The early morning sun cast a faint golden hue over the park, its warmth brushing lightly over the leaves that swayed with a soft whisper. The world was still calm, peaceful — the kind of peace that ca before a storm.
Leo Aetherwind’s calm gaze followed the figure of Lu Xio, who stood near the fallen old man, his face twisted with a mix of shock and determination.
Leo’s brows furrowed slightly as he took a step closer. Though his heart had grown accustod to the cold logic of a villain’s life, there was one principle he never broke — he never hard the innocent, nor stood idle when a life dangled on the edge of death.
For a brief mont, his silence spoke more than words. He looked at the unconscious old man, then at Lu Xio, who stood trembling, arguing nonsensically.
Lu Xio’s tone rose, desperate and defensive.
"I saw him first! I learned dicine from my master in the old town — I know what to do! I can definitely cure him!"
His words were full of confidence, yet they carried a false echo — a sound of soone trying to convince themselves more than anyone else.
Leo’s lips curved slightly, a faint twitch betraying his inner irritation. So this is the so-called "Protagonist"? he thought with mild amusent and disdain. A fool blinded by self-importance, so eager to snatch every ’opportunity’ that fate throws his way, even when a man’s life is at stake.
The murmurs of the crowd began to swell.
"Yeah, at least let the young man try," one passerby said.
Another joined, "Yes, yes — he seems reliable. Maybe he really knows dicine!"
The crowd nodded, their voices combining into a wave that pressed against Leo’s patience.
He sighed deeply, his silver hair catching the sunlight like strands of moonlight against the morning sky. Human hearts truly are foolish, he mused. They are blinded by youthful faces and pretty words.
In his mind, a quote echoed faintly, one he had once read from an old Chinese philosopher:
> "The world bows not to truth, but to confidence. A liar with conviction shall win hearts faster than a sage with doubt."
Leo’s jaw tightened, yet he remained calm.
He turned his gaze to the old man lying unconscious on the bench. The frail body trembled slightly, a faint pulse fluttering beneath the skin. It was clear — this was not a matter for argunts, but for action.
In a composed but firm voice, Leo spoke.
"You idiot," he said flatly, his tone slicing through the noise like cold steel. "This is a matter of life and death — not so childish competition. Can’t you see his condition? Forget our past grudges, Lu Xio. Let handle the treatnt."
But Lu Xio, puffed up by the voices of support, clenched his fists. His pride burned too fiercely to back down now. "No," he said with false righteousness. "You’re trying to steal this from again, aren’t you? I can do it. I won’t back away."
Leo’s face remained emotionless, though inwardly his frustration boiled. Destiny always favors the fool, he thought bitterly. The so-called "heavenly way" truly knows how to make a mockery of logic.
The onlookers grew louder, more insistent, their naive faith in Lu Xio pressing Leo into silence.
"Co on, young man! Don’t stop him — let him try!"
"Yeah, the boy looks confident!"
"Maybe it’s fate that he’s here now!"
Leo’s lips curved faintly in a dry, ironic smile. Yes, he thought. Fate indeed — but not yours to claim, Lu Xio.
Just then, the old man stirred. A low groan escaped his lips as his eyelids fluttered open. The world held its breath for that one mont.
Leo stepped forward imdiately. His voice softened, gentle but commanding, "Old man, stay still. I’ll treat you now."
But the old man’s dimming eyes turned — not toward Leo, but to Lu Xio. His trembling hand reached out and grasped Lu Xio’s wrist weakly.
"You..." the old man rasped, his breath shallow but filled with recognition. "You... young man, help ... I’ll... repay you... anything you wish."
Leo’s pupils narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. He could feel the gears of destiny grinding once again — the classic protagonist encounter.
He could almost laugh at how predictable it was.
So, it’s that kind of scene, Leo thought. The wounded benefactor, the noble savior, the promised reward. A perfect stepping stone for the "hero."
Lu Xio, emboldened by those words, puffed up with pride. "Don’t worry, old man! I will save you. I promise!" he declared loudly, his tone theatrical.
He turned toward Leo, a smug smile stretching across his lips. His eyes glead with arrogance as if declaring: See? This is the outco. I will get everything I want.
Leo t his gaze but didn’t flinch. He didn’t even bother responding. Instead, he folded his arms behind his back, watching silently.
The mont stretched long — two destinies standing side by side, both walking the sa path yet in opposite directions.
In that quiet tension, an ancient Indian proverb crossed Leo’s mind:
> "The fool rushes to claim victory before the arrow has left the bow. The wise waits until the target falls."
Lu Xio knelt beside the old man and began his so-called treatnt. His hands trembled slightly, but his confidence blinded him from noticing.
