Xu Tianyin pressed his palm against the rough bark of a tree, steadying himself as his breath came in slow, measured beats. The world had settled once more, but the shift had not gone unnoticed.
Something had changed within him.
He clenched his fist, feeling the faintest hum of energy beneath his skin—not the raw, burning force of normal cultivators, but something colder, quieter. It was like the absence of power rather than its presence.
The void.
It had stirred.
His entire life, the heavens had denied him the ability to cultivate in the ways of others. His body rejected spiritual energy, his meridians broken before they could even form. And yet, he had endured.
And now—now he had touched something beyond their understanding.
A chill ran down his spine, but not from fear.
From certainty.
This was his path.
A sharp gust of wind swept through the forest, rustling the leaves. His senses remained sharp, his body still tense from the strange pressure he had just escaped. The presence from before had not returned, but he no longer doubted its reality.
Something was watching him.
And yet, no attack came.
Xu Tianyin straightened, exhaling slowly. If they were waiting for something, then so was he. He had no interest in playing a game of hesitation. If they wanted to test him, then he would test them in return.
His fingers brushed against the sleeve of his tattered robe, his thoughts drifting to Bai Yeming.
Had she already foreseen this? Had she known that he would walk this path alone?
She had always been vague about her own past, never speaking of how she had come to understand the truths she passed on to him. But he had learned enough to know that Bai Yeming never acted without reason.
And she had chosen to guide him.
He turned his gaze to the sky, the moonlight barely breaking through the thick canopy above.
A name.
That was what he needed.
A name for what he was becoming. A name for the path he had taken.
A path that no one else had walked.
His fingers twitched as a thought surfaced.
The Fate-Scarring Void Path.
The words settled into his mind, not spoken aloud but felt—etched into his very being.
Yes.
This was what he would carve into existence.
His past had been stolen. His future had been denied.
But this—this would be his.
And no one—not even the heavens themselves—would take it away.