Variables, Nothing in This World Is Fixed

Storm Cloud Bu infiltrating Ghost Hall is an extremely risky move. If he’s exposed, he’ll instantly become the enemy of both Ghost Hall and Liancastle, attacked from both sides. At that point, escaping from Liancastle would be nearly impossible...

Similarly, everything Serena does in Westlyn is walking a tightrope. If it weren’t for Little Dumpling acting as her protective talisman, all her skills would be useless here—she’d have no way to use them.

You have to understand, even before Serena reached Westlyn, every move she made was already under the surveillance of the Brocade Guard. Not only Princess Royal Helena, but even the Emperor of Westlyn paid close attention to her arrival.

The Emperor of Westlyn doesn’t believe Serena came all this way just to treat Evan. Politicians always complicate and twist things into conspiracies—Evan is Princess Royal Helena’s son, and the Emperor doesn’t think Serena is that kind-hearted.

A kind-hearted woman could never hold up her own household.

Thinking of the situation in Northlyn and Eastlyn, the Emperor sees Serena’s arrival as Eastlyn searching for allies in Westlyn, or trying to split Westlyn’s focus so they’re too busy to join the coming war and fight for a share.

But the Emperor thinks this way mainly because Serena’s identity is just too unusual. He can’t treat her like any ordinary woman, and he can’t see her arrival as just another trivial event.

So, as soon as he learned that Heir Ray was saved by Serena, the Emperor stopped expecting anything from Prince Duan.

The Emperor knows exactly how much Prince Duan cares about his son. When it comes to Ray, Prince Duan loses all discipline, and reality has proven the Emperor’s judgment right—a single, gentle test was enough to make Prince Duan lean toward Titus.

“National Preceptor, didn’t you say Ray was fated to die young? Why is he still alive?” Prince Duan’s requested imperial physician was intercepted by Princess Royal Helena, and the National Preceptor he wanted to see was kept behind by the Emperor.

The Old National Preceptor Xi, his hair entirely silver, was helped forward by his chief disciple. Trembling, he said gravely, “Your Majesty, I must admit—I can no longer read Heir Ray’s fate.”

“You can’t read it? Does that mean he’s destined to be the True Emperor?” The Emperor frowned, a cold glint in his eyes. As ruler, he deeply disliked anything that slipped beyond his control.

Old National Preceptor Xi shook his head. “No... Heir Ray and Prince Titus are the same—neither has ever carried True Dragon qi.”

“You say Titus has no True Dragon qi, but in my view, his position as Crown Prince only grows more secure.” The Emperor lowered his voice, a trace of anger leaking through.

Westlyn has always faced endless threats from outside, and now there’s trouble within. At this rate, who knows when it’ll join the ranks of the Nine Provinces Realm’s true powers.

“The dragon qi around Prince Titus is only borrowed, a false dragon aura—it won’t last.” Old National Preceptor Xi was completely confident; even as a discarded branch of the Fuller clan, he still had this much skill.

“Let’s hope you haven’t misread things, Preceptor.” The Emperor eased his pressure a little, then grew irritated again: “I’ve only got two sons—one dead, one without True Dragon qi. Does my empire have no one fit to inherit?”

It sounded like the Emperor was talking to himself, but in reality he was waiting for the Preceptor’s answer. Yet this time, Old National Preceptor Xi kept silent until pressed, then answered nervously, “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. As soon as that person appears, I’ll know—I’ll recognize them for sure.”

He wanted to know even more than the Emperor who in Westlyn truly carried the True Dragon qi—only then could his family ‘invest early’ and keep their honor for generations to come.

“Mm.” The Emperor thought of his own health, feeling a secret anxiety, but refused to show it in front of others. He pretended not to care and waved his hand: “Prince Duan must be getting impatient. Go check on him at Prince Duan’s Manor and put his mind at ease.”

Most importantly, they would report back to the Emperor and put his mind at ease. Why had Ray, who was fated to die young, survived—was there another calamity in his destiny yet to come?

The Old National Preceptor Xi wanted to know too. He had calculated for Prince Duan before: Duan was fated to have no sons, and Heir Ray’s face showed early death. Both predictions together should have been infallible.

Once outside the palace, the Preceptor’s chief disciple—his own grandson—asked, “Grandfather, has someone changed Heir Ray’s fate?”

The young man was dressed in black, his expression calm and eyes tranquil—like a master with no desires, his appearance was extremely deceptive.

“Ever since Crown Prince Lei’s accident, I’ve suspected that someone with a unique fate has appeared. Because of this person, many destinies have changed—like Princess Royal Helena and Crown Prince Titus.” The Preceptor’s dim eyes flashed with light. “Yixuan, remember: fate is never set in stone. It’s full of variables. What we see is only one possibility.”

It’s like seeing someone stand at a crossroads—if they choose the left path, everything that follows will relate to that choice.

But if, for some reason, that person chooses to go right, their fate changes—and so does the fate of everyone connected to them.

“I understand, Grandfather.” Yixuan nodded, but after a few steps, he paused again. “Grandfather, could that Lord Fu from Eastlyn actually be a descendant of our main family?”

“Impossible.” The Old National Preceptor’s face darkened, his tone absolute. “When our main family was driven out of the Nine Provinces Realm, they swore an oath: unless the Lans and the Fenglis begged for help, they’d never set foot in the realm again. All their books and divining compasses were destroyed, their tradition lost. Even if a main family member appeared, they wouldn’t know the arts of fate calculation.”

The Preceptor spoke quickly, breathless. After a pause to steady himself, he continued, “The main family lost their arts long ago. Even if they returned, they’d be third-rate at best, far inferior to us. In the Nine Provinces Realm, our Xi branch is the only true fate masters.”

The Preceptor glanced at his grandson, worried about his confidence, and said solemnly, “Yixuan, remember, the Fuller clan’s legend is history. Now, in the Nine Provinces Realm, only our branch can divine fate. Even if you meet a Fuller descendant, don’t belittle yourself or forget our branch’s pride.”

“I understand, Grandfather.” Yixuan replied, but he still felt uneasy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Lord Fu from Eastlyn was no ordinary man.

As a fate master, his instincts were always sharper than most.

The grandfather and grandson walked in silence—one thinking about Little Dumpling, the other about Fu Lin far away in Eastlyn. Different paths, same destination. Both wondered: what unexpected event had changed so many destinies from what they once predicted...?