Fate’s Scholar:Rewriting the Heavens

Zhao Wei adjusted his mask, glancing over at Xue Yan, who walked beside him in silence.

The shrine loomed ahead, its carved entrance nestled between two mountain cliffs. Two towering statues flanked the entrance, one before each mountain. Despite their weathered forms, the robed figures remained imposing. Just as they were about to step inside—

"You two, stop!"

The voice cut through the air like a blade. Zhao Wei froze, his eyes narrowing as a figure stepped out from the shadows of the trees. Behind him, a group of disciples emerged, clad in green robes embroidered with the sigil of the Emerald Sky Sect. At their center was Li Huangxi, smirking as sharply as ever, while at the front stood an elder whose aura made the air feel heavy.

"State your sect and purpose," the elder demanded, his sharp gaze lingering on Zhao Wei and Xue Yan.

Zhao Wei bowed slightly, his voice calm and composed. "We are from the Yin-Yang Palace, here to admire the architecture of this ancient shrine."

The elder's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "Yin-Yang Palace? I've never heard of such a sect. And why are you masked?"

"We are a secluded sect," Zhao Wei replied smoothly. "We avoid secular matters and are here only for experience."

The elder paused, seemingly lost in thought, before responding. "Fine. But don't stay too close to the shrine, or else." His furrowed brows warned of consequences.

Zhao Wei glanced at Li Huangxi, who didn't seem to recognize the duo. Lost in his own thoughts, Li Huangxi appeared oblivious to the tension. Zhao Wei laughed inwardly but turned his attention back to the elder.

Seems like we'll have to fight through them after all, Zhao Wei thought.

"Or else what?" Zhao Wei asked aloud, his tone sharp. He released his cultivation realm, causing the disciples before him to shudder—all except Li Huangxi and the elder.

"Peak of the Qi Condensation Realm?" The elder sneered. "Impressive, but you're 100 years too early to make threats."

The elder roared, gathering energy into his right hand as he dashed toward Zhao Wei. His strike landed—but was blocked by a barrier. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, the elder suddenly felt a surge of Qi beneath him. Glancing down, he saw a glowing symbol that brightened with each passing second. The elder's expression turned grim.

Looking at Zhao Wei, whose face was hidden behind a mask, the elder could still feel the smugness emanating from him.

Boom!

The ground beneath the elder exploded, debris shooting in all directions. Zhao Wei and Xue Yan remained protected, their robes warding off the blast.

The disciples froze, retreating slightly as worry and fear filled their faces. They stared at the settling dust, unsure of their elder's fate.

When the smoke cleared, an old man stood amidst the wreckage, his body bruised, his white hair singed. His top robes were torn to shreds, revealing a muscular physique.

Zhao Wei couldn't help feeling bitter. Not because his attack had failed to kill the elder, but because the 100-year-old man had a better physique than him.

"You'll regret this," the elder growled, his eyes blazing with fury. His Qi flared, radiating anger.

"Jade Dragon Dance: Jade Thrust!" he roared, dashing toward Xue Yan. Green afterimages trailed his movement.

"That's the Jade Palace's art!" one disciple exclaimed.

"Yeah, Elder Hui was a prodigy. He trained in the Jade Palace," another confirmed.

The disciples watched the battle, their shared thoughts echoing in unison: This fight is over.

The elder's strike landed, but Xue Yan was shielded by another barrier. Enraged, the elder unleashed a flurry of punches.

"Jade Dragon Dance: Jade Fury!"

The barrier cracked under the relentless assault. Seeing the danger, Zhao Wei pulled Xue Yan to his side, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow.

"You're both dead!" the elder roared again, launching another strike.

Unfazed, Zhao Wei began drawing on the ground. The elder's attack was met with another barrier. Frustration mounting, the elder's face twisted in anger as he noticed Zhao Wei's actions.

"You think petty tricks can stop me?" he spat, shattering the barrier with a powerful strike.

The elder's fist aimed for Zhao Wei's head. Just as he believed the battle was won, an overwhelming force pinned him in place. His body froze, drenched in cold sweat.

A black, inky manifestation of a crow appeared before him, its gaze mocking and unrelenting.

"True Qi realm? Impossible…" the elder stammered, his voice faltering.

"How did you do it?" he demanded.

Zhao Wei chuckled. "Let's just say I found a loophole."

Before the elder could respond, the crow let out a deafening screech, sending him flying back a hundred meters toward the disciples.

Paralyzed by the crow's oppressive aura, the disciples could only watch as their elder struggled to his feet. Realizing the situation, he barked an order for them to attack, but by then, Zhao Wei and Xue Yan were gone. Only the crow remained, its mocking gaze daring them to make a move.

"Run!" Zhao Wei shouted, grabbing Xue Yan's arm and dragging her toward the shrine's entrance as the crow's screech reverberated behind them, slamming into the elder.

As they sprinted toward the looming structure, the air behind them filled with the shouts of disciples and the sound of swords being drawn as they clashed with the crow.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Zhao Wei let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Well," he said, glancing at Xue Yan, "that could've gone worse."

She shot him a sharp glare but remained silent, her attention shifting to the ominous corridor ahead.

Zhao Wei and Xue Yan hurried down the narrow passageway, their footsteps echoing through the dimly lit corridor.

Noticing the tension thickening between them, Zhao Wei attempted to lighten the mood.

"I hope that crow scared them off for good," he muttered under his breath, half to himself.

He glanced at Xue Yan, hoping for a reaction, but her expression darkened even further. Realizing his effort had backfired, he fell silent.

[Are my jokes really that bad?] he thought, slightly dejected.

As they pressed forward, the corridor gradually opened into a vast chamber. The walls glimmered faintly, etched with glowing runes that seemed to pulse with a mysterious energy.

Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut, cutting off all sound from the outside.

For a moment, the air was still and heavy with tension. Then, the runes on the walls flared to life, their glow intensifying.

A deep, resonant voice filled the chamber, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.

"The Trial Begins."