Chapter 4: Heaven's Ink
Night cloaked the Cloudveil Sect like a heavy veil. Lanterns flickered in the courtyards, casting long shadows along the worn stone paths. Disciples had already returned to their quarters, but Li Tianyu sat beneath the old Spirit Willow in the quiet library garden, his Life Script Panel glowing softly before him.
He couldn't focus.
Her words repeated in his mind: "I don't have one."
And worse — "I'm the original draft."
What did that even mean?
He had assumed the Life Script Panel was a secret weapon bestowed only to him — a gift, or maybe a curse, but one that made him unique. But now… someone else had knowledge of it. Someone outside the script.
He had searched the Cloudveil archives all afternoon, using vague questions and code terms to avoid suspicion from any elders. Still, he found nothing about "Heaven's Ink." Not in the scrolls, not in the sect's forbidden texts, not even in the dream-scrying stones.
He needed answers. So, he did the only thing he could.
He asked the panel.
> Query: Heaven's Ink
The golden scroll paused for a moment longer than usual — almost like it was… reluctant.
Then it responded:
> Heaven's Ink: A primordial force older than the Heavenly Dao, capable of writing existence itself. Those born from Heaven's Ink do not possess a predetermined fate. They exist outside the divine script, unbound by karma, prophecy, or rebirth.
Warning: Entities linked to Heaven's Ink are immune to script manipulation. Interaction risk: EXTREME.
Tianyu stared at the message. So that girl… wasn't just another cultivator. She was born outside the system. A blank slate. A living paradox.
He didn't know whether to fear her — or envy her.
But something else caught his eye.
> Related Term Detected: "Original Draft."
Access restricted. Requires: Fate Insight Level 3.
He cursed under his breath. He was still only at Level 1. That meant he needed to alter at least ten more fate threads, or survive a Karmic Reversal to unlock deeper access.
Then suddenly—his panel glitched.
The golden glow dimmed, flickered, and shifted to ink-black for just a heartbeat.
A new message appeared, written in a different handwriting entirely.
> "Stop looking. Some truths write you back."
Tianyu's heartbeat quickened. He dismissed the panel immediately.
The script had been hacked again.
For the first time, he realized something terrifying.
> He was not the only one reading fate. Someone — or something — might be reading his.
---
The next morning, Tianyu left the sect without permission, wrapping himself in a traveling cloak. If the Cloudveil Sect couldn't give him answers, perhaps the Outer Archives — the ruins of a fallen scriptorium in the Valley of Ink — could.
It was an old ruin, once used by fate scribes from the ancient Lotus Ink Sect, long buried in a heavenly war. Rumor had it their scribes wrote on silk made from starlight and blood, predicting futures that even Heaven feared.
Tianyu stood at the entrance of the collapsed temple by midday. Weeds grew between shattered statues. Ink-stained bones of old cultivators littered the floor.
But as he stepped inside, something happened.
The Life Script Panel opened on its own.
Only this time, it wasn't his.
It was hers.
The girl.
But it wasn't golden. It was black — pure, flowing ink that twisted in midair, resisting all order.
No name. No fate. No history.
Only one word:
> "Observer."
Then he saw something terrifying.
In the center of the ruined hall was a massive, sealed mural. On it was a painting — a figure in gold robes holding a script scroll in one hand and a black quill in the other.
> It was him.
But the script he was writing wasn't his own.
He was writing someone else's ending.
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✅ Word count: ~650 words