"I learned this from my master," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his fingers pressing against the old man’s chest in awkward rhythm. "Don’t worry, I know what to do."
Leo’s sharp eyes observed every motion with surgical precision. He could tell instantly that Lu Xio’s movents were untrained, chaotic — but the onlookers, filled with blind hope, failed to notice.
One woman in the crowd whispered, "Oh, look how skilled he is!"
Another nodded, "Yes, yes, the young man must be a miracle doctor!"
Leo’s inner voice sneered at the irony. In this world, he thought, perception outweighs truth. They see what they wish to see, not what is.
The air grew thick with murmurs and whispers. Lu Xio’s smugness only deepened. The sunlight frad his figure as if heaven itself was blessing him. He looked every part the protagonist of a fateful story.
What a performance, Leo mused darkly.
Slowly, color began to return to the old man’s face. His breathing steadied, the trembling eased. The crowd gasped in delight.
"See! I told you, he could do it!"
"Such a talented young man!"
"We should find out his na — soone like him will go far!"
Their praise fell like rain on Lu Xio’s inflated ego. He grinned, his crooked smile stretching unnaturally across his face. His heart swelled with triumph, with pride, with the sweet illusion of success.
He turned toward Leo, his expression dripping with superiority. The kind of look that said — You lose.
Leo didn’t respond. He stood with his hands still behind his back, his calm eyes watching the scene unfold. There was no anger, no jealousy — only an icy patience, as if waiting for a thread to snap.
In that still mont, the park felt oddly quiet despite the chatter. The wind carried a strange on — sothing unseen, yet palpable.
A line from an ancient Chinese poem surfaced in Leo’s mind, one that mirrored his emotion perfectly:
> "When heaven’s balance tilts, the proud shall fall; when the cup of fate overflows, even gods must drown."
And so, Leo waited.
Waited for the inevitable.
Because fate might favor the protagonist, but Leo Aetherwind had long learned how to twist fate itself.
The sunlight dimd slightly as a cloud passed overhead. The faint rustle of leaves whispered of a coming change — an unseen tension coiling quietly beneath the surface.
Lu Xio continued smiling, unaware that the mont he believed himself victorious was the exact mont destiny prepared to humiliate him.
Leo’s lips curved ever so slightly, a ghost of amusent flickering across his face.
> "Pride blinds even the chosen," he thought silently. "But when blindness ets reality, even a ’hero’ must face the dark."
The warmth of the morning sun still lingered in the park, but the air had shifted—subtle yet unmistakable. A whisper of unease rippled among the crowd, though they couldn’t yet understand why.
Leo Aetherwind stood in silence, his sharp gaze locked on Lu Xio and the frail old man who had just monts ago appeared to be recovering. The people around were still busy clapping, praising, and marveling at the so-called miracle.
"Ah, look at him! Such steady hands," one of the onlookers said.
"Indeed, he must be so kind of hidden genius!" another replied with awe.
But Leo’s expression didn’t change. His silver eyes were calm, cold, and assessing. He could already see it—the slight tremor in the old man’s fingers, the uneven pulse, the faint discoloration beneath his nails. Subtle signs that no one else could perceive.
Inside his mind, his thoughts were quiet but precise: Too much stimulation of the heart ridian... he forced the blood flow instead of stabilizing it. Amateur.
He could almost predict what would happen next.
Lu Xio, anwhile, was basking in the glow of praise. His crooked smile widened, his chest puffed out. The more the people admired him, the more his arrogance inflated.
Turning to face Leo, he smirked mockingly. "See, Leo Aetherwind," he said in a self-satisfied tone, "this is what true talent looks like. I don’t need your help or your advice. Fate has chosen ."
Leo simply stared at him. No anger. No irritation. Only quiet amusent.
Inwardly, he mused, Chosen by fate? You’re just dancing to its tune, not realizing that it already chose your downfall the mont you smiled.
A soft breeze passed between them, rustling the leaves.
At that mont, a quote surfaced in Leo’s mind—an ancient Chinese saying that seed carved for this very instant:
> "When arrogance climbs too high, the heavens cut its wings."
Lu Xio, completely unaware of the growing danger, continued to bask in his illusion of triumph. The crowd’s applause filled his ears like a lody of victory.
"Yes, yes, he’s such a good doctor!"
"I wish I had soone like him in my family!"
"A true prodigy!"
The voices of admiration swirled like honey around his ego.
Leo, however, remained still—his hands clasped behind his back, eyes half-lidded in quiet thought.
The protagonist’s script is always the sa, he thought dryly. The hero saves soone important, earns their gratitude, gains a mysterious connection, and steps closer to greatness. But what happens when the script is... interrupted?
