will stand with you."
Ji Yao didn't respond.
But he didn't leave.
Then—
The scene softened.
A small figure appeared.
A child.
Black-haired.
Wearing the Zhang crest.
"Auntie!"
He ran forward.
Wrapped his arms around her legs.
The hall stirred.
Because when he turned—
He looked like Zhang Wei.
Older.
Younger.
Both.
Sang Sang smiled.
Soft.
Warm.
Her gaze shifted briefly—
Toward Zhang Lin.
He nodded.
The scene ended.
The orb turned—
Transparent.
Barely there.
The gentle girl spoke:
"A presence like wind."
The cold one added:
"Unseen… yet always there."
Sang Sang stepped back slowly.
Her composure held.
But her fingers—
Shook slightly.
Next—
Fei Fei.
Fei Fei
She approached with less confidence.
Her robe today was soft pink layered with cream, light and flowing—but her steps were hesitant.
Her hand touched the orb.
First Scene
Laughter.
She ran.
Trying to escape training.
Zhang Lin caught her every time.
She pouted.
He didn't budge.
The hall chuckled softly.
Even she smiled.
Second Scene
A wedding.
Red silk.
Golden embroidery.
Her hands trembled slightly—
But her smile was real.
Beside her—
Zhang Lie.
Strong.
Certain.
Their eyes met.
And for once—
He softened.
The hall sighed.
Warmth returned briefly.
Third Scene
Darkness.
War.
Fei Fei knelt.
Her robe stained deep brown.
Her arms held someone.
Shaking.
Crying.
The figure in her embrace—
Zhang Wei.
His eyes closed.
A faint smile on his lips.
Still.
Gone.
The hall froze.
Zhang Lie's jaw clenched.
Sang Sang's breath hitched.
Zhang Lin's fingers curled tightly.
Fei Fei pulled back suddenly.
"…No…"
Her voice cracked.
The orb dimmed.
"A heart of joy… touched by grief."
She stumbled back—
And instinctively grabbed Wei.
Holding him.
Too tightly.
Wei blinked.
"…I'm fine."
His voice was calm.
Steady.
"It's not real."
But his eyes—
Rested on the orb.
Carefully.
Zhang Lin stepped forward next.
Zhang Lin
His robe, still faintly marked from earlier training, shifted heavily as he moved. His presence alone made nearby disciples step back unconsciously.
His hand touched the orb.
First Scene
A boy.
Fifteen.
Training.
Relentless.
Under Elder Mi's watch.
Fighting beasts.
Enduring pain.
Becoming—
Unbreakable.
Second Scene
A throne.
Not grand.
But respected.
Zhang Lin stood as leader.
Calm.
Firm.
Behind him—
The clan thrived.
Third Scene
A child.
Black-haired.
"Uncle!"
He ran forward.
Zhang Lin smiled.
Gently.
Then—
A grave.
Carrots placed carefully.
His hand trembled.
"…Wei…"
"…I'm sorry."
"…I couldn't protect you."
Silence shattered the hall.
Wei's eyes narrowed.
Again…
The orb turned deep green.
"A heart of a leader."
Zhang Lin stepped back—
Immediately positioning himself slightly in front of Wei.
Protective.
His gaze swept the hall.
Cold.
Warning.
No one missed it.
Zhang Lie followed.
Zhang Lie
His steps were heavier.
His hand—
Firm.
Scenes unfolded
Training with his father.
Marriage with Fei Fei.
Then—
A child.
Crying.
A woman—face blurred—handing him over.
"…Take care of him."
"Mom—!"
She left.
Zhang Lie held the child.
Silently.
Broken.
The hall was no longer whispering.
Now—
They watched.
Closely.
Because everything—
Was beginning to connect.
Finally—
"Zhang Wei."
Zhang Wei stepped forward.
The hall held its breath.
His robe—light, soft, almost fragile—shifted faintly as he moved. His hair fell loosely over his shoulders, pale under the lantern light.
He didn't hesitate.
His hand touched the orb.
First Scene
A child.
Five years old.
Running through a manor filled with white roses.
Laughter.
Grandpa Tang beside him.
Carefree.
Bright.
Second Scene
A tree.
White hair.
Older.
Holding a child.
"…Daddy, why are we hiding?"
Wei smiled faintly.
"Quiet."
Elder Mi passed by.
