Dawn broke pale and soundless over Taiching Sect.The rain had stopped, but the air still carried thunder's taste.Xu Pingsheng followed Elder Qinghe through corridors that climbed toward the highest peak.Each step felt borrowed.
Beyond the last arch waited the Inner Council Hall—a ring of stone balconies open to the sky.Twelve seats stood around a circular slab of black crystal.Above it, a fragment of the Heaven's Roll floated, its surface etched with living names that burned and faded like breathing.
When they entered, the light from those names bent toward him.
"Xu Pingsheng," intoned the eldest councilor, a woman whose hair was white but eyes clear as glass."You have touched Heaven's Record twice in as many days. The mountain feels it."
Qinghe bowed. "The boy acted from instinct, not rebellion."
"Instinct writes rebellion faster than thought," another elder said.He turned to Pingsheng. "Do you know what this place is?"
"The heart of the Sect," Pingsheng said.
"The hand of Heaven," the elder corrected."We keep the Roll alive. We weigh each life against the threads it tugs. Yours has no weight—it cuts."
The slab before them shimmered.Dozens of Nether Threads appeared, stretching out into mist.Each bore a faint glow where it touched a mortal name.At the center was a darker coil, half-severed, spinning against the current.
"That is you," said the white-haired woman.
Pingsheng's pulse matched its turn.He saw, for a blink, his parents' names dim and drift upward like embers.The coil below snapped, and the entire pattern trembled.
"Every time you move that wheel of yours," she said, "the Record fractures. If it breaks again, the towns tied to your fate will follow."
Pingsheng's hands tightened. "So the Roll doesn't just record. It controls."
Qinghe's breath caught. The elders looked at each other, as if the word had been a blade.
One said softly, "The Roll is Heaven's Will made visible. To speak of control is to stand outside it."
"Then maybe that's where I belong," Pingsheng said.
The black crystal groaned.A dozen names flared and went out.Lanterns along the walls guttered blue, the same blue as his shards.
"Enough!" a voice thundered.The slab steadied, though a thin crack now ran through its center.
When silence settled, the white-haired elder leaned forward."Elder Qinghe, you will take responsibility. The boy cannot remain unbound."
Qinghe inclined his head. "He will not run."
"See that he doesn't," another said. "He is to leave the Sect within three days—under your supervision. Retrieve the missing fragment of the Roll from the Ruins of Lingyuan. If he returns alive, Heaven may reconsider his line."
Pingsheng frowned. "You're sending me out."
"Consider it mercy," the elder said. "Outside these walls, Heaven sees less clearly."
He met Qinghe's eyes. The old man's calm was a mask barely tied."You knew this was coming," Pingsheng said.
Qinghe's answer was a single nod."The Roll calls it the First Trial. Complete it, and perhaps the threads will stop chasing you."
"And if I fail?"
"Then they'll hang the Lantern that bears your name."
The council dismissed them with a gesture.As they stepped back into the cold sunlight, the crack across the crystal widened by the width of a breath.
On the path down, Li Yan waited by the stairs, holding two travel satchels."Let me guess," he said. "We're going somewhere stupid."
"Lingyuan Ruins," Pingsheng said.
Li Yan whistled low. "That's not stupid. That's suicidal."
Pingsheng looked toward the clouds below.Somewhere beyond them, towns still slept under their Lanterns.Somewhere, a thousand Threads pulled in rhythm with a law he no longer trusted.
He touched the shards in his sleeve.They pulsed once, bright as promise.
If Heaven decrees the path, he thought, I'll walk where it can't see.
The wheel turned.
— End of Chapter 5 —