Heaven was never silent.
It hummed with destiny.
Clouds of pale gold drifted endlessly across the sky, carrying whispers of future wars, forgotten loves, and lives yet to be born. Immortals walked upon jade paths as though fate itself bent beneath their feet.
At the center of it all stood the Fate Tree.
Its roots pierced the void, its branches threaded through every realm—Heaven, Mortal World, and the Abyss. Each leaf bore a name. Each bloom marked a turning point in destiny.
The tree rustled softly.
Then—
It stopped.
A tall figure approached.
The immortals nearby instinctively stepped back, robes whispering in unease. Some turned away. Others clenched their fists.
Ye walked beneath the Fate Tree.
The leaves did not glow.
The branches did not bend.
Instead, they leaned away—as if avoiding him.
A murmur spread.
"Why doesn't the Fate Tree respond?"
"Is it broken?"
"No… it's avoiding him."
Ye did not look up.
He never did.
Dressed in black robes that swallowed light, he moved with calm precision, as though Heaven itself was merely a place he passed through—not a home he belonged to.
Someone whispered the word they never said aloud.
"Demon."
Ye stopped.
Not because the word hurt—but because he felt it.
A shift.
A disturbance in fate.
Across the jade bridge, a young fairy stumbled.
"Careful!" another fairy cried.
Too late.
She fell.
Ye moved before thought.
He reached out, catching her wrist just before she struck the ground. For a heartbeat, their eyes met.
Her eyes were clear—like morning light after rain.
Something ancient inside him stirred.
Pain followed immediately.
Invisible seals burned across his soul, sharp and unforgiving.
He released her at once.
"I—thank you," the fairy said breathlessly, steadying herself. She smiled. "What's your name?"
Ye opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Not because he didn't know the answer.
Because fate would not allow it.
Before the silence grew strange, another fairy pulled her away. "Come on, Ling Yue. The Mother Goddess is calling."
Ling Yue.
The name echoed inside him like a bell struck in another lifetime.
Ye turned away.
Above them, unseen by all but one—
Hua Yun, the Mother Goddess, watched from the high terrace.
Her expression was unreadable.
"Still you remember her," she murmured. "Even when you should not."
An elder god approached her side. "Why does Heaven still tolerate him?"
Hua Yun's gaze did not move.
"Because," she said quietly, "some shadows are necessary."
Far below, Ling Yue paused and glanced back.
She didn't know why.
She only felt—as if she had forgotten something important.
Ye stood alone beneath the Fate Tree.
For the first time in a thousand years—
A single leaf trembled.
And fell.