Searching.
The child giggled.
"…You cheated!"
A woman appeared.
"Mummy!"
The child ran.
Wei looked up.
Across the distance—
Zhang Lin.
Zhang Lie.
Sang Sang.
Fei Fei.
And—
Zhang Ning.
Standing beside a woman.
All of them—
Together.
Waiting.
Third Scene
Darkness.
Encircled.
Voices shouting—
"Catch him alive!"
Wei stood alone.
Dressed in dim gold.
Exhausted.
Cornered.
No escape.
He lifted his sword.
Placed it against his neck.
Cut.
Deep.
Blood fell silently.
He smiled.
Soft.
Relieved.
As if—
Seeing them one last time—
Was enough.
"WEI—!"
Zhang Lin surged forward instinctively.
The illusion shattered.
The orb flickered violently.
The hall—
Was dead silent.
No whispers.
No breath.
Only—
Shock.
Fear.
And something far worse—
Understanding.
Because whatever this artifact showed—
It wasn't random anymore.
It was connected.
And at the center of it all—
Was Zhang Wei.
(Side Hall — When Fate Refuses to Stay Still)
Silence did not return.
It deepened.
The kind of silence that pressed against the chest—tight, suffocating—because no one knew what to say anymore.
Zhang Wei's final scene still lingered in their minds.
The blood.
The smile.
The end that felt too… willing.
No one moved.
Then—
The two white-robed girls frowned.
Not in fear.
Not in shock.
But in confusion.
The gentle one stepped forward slightly, her brows knitting together.
"…That shouldn't happen."
The colder one narrowed her eyes at the orb, then at Wei.
"Place your hand on it again."
The command was soft—
But absolute.
A ripple moved through the hall.
"…Again?"
"…Is that even allowed?"
"…Did something go wrong?"
Zhang Lin's gaze sharpened instantly.
Zhang Lie stepped half a step forward.
But Wei—
Didn't resist.
He simply walked back.
Calm.
Too calm.
His robe brushed lightly against the floor again, that same soft pink fabric now feeling strangely out of place in a room filled with tension.
His fingers lifted.
Paused.
Then—
Touched the orb again.
This time—
It reacted differently.
Not a pulse.
A tremor.
The light flickered—
Unstable.
And then—
The Scene Changed
A courtyard.
Bright.
Peaceful.
Zhang Wei stood there—
Kneeling.
Younger.
His head lowered slightly.
Before him—
A man.
His father.
Wei bit his lip faintly.
"…Sorry."
The apology was soft.
Too soft.
The man sighed, rubbing his temple as if burdened by something deeper than anger.
Behind him—
Elder Mi stood, holding a half-eaten carrot, his other hand gripping his cane tightly.
His expression—
Twisted.
Not in rage.
But something dangerously close.
Zhang Mi stood in front of Wei protectively, her posture firm, arguing with Elder Mi like a mother shielding her child.
"…He's still young—"
"And that's exactly the problem!" Elder Mi snapped.
The scene shattered.
Second Scene
A grand hall.
Vast.
Golden pillars.
Silk banners.
Power.
Wei stood at the center.
Alone.
"…No."
His voice echoed.
Clear.
"I, Zhang Wei, will not marry any princess, my lord."
The hall stirred.
"The Zhang clan has already surrendered the treasure to the court. Yet you kidnapped me behind my father's back—without my family's knowledge—"
His gaze lifted.
"And now you force me into becoming your daughter's concubine?"
His tone—
Still gentle.
But unyielding.
"The Zhang clan has never bowed its head to anyone."
A pause.
"Neither will I."
A minister stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"My lord, the Zhang family has always cherished this son. Though born of a concubine, he is still dear to them."
A faint smile.
Cold.
"We can use him."
Wei's eyes sharpened.
"You dare."
The air snapped.
"Hold him."
Guards moved instantly.
Wei struggled—
But his weakened state betrayed him.
"Since he refuses… we will force him."
A vial appeared.
"Puppet poison."
The word alone chilled the hall.
They forced it into him.
The entire side hall watching the vision—
Fell silent.
No one breathed.
Wei coughed.
Blood.
But still—
He moved.
His hand trembled—
Reaching inside his robe.
A small dagger.
He drove it into his own shoulder.
The sound—
Sickening.
"I said…"
Blood ran down his arm.
