The sun had already passed its peak by the time Joseph, Lin Yue, Liang Jun, and Han Bo crossed the outer gates of the Sect of the Returning Soul. The archway loomed high overhead, etched with the words "For Death Is The Path To Enlightenment, For Enlightenment Is Redemption."
Joseph had passed through it only once since waking in this world.
Now it felt heavier.
The walk back from the Mist Path shrine had been quiet. Tense. Not from fear this time—but from something worse: disappointment.
Han Bo broke the silence first.
"Great," he said, dragging his feet. "So because of that cursed amulet and the demon infestation, the Mist Path trial was interrupted. Which means—what? No promotion. No advancement. Just another year stuck in outer disciple limbo."
Joseph said nothing.
He didn't have to. Han Bo's glare in his direction said enough.
Lin Yue said nothing at all, which was somehow worse. Her expression was unreadable, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed her frustration. She walked stiffly, as if holding something inside that might explode if touched.
"I trained for this trial for six months," she muttered under her breath. "I delayed breakthrough meditation twice. I timed everything around this."
Joseph felt a sting in his chest. The guilt rose again, sharper this time.
None of them had advanced. Not even Liang Jun. The jade amulet incident had effectively voided the trial. No inner disciple robes. No access to cultivation libraries. No jade pavilion pool time.
And all of it tied, somehow, to him.
"I'm sorry," Joseph said finally, voice low. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
They kept walking.
Then he felt a hand clap down on his shoulder.
Liang Jun.
The older boy gave a gentle squeeze. "Don't blame yourself, Wei Shen."
Joseph looked over.
Liang offered a small, tired smile. "Honestly? I didn't think I'd make it through the trial either. Fourth time's the charm, right?"
Joseph blinked.
"You knew the path better than I did," he said. "You would've passed."
"Maybe," Liang replied. "But it's not about clearing a trail. It's about surviving what comes with it. And thanks to you, we all walked out alive."
Han Bo grumbled, "Barely."
"Still breathing counts," Liang said firmly.
Joseph gave a faint nod, the guilt still lodged in his ribs but dulled slightly.
They reached the outer disciple quarters soon after. The familiar rows of gray-tiled rooftops and stone dorms sat under drifting cherry blossom petals. It looked peaceful—like nothing had happened.
But everything had changed.
Joseph slowed as they passed the training square. He glanced at the pavilion where the novice swords practiced. He remembered Wei Shen, in the novel, slicing a single strand of falling blossom during his breakthrough, earning praise from the elders.
That didn't happen now.
None of it had.
In the novel, Wei Shen had cleared the Mist Path trial alongside Ping An and Lin Yue. Together, they had faced down demons, found a relic flower, and were promoted to inner disciples. It was a triumphant moment—a turning point that launched Wei Shen toward becoming a cultivation prodigy.
But Joseph had made his own choices. Spoken out. Fought a serpent. Lied about the amulet. Brought suspicion. Altered the flow of events.
Every word he spoke, every choice he made—it changed the future.
This wasn't a story anymore. This was his life now.
Survival would take more than remembering what the novel said. He had to act. Adapt. Think faster than the plot that once guided him.
He reached his dorm door and paused, fingers brushing the handle. A breeze stirred the air.
Something felt... off.
He pushed the door open gently, stepping inside—and stopped.
There, sitting on the wide wooden window frame, one leg dangling over the edge, was Ping An.
He twirled a small dagger in his palm, balancing it perfectly, flipping it through his fingers like a toy. The fading sunlight hit the blade just enough to give it a glint like starlight.
Joseph's heart skipped.
Ping An looked over, smiling faintly. "Took you long enough."
Joseph stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind him.
"What do you want?" he asked. "Is it my life you're after?"
Ping An didn't answer.
Joseph kept going, voice firmer now. "If it is, go ahead. But you can't kill me in the way that matters to you."
Ping An's hand paused mid-flip.
Joseph stepped closer. "I know you yin-fied the jade amulet. I know you turned a yang tool into a beacon. That's why the mist demons came. That's why it glowed. You knew it would react to my qi. You engraved my wavelength into it, didn't you?"
Ping An smiled wider.
Joseph kept talking. "You knew I leak qi like a broken flask. So you made it respond to me. Every time I breathed, it pulsed. You planned all of it."
A long silence followed.
Then Ping An spoke, calm as always.
"You make such bold accusations," he said, "but you offer no proof. You speak like a parrot in an echo chamber, repeating what you've heard, claiming it as truth."
He stood from the window, stretching.
"You do know a great deal... for someone not of this world."
Joseph's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
Ping An walked closer, still flipping the dagger lazily.
"Only if your cultivation matched your curiosity," he said. "Then perhaps you'd be dangerous."
Joseph didn't flinch.
Ping An stopped two paces away. "But you're not dangerous. Not yet."
In one smooth motion, Ping An threw the dagger.
It hit the doorframe beside Joseph's head with a sharp thunk, the blade buried deep in the wood.
Joseph didn't move.
Ping An looked pleased.
"I'll be taking my leave," he said softly, stepping past. "The Elders will want you soon. You should prepare."
He opened the door, paused, and looked over his shoulder.
"You're not just ready yet, Wei Shen."
He left, letting the door swing shut behind him.
Joseph stood still, the dagger humming faintly beside his neck.