"I still have one concern," said one of the elders, folding his hands on the table. "Instead of orchestrating a reunion between Su Mu and Wang Xian, why not just send in our own operatives? After all, our personnel are more loyal, more capable, and—let's be frank—likely more… persuasive than some small-town ex-girlfriend. The boy is in his twenties. It wouldn't take much to turn his head."
There was a pause.
Then the elder in charge chuckled softly, his voice calm but firm. "We considered that. But you're looking at this through an outdated lens. The world has changed. Power is no longer only political or military. Personal force—true personal force—can now rival nations. If Wang Xian achieves that level of strength, and one day learns we manipulated him from the start… what do you think happens then?"
"He turns on us," someone said quietly.
"Exactly. And if he's capable of leveling a city with a gesture by then, we won't have the luxury of regrets."
"But aren't we manipulating him anyway?" asked another.
"We are," the elder admitted, smiling. "But context matters. If we send in a handler, and he finds out, that's betrayal. But if Su Mu—his first love—returns to his life… and it just so happens she's aligned with us… Well, we're not villains in that story. We're the ones who helped lovers reunite."
There were chuckles of understanding. Heads nodded.
"Hah! Clever," one elder laughed. "He finds out years later, we just shrug and say: 'What? We supported your love story!' The boy would never be able to fault us outright."
"As long as their bond is real," another added cautiously. "Are we sure Wang Xian still cares for her?"
"Yes," the elder confirmed. "Our analysts reviewed their communication logs in detail. The emotional connection is still strong—just faded, not broken. A little spark, and it'll catch fire again."
"Then let's proceed."
A show of hands followed. Unanimous approval.
They moved on to the next topic.
Meanwhile…
"Uncle! Uncle, wake up!" Cheng Yao's voice was urgent.
Wang Xian stirred under the tree. He blinked, still groggy. "Yaoyao? What is it? Goblins again?"
"No! Look! A meteor! In broad daylight!" she pointed at the sky, eyes wide.
Wang Xian squinted upward, confused. "Meteor? In daytime?"
But then he saw it too—and his jaw slowly dropped.
High above, cutting through the bright blue sky, was a glowing streak of silver flame. A meteor—clear as day—trailing an iridescent tail, brighter than the sun itself.
"It's… actually kind of beautiful," Cheng Yao whispered.
"It's alright," Wang Xian muttered distractedly. "Though I've seen grander." In his mind, scenes from his past life flashed—he remembered calling down meteor showers that turned battlefields into craters.
Cheng Yao didn't notice. She was already pressing her palms together, eyes closed. "I'm making a wish. Don't peek!"
Wang Xian rolled his eyes—but something odd caught his attention. He continued to stare at the meteor, brows furrowing.
"…Yaoyao. Doesn't it look… bigger now?"
Cheng Yao glanced up. "Huh… yeah, it does. Weird."
They watched it together, silently.
A minute passed.
"It's still getting bigger," Cheng Yao said.
"Definitely closer too," Wang Xian added.
Another moment.
"Uncle," Cheng Yao said, half-joking, half-nervous, "should we, uh… maybe start running?"
Wang Xian didn't answer right away. Then, calmly: "No point. If that thing really hits here, the whole city's gone. Besides, we've got resurrection, remember?"
Cheng Yao nodded, trying to laugh. "True. Worst case, we come back. It might even be… kinda romantic? Dying under a meteor with you?"
Wang Xian side-eyed her. "You're insane."
"I'm a girl of culture," she replied with a smug grin.
But something wasn't right.
As the meteor approached, it shrank. By the time it pierced the clouds and descended into the lower atmosphere, it had gone from the size of a skyscraper… to a car… to a football.
And when it landed—barely a hundred meters from them—it didn't explode. It didn't rumble the earth. It made no sound at all.
It simply… touched down.
Soft. Silent.
No shockwave. No light. No fire. Nothing.
"…That's not normal," Wang Xian muttered.
Cheng Yao looked disappointed. "I kind of wanted to go out in a blaze of glory."
"Don't worry," Wang Xian said, grabbing her hand. "Maybe it's not a meteor. Maybe it's a treasure."
"A treasure?!"
"Possibly even an artifact."
Cheng Yao's eyes sparkled. She immediately jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Go! Run, Uncle, run! To glory!"
"…This girl is going to be the death of me," Wang Xian muttered, but started sprinting anyway.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the impact site—a quiet, half-dug lake surrounded by overgrown reeds. No crater. No damage.
Nothing… except a single, stunning flower.
The petals shimmered with starlight, a dozen hues dancing across its surface. It glowed faintly, even in the sun. And it was utterly, completely out of place.
Cheng Yao gasped. "Uncle… is that it?"
"Has to be," Wang Xian replied, approaching carefully. "Nothing else here. And that flower doesn't belong in this biome."
They stared at it in silence.
Wang Xian had seen a lot of strange things in two lives.
But a meteor that turned into a flower?
This was new.
And he had a feeling—deep in his bones—that this wasn't just a treasure.
It was a message.
Or maybe… a warning.