Night of Surprise

The room was dark, with only a faint sliver of moonlight breaking through the cracks in the window. Despite the late hour, Zhuan Ming was wide awake, his focus steady. His first Heaven's Fruit was about to form. The air in the room felt slightly charged, a subtle amount of spiritual energy gathering around him, drawn toward his core. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his breathing even, his sharp eyes fixed on the faint glow emanating from his Nirvana roots, where before there had been only five leaves. Now, each leaf had a small fruit next to it, varying in size and glow. There was a quiet sense of anticipation, but he remained composed, his expression calm.

The formation of a Heaven's Fruit was an important step in a cultivator's journey, though not yet a grand or earth-shattering event. Each fruit contained an artifact or ability born from the cultivator's experiences, understanding of life, and comprehension of their Dao. However, fully utilizing its power required a level of spiritual energy and physical strength that most cultivators only achieved by Rank 3. Even so, Zhuan Ming knew that the fruit could still be useful in a pinch—something to tip the scales in a critical moment, even if using it came with risks, and in some cases, death.

As the spiritual energy around him condensed, the faint glow within his nirvana roots grew slightly brighter, taking on a vague, indistinct shape. Zhuan Ming's mind wandered briefly, wondering what the fruit might contain. A simple weapon? A basic tool? Or perhaps something tied to his understanding of the blood path or his past life as a thief?

The process was straightforward, the energy slowly solidifying into a small, glowing fruit. The fruit was unlike anything Zhuan Ming had seen before—its surface was a mesmerizing blend of black and white, swirling together in an intricate, almost hypnotic pattern. The two colors seemed to dance around each other, never fully merging but constantly shifting, as if representing the delicate balance between fortune and misfortune.

"Huh," Zhuan Ming muttered, his voice tinged with surprise. "Out of all the paths, I didn't expect my first fruit to be from the luck path."

He pondered for a moment, his sharp mind analysing the implications. "Maybe it represents my reincarnation—that I was lucky to get a second chance," he thought. The idea amused him, though he didn't dwell on it for long. Luck was a fickle thing, and he had never been one to rely on it. But now, it seemed, luck had chosen him.

"Either way, luck path… hmm," he mused. The luck path was a rare and heavily restricted cultivation path, primarily used by the highest members of the Righteous Path. Only the most loyal, promising, and specially chosen talents were allowed to cultivate it. Lone cultivators who pursued the luck path were even rarer, and in his past life, Zhuan Ming had encountered only one. He was no stranger to the path, however, as his wife in his past life had been a luck path cultivator.

The memory of her brought a faint smirk to his lips. "That silly fool," he thought, though there was no real malice in the words. She had been useful to him, a tool in his grand scheme to infiltrate the Righteous Path under a false identity. As her husband, he had played his role perfectly, gaining access to secrets and resources that had furthered his own goals. But now, as he looked at the swirling black-and-white fruit, he couldn't help but wonder if her influence had somehow left a mark on him.

"I could use her now," he admitted to himself, though not out of any sense of longing. She had been a means to an end, and he had no regrets about how he had used her. Still, the luck path was a powerful tool, and if this fruit could grant him even a fraction of its potential, it would be a valuable asset.

The fruit pulsed faintly, as if responding to his thoughts, and Zhuan Ming's smirk widened. "Well, luck or not, I'll make the most of this," he said quietly. "After all, I've never been one to rely on chance—but I'm not above using it to my advantage."

As the glow within him settled, Zhuan Ming's thoughts turned to the next steps in his cultivation. The path ahead was long, and this was only the beginning. But with each step, he was moving closer to his goals—power, freedom, and the ability to shape his own destiny.

Outside, the night remained quiet, the world unaware of the small but significant change taking place within the dim room. For Zhuan Ming, it was just another step on the long road ahead. And he was ready to keep moving forward, luck or no luck.