Fated Souls

FS :; 1

n. YES! I SAVED THIS! YES!

FUCK YES!

_______

A century had passed.

A century after the truth had been exposed; Jun Wu as the white calamity, defeated by the infamous God-Ghost King duo that now both ruled the Ghost Realm and the Heavenly Realm. The heavenly capital that was once turned into a godamn human moving statue now re-built as if it wasn't in ruins.

It had been a hundred years since Ship Sinking Black Water decided to portray his own revenge on the Water Tyrant and turn the said tyrant's brother's fate into nothing but an endless pit of darkness and despair where even when he was at his lowest peak, he would turn around and smile as though there was nothing wrong.

As though he was still the Young Lord that Pours the Cup of Wine, the Wind Master and not a weak mortal beggar.

Since then, the Heavens recieved no word or even a dust of presence from one of the remaining two Devastations. Choosing to live back on his own and not bothering to show himself back to the other red calamity after finally paying his unbearable dept.

Or who knows, he might be disguised as another God and no one just realised it.

The history of Shi Wudu shamelessly take one's fate and switch it with his brother's misfortune has been long forgotten. Had been re-worded and re-written until it just became a sole myth. A legend to tell to their young descendants and terrify them if they force one preserved gold to one that did no labor.

The Water Master may have earned and worked hard for his title in the Upper Court but that did not mean he could escape his rancorous fate. The outcome of his malevolent actions.

That also didn't mean the entirety of heavens weren't surprised to hear that the newly ascended Wind Master was the said Water Tyrant's little brother. Especially when they had thought he was dead considering he was thrown back out as a mortal the last time they had seen him.

Standing confident and visibly nervous, a familiar white closed fan with a green ribbon on its edges clutched tightly on his right hand, his knuckles already paling by how hard he'd been grasping it. Equally nervous eyes skims over the Upper Court that stared at him in disbelief as if they had seen a ghost, yet his proud smile differs with his own person.

Shi Qingxuan gazed down once again at the fan that motivated and inspired him to do better. Expensive silk with black ink used to hand-write the '风' on its front.

It was his fan.

Not his old fan as it had been ripped and crumpled into nothing but small segments when he had last seen it and he was not about to go down memory-lane just to look for it and piece it back together.

He found a way to cultivate himself back to the heavens. With resentless hard-work and sheer persistence and having to learn what actual patience mean, he successfully ascended. Despite not having his usual luck or the talent to keep his nature or even the intelligence his late brother had.

The journey was many things but smooth and easy. After all, Taizi Danxia's luck increased tenfold when it was him. Constant pain and nights of hopelessness that he would actually make it. It became a routine; the nights where he'd rather not sleep to avoid the tormentings of repeated nightmares. Nightmares of what happened in the Nether Manor, of his brother's head getting ripped off his person and words that reminds him what he had done wrong.

But nevertheless, he was here.

Smiling lavishly to his fellow-Gods, noticing they have decreased to about atleast half if not less in spite it being over a hundred years now.