Before the child was born, the Heavenly Daos sensed something was wrong.
They were not beings of flesh or thought, but laws given will—appointed to maintain order across the myriad worlds. For eras uncounted, destiny had flowed as written.
Tonight, it hesitated.
Karmic currents stuttered as if a hand far older than heaven itself had brushed past them. Fate neither broke nor bent—yet it refused to move forward.
Something has entered the cycle.
Its origin is concealed.
Its authority… cannot be measured.
The Heavenly Daos searched through timelines and reincarnation records.
They found only a blank.
Because the one descending was not bound by fate.
He was its origin.
The Xu Kingdom lay silent beneath a merciless sky.
For three long years, not a single drop of rain had fallen. The once-mighty rivers were reduced to cracked scars across the land. Even the Imperial Altar had lost its incense smoke, as prayers dried upon the lips of the faithful.
On this night, however, the Imperial Palace blazed with light.
Inside the Phoenix Hall, the Empress was in labor.
Outside, the Emperor of Xu paced relentlessly across the jade tiles, his imperial robes damp with sweat, his usual composure nowhere to be found.
"Breathe… just breathe…" he muttered, though he did not know whether he was speaking to himself or to the heavens.
Every cry from behind the doors struck his heart like a blade.
Ministers dared not approach. Eunuchs stood frozen. Even the five concubines waited in tense silence, their expressions carefully controlled.
The Emperor's hands clenched into fists.
He was the Son of Heaven—yet in this moment, he was nothing more than a husband waiting for his wife.
The night sky suddenly darkened.
Clouds gathered where none had existed.
Thunder rolled—not in anger, but in acknowledgment.
Then, from within the hall, a cry rang out.
Clear. Strong. Steady.
The doors burst open.
"A prince!" the midwife cried, voice trembling. "Your Majesty—it is a prince!"
At that instant, rain fell.
Not violently, but gently, like a blessing long withheld.
Across the Xu Kingdom, dry earth drank deeply. Rivers surged back to life. Fields soaked greedily as if awakened from death.
Flowers bloomed out of season—lotus in dust-filled ponds, plum blossoms upon bare branches.
High above the capital, the clouds parted.
A golden dragon coiled through the sky, vast and luminous, its roar silent yet shaking the heavens themselves.
The people knelt in the streets, tears streaming.
"The true Mandate has returned!"
The Emperor staggered, barely steadying himself as he rushed into the hall.