"You cannot force me to do anything… without my permission."
Even the ministers faltered.
The scene flickered—
Third Scene
A prison.
Dark.
Cold.
Wei sat against the wall.
Exhausted.
Broken—
But not bent.
A woman in gold walked away from the cell.
Her steps slow.
Uninterested.
Then—
Another figure appeared.
Blurred.
A hand reached for his.
"Come."
They ran.
Through shadows.
Through chaos.
The distant sound of battle echoed.
Wei stumbled slightly.
"…Who are you?"
The figure turned.
Still obscured.
But her voice—
Clear.
"I'm your future wife."
The hall erupted—
Not loudly—
But in shock that rippled like a wave.
"…Future—?!"
"…Another one?!"
"…What is going on—"
Wei froze.
Not in the vision—
But in reality.
Because this—
Didn't align.
Then—
"Sang Sang!"
Her voice broke through.
In the vision—
She ran toward him.
Zhang Lin beside her.
"Let's go home."
Wei turned—
The blurred woman—
Gone.
Just like that.
The scene ended.
The orb dimmed.
But didn't settle.
It flickered—
As if unsure of its own answer.
Wei withdrew his hand slowly.
His expression—
Still calm.
But his eyes—
Sharp.
Focused.
Suspicious.
He looked at the two girls.
Then—
At the orb.
"…This thing."
He didn't finish.
But the meaning was clear.
Across the hall—
Ji Lin let out a low whistle.
"…Now that—was interesting."
He leaned slightly toward Ji Yao, a grin forming despite the tension.
"Either fate really likes him…"
A pause.
"Or someone's playing games."
Ji Yao didn't respond immediately.
But his gaze—
Was locked on Wei.
Unmoving.
Analyzing.
Because unlike the others—
He noticed it too.
Inconsistency.
Meanwhile—
The Zhang family—
Had already shifted.
Zhang Lin stepped forward.
Zhang Lie followed.
Their formation tightened around Wei.
Protective.
Hostile.
Because one thing—
Was now clear.
The enemy—
Was no longer hidden.
"…The royal family…"
Zhang Lie's voice was low.
Dangerous.
No one denied it.
No one argued.
Even the elders—
Remained silent.
Because what they had just seen—
Was not a possibility.
It was a warning.
"Zhang Wei."
Elder Mi called.
Wei stepped back into formation.
Calm.
But his mind—
Was not.
Because unlike the others—
He understood something deeper.
Some of it… was real.
But some of it…
Wasn't.
The orb flickered faintly behind him.
As if watching.
As if waiting.
And for the first time—
Zhang Wei felt it clearly.
This wasn't just a test.
It was manipulation.
(Side Hall — The Weight of an Unwritten Fate)
The hall did not recover.
Not after what they had seen.
Not after what had been revealed—
And unrevealed.
The orb flickered faintly, its milky glow no longer steady. For the first time since the test began, it looked… unstable.
The two white-robed disciples did not move immediately.
Instead—
They watched Zhang Wei.
Openly.
The gentle one's brows remained slightly furrowed, her calm now touched with unease.
The colder one, however—
Watched with something else.
Interest.
"…Someone interfered."
Her voice was low, but it carried.
A ripple passed through the elders.
But she didn't explain further.
Because despite that—
They continued.
The orb pulsed again.
Faint.
Uncertain.
Then—
"A core of light… and purity."
The gentle girl's voice was softer than before.
"A heart meant to shine… in times when blood will fall."
A pause.
The hall leaned in.
"…But in the end…"
The second girl continued.
"…he must return to where he never existed."
The words dropped like ice.
"Because—"
Her gaze fixed on Wei.
"—he was never meant to exist in the first place."
Silence.
Not shock.
Not confusion.
Something deeper.
Discomfort.
The image—
That final image—
Of Zhang Wei cutting his own throat—
Echoed again.
Clearer now.
Louder.
Some disciples lowered their eyes.
Others—
Did not hide their expressions.
Pity.
Relief.
Even—
Satisfaction.
Because the Zhang family—
Was not loved by all.
"…So that's his fate…"
"…Tragic…"
"…Or convenient…"
The whispers returned.
Zhang Wei stood still.
Too still.
His gaze moved slowly across the hall.
Faces.
Reactions.
Judgment.
Then—
Back to the orb.
