Chapter Twenty-Two: On the Eve of Fate’s Turning Point

The gleaming eyes stood out remarkably against the dark night. Han Bingyan rubbed his aching head, uncertain of what had transpired or why he had collapsed to the ground. Surveying his surroundings carefully, he found himself in a pitch-black wooden cabin. At its center stood a lofty altar, and everything around him unmistakably proclaimed this as the chamber where the Jade Disc of Creation was kept.

Was it all merely a dream? The towering mountains, the solemn golden characters, and that mysterious, familiar summons—were they illusions? Shaking his head, Han Bingyan struggled to his feet, his body sore and weary, and staggered toward the altar. For some reason, his body felt as if it had undergone intense exertion, drenched in sweat and wracked with discomfort.

Yet, Han Bingyan was still a child of about ten, and his mind did not linger on such questions for long. He simply assumed that his contact with the Jade Disc had stunned him into unconsciousness.

Driven by unwillingness, Han Bingyan stared intently at the Jade Disc. The previous attempt had left him with a bitter realization: he was not the one chosen by the Disc.

Perhaps it was the result of enduring countless hardships that his resilience had grown unusually strong. To his surprise, he found himself feeling no regret, as if it no longer mattered whether he was the Feather Prophet.

He lingered beside the altar, his large, curious eyes observing everything—up and down, left and right—his gaze shining with a peculiar light.

Had he looked closer, he might have noticed that the Jade Disc had undergone a special change. Its surface had lost its luster; stripped of its power, it now appeared rough, its mission fulfilled.

At this point, the Jade Disc was nothing more than an ordinary piece of jade. Regrettably, Han Bingyan was unfamiliar with the Disc, and even after its transformation, he would have assumed it had always been thus.

With a helpless sigh, Han Bingyan turned to leave the chamber. After the crushing disappointment, a profound transformation seemed to take place within him—a strange calm and detachment settled in his heart.

In the gloom, a small figure darted through the Han family compound, clad in ornate women's attire. Even when he encountered a few guards, Han Bingyan had the identity of "Han Bingran" to shield him.

He did not return to his sister to change clothes but instead scaled the tall wall and headed straight for his mountain hideaway, thinking he could return the garments tomorrow.

But he was unaware that, as he climbed the wall, a pair of shadowy eyes watched him closely.

Once Bingyan had gone, a figure emerged from the darkness, muttering, "How is this possible? How did he come back? Did the formation malfunction and fail to transport him?" Han Liang's eyes widened in amazement, tinged with fear and resolve.

Lying beneath a not-so-warm quilt, Han Bingyan changed out of the women's attire, his thoughts swirling. He did not feel regret for not being the Feather Prophet; previously, he himself hadn't known what he would do if he wasn't chosen. Now, having confirmed that he wasn't, he found himself oddly unconcerned. What was happening to him? And why hadn't Han Bingru come this time—had something happened to her?

In a haze of fatigue, Han Bingyan drifted into sleep...

※※※ Feather ※※※ Emperor ※※※

"Brother, it's almost New Year. Grandma asked me to bring you back to the family to celebrate with us," Han Bingran said cheerfully, bouncing beside Han Bingyan. She knew her brother had been abandoned by the family for nearly two years, enduring untold hardships. Now that Grandma had invited him home for the festival, it was a sign of hope—perhaps her grandmother's animosity toward her brother was finally softening.

Several days had passed since the Feather Festival, and Han Bingyan realized that the annual reunion festival was upon them.

Should he go back? He pondered, recalling how, for two years, he had watched others enjoy each festival from the sidelines. He truly envied them and longed to be reunited with his loved ones.

Regardless of the family's ruthlessness two years ago, or the mocking laughter from most, none of that could overshadow the concern shown by his mother, Aunt Xiao Yun, and his sister. Although they hadn't visited him in two years, Han Bingyan understood they were delayed by circumstances, not because they had ceased to care.

He also knew that even if only one person still cared for him, he would not easily give up the Han family—unless even they abandoned him. Only then would he lose all hope. But was that possible?

Nodding softly, he thought, "Let me return and see whether the Han family has changed..."

Seeing her brother agree, Han Bingran leapt up in delight.

"Hey, let go," Han Bingyan said, struggling against the arms wrapped around his neck.

Han Bingran laughed sheepishly and climbed off him. "And, there'll be a big surprise for you—a real surprise, hehe!"

"What surprise?" Han Bingyan asked curiously.

"Not telling! You'll find out soon enough." Clearly, Han Bingran wanted to keep the suspense until the end. Thinking of the outfit she had made especially for her brother, she smiled secretly, carefully hiding her bandaged hands behind her back, her lips betraying a hint of emotion.

"Alright, you’re being mysterious…" Han Bingyan, unusually relaxed, began to chase after his adorable sister...

※※※ Feather ※※※ Emperor ※※※

Night, deep and shadowy—the eve of New Year's. The Han family compound was ablaze with lights.

Han Bingyan rarely saw such bustling scenes. In t