The moon spilled its quiet glow across the courtyard.
Its light rested upon every stone and leaf — serene, cold, eternal.
A soft wind whispered through the empty corridors of the Zhou estate, carrying with it the fading fragrance of wine and silk.
The banquet had ended; the laughter and music had long dissolved into silence.
Inside a dim chamber, Zhou Fang stood by the window, his gaze locked upon the moon.
Emma hovered beside him, her faint luminescent form rippling gently like a candle flame within glass.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Only the wind moved — and the quiet pulse of thoughts beneath Zhou Fang's calm eyes.
Emma: "What troubles you, Zhou Fang? You seem… far away."
Zhou Fang: "Far away?"
He gave a low, distant smile. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I'm merely closer to something I shouldn't yet see."
Emma tilted her head, her voice soft. "Then speak it. I'll try to answer."
Zhou Fang looked toward her — his expression was calm, but his eyes reflected the moon's ancient stillness.
"Emma, if I asked something that lies beyond your limits, would you still try?"
Emma hesitated, but nodded.
"Yes."
Zhou Fang exhaled, almost as if releasing the last fragment of hesitation within him.
"Tell me then — the ones who watch the Mortal Realm from the outside… they came because of me, didn't they?"
The question dropped like a stone into still water.
Emma's light flickered.
She did not speak — but silence itself was an answer.
Zhou Fang's eyes narrowed slightly, and his tone was neither bitter nor emotional, merely coldly observant.
"I thought so. Their movements are too precise. Every attack, every shift — calculated around my existence.
But Emma… they are not the core, are they?
They're just shadows cast by something greater — something that stands above immortals."
Emma's faint glow dimmed. "Zhou Fang, this line of thought is dangerous—"
He interrupted gently, "Truth always is."
A quiet pause.
Then, in a voice almost whispering to himself, he continued —
"When I think of my father, things no longer align.
He entered ruins meant for immortals. Yet they appeared in the mortal plane.
No immortal sensed it, no energy fluctuation. As if Heaven itself concealed the event."
Emma lowered her gaze, saying nothing.
Zhou Fang went on.
"Inside those ruins, he faced a dragon born of primordial fire.
That dragon could destroy even a Divine Tribulation cultivator with a breath.
Yet Father survived — not as an immortal, not even as a divine being. He survived as a mortal."
He looked at his own hand — calm, pale under the moonlight.
"Coincidence? No. Coincidence is just the mask of intention."
Emma whispered, "You think someone intervened?"
Zhou Fang smiled faintly.
"Not think — I know.
The Divine Flame chose my mother, but not him.
The ruins shifted their rules just to preserve their lives.
Every other soul vanished, yet they walked out untouched."
He looked at her again, eyes sharp but tranquil.
"Someone rewrote cause and effect itself.
Someone altered the ledger of Heaven."
Emma's lips parted, as though to speak — but no sound came.
Her aura trembled faintly; her thoughts were tangled between truth and obedience.
Finally, she whispered,
"Zhou Fang… if I told you everything now, you would lose more than you gain.
The truth isn't denied — it's simply delayed.
When you're ready, you'll remember it yourself."
Zhou Fang studied her silently.
The moonlight caught in his eyes, and for an instant, Emma felt a shiver.
He wasn't angry. He wasn't impatient.
Only calm — too calm.
That was what made him terrifying.
At last, Zhou Fang turned back toward the window.
The moon hung there, silent and watchful, like a god with closed eyes.
He said softly, almost to himself,
"To rewrite causality… to alter the balance between life and death — that's no minor act.
Even immortals can't defy the root of fate.
So who holds such power?"
He paused.
Then added, with a faint tone of realization —
"Or perhaps… who will hold it."
Emma's eyes widened faintly.
For a breathless moment, she nearly spoke her master's name — but stopped.
Something in her soul trembled, and the unseen mark upon her spirit pulsed faintly.
A warning. A restriction.
She bit her lip and whispered,
"…When the time comes, you'll understand."
Zhou Fang smiled slightly — a smile that held neither warmth nor cruelty, but a clear, cold comprehension.
"No need. The path will reveal itself, even if Heaven hides the road."
---
The wind grew colder.
The moonlight dimmed.
In that tranquil night, something unseen shifted —
a thread of destiny vibrated faintly across the fabric of reality.
Zhou Fang stood still, his shadow stretching long across the floor, touching the edge of Emma's fading glow.
He murmured quietly,
"If fate can be rewritten once, it can be rewritten again.
And this time, I'll be the one holding the pen."
The night deepened. The moon kept its silence.
And somewhere beyond the layers of reality, a figure watched — smiling faintly — as the cycle began to close upon itself once more.