And then, it happened.
The sound was faint at first—barely audible. A single cough, sharp and dry.
Then another.
And another.
The old man’s body convulsed violently. His eyes widened in horror as his hands shot up to his chest, clutching it tightly. A deep, wet sound followed as he coughed out a thick stream of blood, splattering across the stone pavent.
The cheerful voices turned to gasps.
"Wha—what happened?!"
"Did he... did he just cough blood?"
"Oh my god, look at his face!"
The old man’s face, once rosy with false recovery, was now pale as snow—drained of all life. His breathing was erratic, his chest heaving with pain.
Lu Xio froze. His confident grin shattered instantly. His pupils trembled as if struck by lightning.
"No... no, that’s impossible," he muttered weakly. "I... I cured him! He was fine a second ago!"
Leo’s calm voice finally broke the silence. "You forced his blood flow instead of stabilizing it," he said, tone mild but edged with quiet authority. "His heart was too weak to withstand such pressure. You didn’t save him—you just accelerated his collapse."
Lu Xio’s face twisted in disbelief. "No! You’re lying!"
But the murmurs of the crowd had already shifted.
"Wait, so he didn’t cure him?"
"Look at the old man—he’s worse than before!"
"Maybe the silver-haired guy was right!"
The sa people who had sung Lu Xio’s praises just monts ago now turned on him with suspicion and fear.
One old lady whispered, trembling, "How cruel... pretending to be a doctor..."
Another murmured, "He almost killed the man!"
Lu Xio’s mind buzzed in panic. His knees weakened. No... no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go... I was supposed to save him, not—
His thoughts broke off when the old man’s body slumped sideways on the bench, his hand slipping from Lu Xio’s trembling grasp.
A heavy silence descended. Even the wind seed to pause.
And in that stillness, Leo’s faint chuckle echoed like a whisper of inevitability.
"Fate truly has a twisted sense of humor," he murmured softly, just loud enough for Lu Xio to hear.
Lu Xio’s eyes darted toward him, full of fury and confusion. "You—what did you do?!"
Leo tilted his head slightly, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Nothing at all. You did it yourself. Rember, ’heaven helps those who act with humility.’ You, on the other hand..."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering into a faint, cold tone that carried both mockery and truth.
> "Pride is a poison that fools mistake for strength."
The crowd was now in chaos—so calling for an ambulance, others backing away in fear. The scene that was supposed to be Lu Xio’s grand opportunity had turned into a disaster.
As dics rushed toward the scene, Leo took one last glance at the old man, then at the trembling Lu Xio. His gaze was neither sympathetic nor cruel—rely indifferent.
This is how it begins, he thought. The downfall of another protagonist who mistook arrogance for destiny.
He turned away, his footsteps calm and asured.
The chatter of the crowd faded behind him, replaced by the rhythmic sound of his shoes against the stone path.
In his mind, an ancient Indian quote resonated like a silent verdict:
> "He who believes destiny bows to him shall find his neck under its foot."
Leo’s expression didn’t change, but deep within his heart, there was a faint flicker of satisfaction.
He didn’t need to manipulate fate this ti. The protagonist had destroyed himself.
Behind him, Lu Xio fell to his knees, his hands trembling. His mind was spinning with fear, sha, and disbelief. His so-called "heroic mont" had turned into public humiliation.
He looked up at Leo’s retreating figure, his eyes filled with resentnt and confusion. He didn’t understand why everything went wrong. Why fate, which always seed to favor him, had suddenly turned its back.
Leo, however, knew the answer.
Because fate, too, could be rewritten.
He paused at the park’s edge, letting the sunlight brush across his silver hair. Without turning back, he whispered faintly to himself—words that carried both aning and mockery:
> "In the end, heaven’s stage has room for only one lead actor."
And with that, Leo walked away, leaving behind the shattered illusion of a man who once thought himself chosen by destiny.
The crowd continued murmuring behind him. Lu Xio’s na, which monts ago echoed in admiration, now trembled in disgust.
The karmic wheel had turned faster than anyone expected.
Leo’s faint smirk returned, almost invisible. The script remains the sa, he thought, but the roles... I decide who plays them.
The wind brushed past, scattering the last whispers of chaos, as if even the heavens silently acknowledged the new author of fate.
---
End of Chapter
---
Want to read advanced Chapter?
Give your stone to this novel to reach the milestone that will give you bonus Chapter per day!!!
10-20 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter / Day
20-30 Power Stones = 2 Bonus Chapters / Day
30-40 Power Stones = 3 Bonus Chapters / Day
Please support ?
See ya!
Reviews
All reviews (0)