What Determines the Ending Is Not a Few Sparse Lines in the History Books, but One's Own Choices and Strength

The room was brightly lit.

As Lu Jing listened to the seemingly casual yet subtly pointed question from the blonde girl beside him, his hand reaching for a skewer of meat paused almost imperceptibly.

He slowly raised his eyes. His calm gaze, far too mature for his age, met Qian Renxue's beautiful eyes, which held both expectation and probing. Rather than answering directly, he asked with almost cruel calmness, "Do you think you can't accomplish it?"

The faint smile on Qian Renxue's face froze slightly. Clearly, she had not expected Lu Jing to answer like that.

"If, before carrying it out, you have already planted the seed of 'possible failure' deep in your heart, harboring even the slightest hesitation or uncertainty..."

Lu Jing's voice was not loud, yet it was like an ice-tempered needle, piercing precisely through the relaxed atmosphere she had deliberately created. "Then I advise you to give up now. Don't do it."

The room instantly fell silent. Only the aroma of grilled meat continued to linger, seeming somewhat abrupt and out of place.

Qian Renxue's delicate brows drew together as she looked at the boy before her, who clearly had the body of a child but eyes as deep as a pool.

The certainty in his words did not stem from foreknowledge of the future. It was more like the sharpness of someone who could see through the human heart. In an instant, she understood that he had seen through her probing—and rebuffed it in a manner almost like a reprimand.

"I..."

Qian Renxue parted her crimson lips, her voice carrying a trace of barely perceptible difficulty as she softly asked, "Did I... fail?"

In the end, she had asked the question that had been circling her heart and keeping her awake at night. She needed confirmation—confirmation that this boy who claimed to be from the future truly knew of that secret operation that concerned both Spirit Hall and her personal fate.

Lu Jing looked at the tension and stubbornness hidden deep in her eyes, then suddenly smiled faintly. The smile was slight, carrying the understanding of someone who had weathered the years, yet it also held a strange power to soothe.

"Whether it ends in failure or success."

He set down the skewer of meat, which he had barely touched, and said in a calm yet highly persuasive tone, "Those are things that have not yet happened, a painting that has yet to unfold. They exist among countless 'possibilities,' not as an immutable 'certainty.'"

Lu Jing's gaze became focused and earnest, as though he wished to see through the girl before him and into the depths of her soul. "History is not writing carved into stone, impossible to change. What determines the final outcome is not a few sparse lines in the history books, but the choices, perseverance, and... absolute strength of those within it at every crossroads. As long as you handle what comes next steadily enough, think every step through carefully enough, possess firm enough resolve, and wield enough power..."

He paused slightly, emphasizing his next words. "Then even a failure that originally seemed inevitable may not be impossible for you to—change into success with your own hands."

He understood the deeper purpose behind Qian Renxue's "late-night visit."

Besides wanting to know her own fate, more importantly, she wanted to use the top-secret "Heaven Dou mission" as a touchstone to test whether his identity as a "visitor from ten thousand years in the future" was genuine.

Because she was utterly certain that such a significant historical event, whether it succeeded or failed, would surely be extensively recorded if Spirit Hall ultimately failed to unify the continent. In order to glorify the greatness and success of that "Shrek Ancestor," Tang San, this secret history of Spirit Hall's Holy Maiden infiltrating Heaven Dou with the intention of overthrowing it would undoubtedly become an indelible, weighty stroke in the history books.

If Lu Jing knew nothing about it or answered vaguely, then his lie about "coming from the future" would be exposed in an instant.

At that point, although Wang Dong'er and he still would not suffer any harm, the trust between them would greatly diminish. So, just in case, he had to employ the art of rhetoric—allowing Qian Renxue to continue her infiltration of the Heaven Dou Empire while also affirming that the identities of the two of them were genuine.

In truth, there was no other choice. Compared to the current Spirit Hall, the best option for Qian Renxue would be to do nothing and simply remain in Spirit Hall to cultivate. But the problem was, would doing so alter future history?

If it would not, then naturally it did not matter. But if it would, he would have to consider it carefully. After all, the most important reason Wang Dong'er and he had come here was because of Bei Bei and Tang Ya's pursuit.

Qian Renxue stared fixedly at Lu Jing, the light in her starry eyes flickering uncertainly.

Lu Jing's answer about how "the future can be changed" and "success depends on human effort" formed an invisible barrier. It deftly avoided directly revealing the cruel fact that "she failed," while also explaining in an irrefutable way why he would not clearly tell her the outcome—because the outcome was not fixed. This perfectly matched the thought process of someone from the future, someone who knew the course of history yet also understood its malleability. It was more believable than directly saying either "you failed" or "you succeeded."

She had not received the clear answer she wanted, but she had gained an even more far-reaching and shocking insight—the future was in her own hands.

After a brief silence, the complex light in Qian Renxue's eyes gradually settled into a calmness tinged with scrutiny.

She nodded lightly, her voice regaining its usual cool elegance. "I understand."

She did not press further. Lu Jing's answer was already forceful enough, and enough for her to confirm certain things—at the very least, his credibility as someone "from the future" had greatly risen in her mind. As for the answer that lay in the future... she would write it with her own hands.

"Rest early." Qian Renxue rose to her feet, her movements smooth and elegant, as though their conversation, fraught with hidden clashes, had never occurred. The golden hem of her dress rippled softly like water as she turned and walked toward the door, leaving behind only a noble yet somewhat lonely silhouette.

The door closed softly, cutting off his view.

Lu Jing did not move. His eyes fell upon the box of grilled meat on the table, nearly untouched. Its fragrance still lingered, but he no longer had the slightest desire to taste it. He walked to the window and pushed it open a crack. The night was deep, and the courtyard of the Worship Hall appeared especially secluded and solemn beneath the moonlight.

Watching the direction in which Qian Renxue had departed, he shook his head helplessly. A complicated sigh rose silently in his heart:

"Twenty years of infiltration, every step carefully calculated, every effort exhausted... only for it all to be ruined in the end, defeated by a mere Tang San... How ironic..." This unspoken murmur was an exact summary of that secret history buried beneath the dust of ten thousand years, as well as a sigh for Qian Renxue's fate.

He knew the course of events, yet could not say it outright. He could only hope that she truly understood his hint about "change." But how immense was history's inertia? Could that "Shura Demon Sword" that pierced Spirit Hall's heart... truly be changed?

Just as these thoughts, heavy with the weight of history, had yet to fade, a soft knock came from the door once more.