Unblinking.
"His fate is tragic," the gentle girl added quietly.
"Even destiny struggles to alter a path like this."
Her voice wavered—just slightly.
"…A cruel fate… often carries purpose."
The colder one tilted her head slightly.
Studying him.
"…You."
She stepped closer.
Close enough that the faint scent of cold incense clung to the air around her.
"Are meant to die."
A pause.
"…To bring peace between two sides."
The words did not echo.
They settled.
Heavy.
Irrefutable.
The hall grew colder.
Zhang Lie stepped forward instantly.
"Don't cross the line."
His voice cut sharp.
Dangerous.
Zhang Lin's presence shifted as well—
Subtle—
But enough to make nearby disciples step back instinctively.
Protective.
Hostile.
But the girl didn't flinch.
Instead—
She smiled faintly.
"…This is not the first time."
Her gaze shifted.
Toward Jang.
"The first… was like you."
The hall followed her gaze.
Jang stood still.
Expression unreadable.
But his fingers—
Tightened.
"His brother died," she continued calmly.
"To protect the last surviving child of his family."
A pause.
"To bring peace."
Her eyes returned to Wei.
Sharp now.
Curious.
"Will you do the same?"
The question hung in the air.
No one spoke.
Because no one could.
Even the elders—
Remained silent.
Zhang Wei felt it then.
Not just attention.
Not just pressure.
But something deeper.
Exposure.
As if something within him—
Something hidden—
Had been dragged into the open.
You were never meant to exist.
The words echoed again.
And for a brief moment—
His calm—
Cracked.
Not outwardly.
But inside.
Was it true?
Was he… an anomaly?
Something misplaced in a story that wasn't his?
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
But his face—
Remained unchanged.
Elder Mi moved.
Sharp.
Decisive.
"Enough."
His voice carried authority that cut through everything.
"We're leaving."
No discussion.
No delay.
The Zhang formation tightened immediately.
Zhang Lin stepped beside Wei.
Zhang Lie slightly ahead.
The sisters close behind.
A wall.
A shield.
As they turned—
The eyes followed.
Every single one.
Wei didn't look back at them.
Only—
At the orb.
Still flickering.
Still watching.
Manipulation…
The thought settled deeper now.
Because what he saw—
What they all saw—
Was not entirely truth.
Nor entirely lie.
Which made it—
Far more dangerous.
As they stepped out of the hall—
The noise faded behind them.
But the weight—
Did not.
Zhang Wei walked in silence.
His steps steady.
His expression calm.
But his thoughts—
Unsettled.
Was I really meant to die…?
The question lingered.
Not in fear.
But in quiet disbelief.
Because deep down—
He already knew something.
If fate demanded his death—
Then perhaps—
He would simply have to defy it.
The room felt smaller than it should have.
Not by space—but by weight.
The air had thickened, heavy with unspoken fear and quiet restraint. Even the soft curtains by the window, usually swaying gently with the mountain breeze, now hung still as if the wind itself had chosen not to intrude.
Zhang Wei sat at the center.
Cross-legged.
Silent.
His white robe, freshly changed, draped neatly over his frame, the fabric soft and light—but beneath him, the wooden floor had begun to frost over. Thin veins of pale ice stretched outward like delicate cracks, barely visible unless one looked closely.
And yet—
No one missed it.
Fei Fei sat opposite him, her posture straight, her usual warmth nowhere to be found. Her white robes, embroidered faintly with orange threads, seemed dimmer in this cold. Her fingers rested on her knees, but they were tense—slightly curled, as if holding back something.
Her eyes didn't leave him.
"Zhang Wei…" her voice was low, controlled, but edged with something sharp, "…control yourself."
The words weren't loud.
But they carried weight.
Wei lowered his gaze, his lashes casting faint shadows against his pale skin. He didn't argue. Didn't even try.
"…I'm trying," he murmured.
But even as he said it, the cold beneath him deepened slightly—just enough to make Zhang Lin's eyes narrow.
Zhang Lin stood to the side, arms folded, his dim red robes heavier than the others', the gold lining catching faint light from the lantern. His presence was steady, like a rooted tree—but his gaze was sharp.
"Do you wish for your lifespan to shorten?" he asked.
Not harsh.
Not gentle.
Just… truth.
Wei's fingers tightened slightly against his sleeves.
