Struggle of Star Fates

In the courtyard, Zhao Hao slowly finished his stance.

The final punch slammed into the ironwood stake, emitting a dull, heavy thud. He pulled on his outer robe, the sweat-dampened fabric clinging to his skin and bringing a hint of chill.

He did not return to his room immediately, standing in place with his gaze cast toward the alley entrance.

It was empty there; no one had been left for a long time.

Yet, Zhao Hao's brows furrowed.

The black jade pendant at his throat pressed against his skin, radiating a faint, lingering warmth. The sensation was abrupt, yet strangely familiar.

It was a sign of a Star Fate resonance.

This pendant was left behind by his mother and he had worn it for over a dozen years, previously regarding it only as a keepsake. It wasn't until last month, after being publicly humiliated by Zhao Yuanchong, that he returned home to find the pendant missing. He had searched his entire room to no avail, only to suddenly discover it back around his neck while meditating the following day.

Immediately after, an ancient and unfamiliar aura surged forth from a forgotten corner deep within his consciousness.

Ever since then, everything had changed.

His cultivation speed became terrifying. Furthermore, when sparring with others, he knew exactly where their next move would land the moment their shoulders twitched. His body instinctively understood how his internal energy should flow, knowing clearly where to be swift and where to be steady. Even stranger, he began to smell the scent of danger, like a wild beast pricking up its ears in the night; he would feel a tightness in his chest before he even saw anything.

The pendant brought more than just this. There were also fragmented, intermittent memories. It had taken him months of effort to barely piece together any meaning from them.

One segment mentioned the "Convergence of the Three Stars."

Seven Killings, Greedy Wolf, Army Breaker.

Zhao Hao's gaze darkened. He hadn't been sure before, but now he understood.

The aura radiating from Zhao Yuanchong—the one that made him feel instinctive disgust and alertness, that sense of greed hidden within a sinister nature—could not be mistaken. This young master of the main branch was likely one of the three stars.

That attendant named Wang Yuan from earlier looked like he came from a common background, standing beside Zhao Yuanchong with a submissive air. His cultivation had reached the pulse-opening stage, but Zhao Hao felt that with his current skill and intuition, he wouldn't necessarily lose if they actually fought.

But just a moment ago.

As Zhao Yuanchong flicked his sleeves and left, Wang Yuan had cast a fleeting glance at him while passing by.

Just that one glance.

The pendant at his throat had suddenly grown hot.

The dormant power within his body had stirred in response.

That feeling was different from when he faced Zhao Yuanchong. It wasn't a clash of needles, a restless urge to devour the other.

It was a deeper, instinctive vigilance.

Outside the side gate, Li Tui stood in place, watching the tightly shut mansion doors. Zhao Yuanchong's fiery remark about being "sensible" still hung in the air.

He did not linger, turning to step over the threshold as his figure sank into the shadows of the Zhao Mansion. The noise of the street market outside was cut off, and it grew quiet behind him.

Li Tui walked at a steady, unhurried pace.

He knew clearly that Zhao Yuanchong had lost face today, and this matter was far from over. That boy had a violent temper; having been rebuffed to his face, his future harassment would only intensify.

But he was not worried. After serving him closely for a month, he had long since grasped the boy's nature. He was truly ruthless, yet deep down, he still feared the rules of the Zhao family. Where there was fear, there were cracks to exploit.

Moreover... he sank his consciousness into his dantian. The Qingling and Fengshi acupoints were open, and his internal energy flowed more smoothly than before. Although he had damaged his foundation by forcibly opening the acupoints last time, he had succeeded in clearing them nonetheless.

Just as he was thinking this, the depths of his consciousness rippled gently.

The Samsara Mirror, which had been silent for a long time, began to rotate on its own.

The patterns on the mirror's edge flickered, and the surface rippled like water, revealing two light-shadows locked in a death struggle.

One was gray-white, condensing into the phantom of a long spear, its tip sharp and cold, exuding a murderous aura. The other was dark red, forming the silhouette of a wolf with bared fangs, sinister and greedy.

The gray-white spear pressed forward step by step, while the dark red wolf retreated, its form faintly suppressed.

Seven Killings... Greedy Wolf...

The two names surfaced in Li Tui's mind. His footsteps faltered.

Manifestation of Star Fate?

Having lived for eighty years in his past life, he had heard and read some of the mystical lore regarding star fates in teahouse storytelling and miscellaneous books.

But this was the first time he had "seen" it with his own eyes.

This gray-white spear...

He suddenly recalled the sinister, murderous intent in Zhao Yuanchong's eyes when he looked at Zhao Hao. He remembered Zhao Hao's unnatural combat reflexes and the black jade pendant at his throat. Thinking back now, it seemed that beneath the pendant's dull surface, there was an aura of the same origin as the gray-white spear shadow before him.

So, it wasn't just a rift between the main and side branches.

It was a clash of star fates.

Greedy Wolf colliding with Seven Killings was like night mist meeting the midday sun; it feared being scorched away, yet hungered to devour the other to nourish itself.

This explained why Zhao Yuanchong would casually promise a "bestowed surname" just to kill off this seemingly insignificant side-branch member.

Looking at the phenomena in the mirror, the "Seven Killings" on Zhao Hao was actually suppressing Zhao Yuanchong's "Greedy Wolf."

Interesting.

It seemed that what this side-branch youth was hiding was far more troublesome—and far more valuable—than he had anticipated.

The ripples on the mirror surface smoothed out, and the two fighting shadows vanished without a trace.

Li Tui withdrew his focus and continued walking.

His fingertips brushed against his coarse cloth sleeve; the fabric was stiff, the weave rough and abrasive.

For a small clan like the Jinan Zhao Clan to produce two people burdened with Star Fates was truly unexpected.

Then what about him?

The Samsara Mirror had chosen him as its master, allowing him to reincarnate for a hundred lifetimes—what kind of fate was that?

The depths of Li Tui's eyes were as still as a deep pool.

Regardless of the fate, the path he intended to walk had long been set. His spiritual roots needed to awaken, his cultivation needed to advance, and the resources hidden within the deep waters of the Zhao Mansion needed to be grasped, bit by bit.

As for the conflict of Star Fates...

Since the mirror could now reveal them, perhaps in the future, it could also be used to slightly manipulate them.

Li Tui passed through the moon gate, the courtyard shrouded in the dimness of twilight. From the direction of the main house in the distance came the impatient scolding of Zhao Yuanchong, mingled with the soft, gentle coaxing of a woman.

He did not stop, heading straight back to his quarters.

He pushed the door open and closed it behind him.

The room was unlit, with only the residual light leaking in from the window outlining the shapes of the table, chairs, and bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, not rushing to cultivate, but sitting quietly.

The night grew heavy, swallowing the last of the faint light.

In the darkness, Li Tui opened his eyes.

His gaze was rippleless, reflecting the flickering lights of the main Zhao Mansion house in the distance outside the window.

He closed his eyes, his breath settling and gathering, and stepped back into his cultivation.

This night was still long.

As for tomorrow, he would deal with tomorrow when it came.