Chapter 12: The Rise and Fall Are Bound by Fate

Silvery laughter rang throughout the illusory realm. "If I hadn't come, perhaps you would have soon forgotten all about me, lording over the tribe with unchecked power, living your days in utter contentment. How could you possibly remember that I’m still out here enduring hardships?"

Ning Peach Blossom snorted, her laughter charming and light. "Who knows when a bolt of heavenly lightning might strike down out of nowhere, and I'd be finished on the spot. So I might as well come in person to keep an eye on you."

"This is all a bit too hasty, isn’t it? It's only been a few short days. No matter what thoughts I have, they're useless for now. Even with you coming here yourself, there's nothing I can do." Ye Chen was at a loss whether to laugh or cry. "With your formidable strength and yet still being struck so fiercely by thunder, your trunk charred and your vital energy grievously wounded—how could I possibly find a way to conceal your fate from the heavens in such a short time?"

The deal was indeed difficult, but Ye Chen had no regrets. After all, with the threat of the spirit bamboo resolved, his opening moves could be considered secure.

"In truth, I always knew the Bamboo Tribe wouldn’t be so easily dealt with."

Ning Peach Blossom hesitated. "But some things must be done. Choosing another tribe is certainly possible, but it would be of little use."

"And why is that?" Ye Chen’s heart was full of suspicion. The power of the spirit bamboo in the Bamboo Tribe wasn’t especially formidable—though, to be fair, it depended on what Ye Chen himself was capable of. He had only just emerged from his cocoon, and his means were limited; he was already close to failure.

But Ye Chen’s options were few. He had already scouted the possibilities, and time and again, the Bamboo Tribe remained the most suitable target.

First, they had just endured a bitter battle, suffering heavy losses, and even their totem was greatly damaged—perfect circumstances for Ye Chen to take advantage of their misfortune.

If he was to change his fate within the seven-day limit, he had to reach the Transcendent Realm—to become a totem himself.

His only means was to subtly alter the memories of the tribe’s people, but this could not be done carelessly. Too great a change would invite backlash, and then death would come swiftly, without even a chance to struggle—there would be no saving him.

In other words, to minimize alterations, it was best to simply embellish the existing memories. For that, Ye Chen needed to join a tribe that already possessed a totem.

Yet, Ning Peach Blossom’s words forced him to reconsider everything that had happened thus far. Upon reflection, her constant hints and embellishments were undeniable—every step he took, every observation he made, might have been carefully orchestrated, never truly reflecting reality.

"Do you bear a grudge against the Bamboo Tribe?" Ye Chen’s tone was laced with doubt. "You’re someone even heavenly thunder can’t kill—surely the Bamboo Tribe is nothing to you?"

"You really do have an imagination," she replied.

Ning Peach Blossom gave a soft laugh. "The Bamboo Tribe is far too weak to pose any trouble for me."

"So you simply dislike them?" Ye Chen blurted out. Ning Peach Blossom snorted coldly. "Is that really how you see me—so unreasonable?" Her words carried a hint of menace. "Or is it that you hope I’ll treat you the same way?"

Ye Chen forced a laugh, though inwardly he was quite calm. His banter was nothing more than a probing of her character. If she truly targeted the Bamboo Tribe simply out of personal dislike, the reason might sound laughable, but on second thought, it was chilling. As the weak, one could not afford to find it funny—it was like a mischievous child pouring boiling water on an ant’s nest, simply because the thought occurred to them. The ants, of course, would be terrified.

Before Ning Peach Blossom, Ye Chen was the ant. If she was not easy to deal with, he would need to start preparing early—waiting passively for death was not an option.

"The reason for acting against the Bamboo Tribe is that it is a nexus of fate," Ning Peach Blossom said solemnly. "Every living thing is born with its own destiny. The rise and fall of fortune is already written—surely this is not difficult to understand?"

Ye Chen nodded. "I get the gist. Fate is set by the heavens; life and death cannot be changed."

Of course, he was hardly so fatalistic. If everything were predetermined, then would the fate of heaven and earth not be a stagnant pool? The general course of destiny might be inevitable, but the struggle of individuals could perhaps raise the limit of what fate allowed. There was no need to argue philosophy with Ning Peach Blossom, however.

"Look—this is the true destiny of you and me."

On the peach tree, countless blossoms scattered and swirled, becoming a sea of flowers. Then, in a flash, the blooms turned to ash, and a billowing, crystalline mist unfurled in the void, painting a vivid tableau.

In a peach grove, a single peach tree stood with a trunk blackened as charcoal. High above, thunder raged, lightning snakes tearing the heavens asunder, turning sky and earth the color of doom. The land below was scorched and lifeless.

The peach grove was destroyed, all plants withered and blackened, vitality utterly extinguished.

A chill ran through Ye Chen’s heart. Although this vision was only Ning Peach Blossom’s conjuration, the pure and terrible energy radiating from it was palpable. Just witnessing it made his hair stand on end. Such thunder was unimaginable—how could one survive it?

Heaven’s wrath burned so fiercely that lush mountains became wasteland. Under such divine might, all things were doomed. Ning Peach Blossom, too, was unlikely to escape annihilation.

"Is this your fate?" Ye Chen asked, perplexed. "If the heavenly thunder comes so soon, there’s nothing I can do."

He had no illusions about his abilities. A brush with such lightning would leave him nothing but ashes, let alone saving Ning Peach Blossom from its wrath.

"Fortunately, it’s not so urgent," she replied softly. "But that is my fate, as if some terrible being has inscribed a maxim about me in the fabric of destiny, sealing my end and making doom inescapable."

"Now look—this is your destiny."

As her words fell, the vision shifted. A spirit butterfly fluttered through the forest.

Waters tinkled, gathering the soft glow of the moon into a silver mirror. The shimmering light reflected the riverside path, blurred as if veiled in mist.

Accompanied by the murmuring stream, the spirit butterfly fell gently to the earth, ending its brief life.

"So, I was never meant to break the seven-day limit?" Ye Chen smiled. "If that’s the case, what is there to worry about? No matter what fate decrees, it isn’t unchangeable."

Ning Peach Blossom spoke in a grave tone. "How could it be so simple? You think you’ve reversed your fate, stepped onto a different river, broken the limits set for you—but that’s nothing more than wishful thinking."

"Perhaps the process has changed, but fate never grants miracles. A lucky few may momentarily break their shackles and leap from the river of destiny. Though the fish is small, its shadow in the water is only a reflection—a fleeting glimpse of fate, not necessarily a true change."

"As for me, I have another opportunity. Sometimes, ignorance is a blessing—the more you know, the more hopeless it becomes. I’ve seen a future where all hope is gone, no fortune left, and despair fills the heart. And yet, suddenly, I glimpsed an entirely new fate."

Astonishment colored her words; even now, the change seemed incomprehensible.

"Deep below, there are countless cocoons of dream-butterflies lying dormant. Most are useless. After emerging, the seven-day limit cannot be changed. But you are special. Along the path of the dream-butterfly, you go further still—you have the potential to become the Immortal Dream Butterfly."