He remembered.
The freezing.
The pulse.
The way his core reacted when his emotions slipped.
"…No," he said softly, then nodded, more firmly this time.
Fei Fei inhaled slowly, then spoke again, her tone no longer questioning.
"From today… you are not allowed to touch any sharp weapon."
The room fell silent.
Zhang Lie, who had been leaning lazily against the wall, straightened slightly, his dark robes shifting with a soft rustle. His sharp eyes flickered between them.
"He's a warrior," Zhang Lie said, voice calm but firm. "He can't stay without a weapon."
Elder Mi, who had been standing near the window, finally turned.
The faint light from outside outlined his figure, his robes loose, flowing softly, untouched by the tension in the room.
"Not all warriors fight with blades," he said.
His voice was quiet.
But final.
Everyone stilled.
Wei didn't lift his head—but something in his chest tightened.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Something else.
Elder Mi stepped forward slowly, his gaze sweeping across the four siblings.
"We study now," he continued. "We cannot trust everything the orb has shown us… but we cannot ignore it either."
The word orb lingered.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
"The royal family… is no longer to be trusted fully. We avoid unnecessary contact."
Zhang Lin's jaw tightened slightly.
Zhang Lie's eyes darkened.
Fei Fei's fingers clenched.
Sang Sang—quiet until now—lowered her gaze, her gray-blue robes soft against her skin, her newly regained sight flickering with unease.
"And Zhang Wei…" Elder Mi paused, his eyes finally settling on him.
"…will be under strict protection."
Wei's shoulders stiffened slightly.
Not surprise.
He expected it.
"…Not because his fate is tragic," Elder Mi added, voice lowering, "but because the first vision is uncertain."
Silence.
"The moment of his death… was not clear. But what surrounded him… was."
Blood.
War.
Sacrifice.
No one said it aloud.
They didn't need to.
Wei's fingers curled tighter into his robe.
So this was it.
Not weakness.
Not pity.
He was a… variable.
An unknown.
And that made him dangerous.
"…Understood," Zhang Lin said finally.
Zhang Lie nodded once.
Fei Fei didn't speak—but her eyes softened slightly as she glanced at Wei.
Sang Sang shifted closer to him, just enough for her sleeve to brush lightly against his arm—a silent reassurance.
Wei nodded slowly.
"…I understand."
But inside—
Something twisted.
For the first time… he truly questioned it.
Why am I here?
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
He wasn't meant to live long.
He was a minor character.
A passing shadow in his brother's novel.
So why—
Why was he still here?
Why did everything keep changing around him?
Why did the world seem to bend… just slightly… wherever he went?
His chest tightened.
What is my purpose…?
Downstairs—
The atmosphere was no less tense.
The wooden hall buzzed with low murmurs, voices carefully restrained but impossible to silence. Disciples from various clans sat in small groups, their robes a mix of colors—deep blues, forest greens, ash grays—each fabric reflecting their clan's identity.
But today—
No one focused on status.
Only rumors.
"The orb doesn't lie…"
"It shows possibilities…"
"But it can be twisted…"
A middle-aged elder stroked his beard thoughtfully, his tone calm but carrying authority.
"The future it reveals… is not fixed. Sometimes… it shows what must be prevented, not what will happen."
Ji Lin clicked his tongue, leaning back lazily in his seat, though his sharp eyes betrayed his interest.
"So the white-haired boy…" he muttered, "…either becomes a disaster… or prevents one."
Ji Yao, seated beside him, didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained distant, thoughtful.
"…Or both," he said quietly.
The table fell silent for a moment.
Another elder spoke, voice lower.
"His fate is tragic. That much is certain."
"But if his life is the price for many others to live…"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
The implication settled heavily.
Around the hall, whispers spread again—quieter this time.
More cautious.
Some eyes held curiosity.
Some held fear.
And some—
Calculation.
Upstairs—
Zhang Wei sat still.
The frost beneath him slowly began to recede.
Not gone.
But controlled.
For now.
His breathing steadied.
His thoughts didn't.
But one thing became clear—
Whether he wanted it or not…
He was no longer just a boy trying to survive quietly.
He was part of something bigger.
Something dangerous.
And somewhere deep within him—
Beneath the fear.
Beneath the confusion.
A small, fragile thought surfaced—
If I have to live…
Then I need to understand why.