The Great Divination Array.
Fu Xuan hovered at its center, her eyes closed, surrounded by cryptic celestial diagrams. The Third Eye on her forehead glowed with profound wisdom, piercing through veils of uncertainty. The future—once shrouded in fog—now unfolded with startling clarity.
My master was right... Fate has but one path. Only by reaching the pinnacle of divination can one perceive this truth.
A cruel fate indeed.
After receiving the Third Eye bestowed by Nous, the Erudition Aeon, Fu Xuan's rationality had eclipsed her emotions. Now, she embodied the Grand Diviner the Luofu needed—not merely Fu Xuan, but a vessel of cold calculation.
Starlight shimmered in her eyes as she unraveled tangled threads of causality, truths once obscured now laid bare.
"An Ming…"
What future awaits us?
Fu Xuan felt no fear. The Third Eye existed precisely for this moment.
The Great Divination Array hummed to life. She reached out, fingertips brushing scattered violet motes—memories crystallizing from the past into visions of what was to come.
The fog lifted.
—A blade's edge, sharp enough to split the heavens, descended.
An Ming stood coldly before her, Wuyue in hand. With a merciless slash, the earth sundered. A fissure tore through the Jade Gate, splitting it in two.
"Senior Sister."
"Farewell."
All that remained was his retreating silhouette.
The vision shattered. Fu Xuan collapsed to her knees, agony searing her mind.
How…?
An Ming… will destroy the Jade Gate?
She dared not doubt the divination. Yet the pain of this fate gripped her heart.
Even forewarned, how could she alter it?
"No—An Ming would never!"
She clutched her head, torn between instinct and logic. The Third Eye's searing pain enforced its ironclad law:
Fate has only one road.
No choice could change the end.
"No… Please!"
A tear traced her cheek. The vision's clarity left no room for denial.
Whom to trust—fate, or the bond we've shared?
She had anticipated hardship, but not cruelty.
This Eye was not meant for surrender!
Fu Xuan pressed a hand to her chest. Memories surfaced—An Ming's earnest confession years ago, her own silence.
I choose to believe what my heart sees.
Even this bleak future… I will embrace him.
"Wait for me…"
Wiping blood from her nose, she forced the Array to spin anew. If agony could rewrite fate, she'd endure it—gladly.
Losing him would hurt a thousandfold more.
Age 21
Rebuilding Wuyue proved harder than anticipated. Though the blade was merely fractured, re-forging its unity defied all skill.
BOOM—!
The explosion jolted Enna awake at her post. She yawned, flipping to her other side.
Initially, she'd feared these blasts signaled escape attempts. Now she knew better—An Ming was just… terrible at blacksmithing.
Three months. Eighty-seven explosions. Master's courtyard walls resembled charcoal. Miraculously, the peach tree survived.
Coughing through smoke, An Ming staggered out. At least Wuyue's intact. No wonder only the Reignbow's arrow could break it.
The original materials and craftsmanship were peerless. His pathetic repairs dishonored the smith's legacy.
"Sigh."
"More fire? More iron? What's the trick?!"
Another explosion. At this rate, the yard would mirror post-Inundation battlefields. Master's ghost would beat him senseless with a fan.
Swordsmanship suits me better.
Under house arrest, An Ming divided time between forging failures, training, and cooking—Enna's culinary crimes demanded intervention.
Initially preparing solo meals, he'd relented after catching Enna drooling at his door: "Want some?"
"Bribery won't work!" she'd snapped. Next day, ingredients for two appeared.
Now outsiders might mistake her for the prisoner, him the indentured chef.
"Hey…"
Post-dinner, Enna fidgeted, cheeks faintly pink. The usually fierce Cloud Knight seemed… small before him.
"Your Senior Sister… Why hasn't she visited?"
An Ming's gaze darkened. Three years without word from Fu Xuan.
Enna reached out, hesitated, withdrew.
Who am I to comfort him?