Wang Xian lay alone on the rooftop, his hands behind his head, eyes lost in the sea of stars above.
Digitization had brought many changes to the world—some terrifying, others magnificent. The night sky was one of the latter. It no longer glimmered with the dull haze of pollution. It was now vast, clean, breathtaking—a true celestial canvas. The Milky Way itself painted a radiant trail overhead.
It should've brought him peace.
But all it brought was confusion.
He had done everything right.
He'd changed fate. Prevented deaths. Amassed power. Led his group to dominate the rankings. They were living proof that rebirth wasn't a curse—it was a second chance.
So why did he feel like he was still stuck?
Ever since he reached level 20, since that cursed system whispered new stats into his ear, he had been adrift.
[Human King Soul – Forbidden Rank]
It was supposed to be a gift. A power that would shield others, a noble blessing. But to Wang Xian, it was something else entirely—a crown too heavy, forged from expectations he never asked for.
The more he thought about it, the less he felt like himself. Was he a warrior? A mage? A support? A leader? A tool?
Or just a pawn in some grand cosmic plan?
A sigh escaped him.
Then came the voice.
"Well, well... isn't this where the great future powerhouse hides to sulk?"
Wang Xian didn't have to turn around.
"Nangong Wu," he muttered, eyes still fixed on the stars. "Can't even have a breakdown in peace?"
Footsteps padded lightly along the tiles, until she was beside him, her silhouette framed by starlight. She crouched, then sat cross-legged, peering down at him with a teasing smile.
"You don't look like someone enjoying the stars," she said.
"You're in the way."
He pushed her head aside like he might shoo away a fly. She smacked his hand lightly.
"You're confused," she said softly.
Wang Xian didn't answer. Not directly. He just grunted, a noncommittal sound buried somewhere between irritation and agreement.
"You know, when I inherited the Nangong Group, I felt the same," she continued, her tone losing its playfulness. "I thought I'd won. That all the work was behind me. But the moment I sat in that chair... it was like someone had reached into my chest and pulled everything out."
She leaned back on her elbows, eyes reflecting the starlight. "People think power feels good. But sometimes, it's just... empty."
Wang Xian turned slightly, watching her from the corner of his eye. Her expression was calm. Honest. Vulnerable.
It caught him off guard.
"The stronger I get," he said quietly, "the more I feel like I'm being shaped into something. Not by choice. Like… the system's molding me. Like it has plans, and I'm just going along for the ride."
"Do you want to stop?"
He paused. Thought. Exhaled.
"No."
"Then maybe it's not about becoming what you're told to be," she said, pointing to the sky. "Maybe it's about choosing where you go once you get there. The stars don't form their constellations for us. We draw the lines ourselves."
He turned his gaze upward again. The sky was so wide. Too wide. And yet, just a little less lonely now.
"I wanted to become the top powerhouse," he murmured. "Take revenge. Protect what mattered. Stand at the top."
"And now?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Now I just don't want to lose myself doing it."
Nangong Wu smiled, soft and real this time.
"Then don't. You already know what's right. You're just afraid of what it'll cost."
"Is this your plan? Philosophical ambush therapy?"
"Consider it your Qixi gift," she said, grinning.
Wang Xian gave her a long look. "You're dangerous."
"Of course. All pretty girls are."
He chuckled—just once—but it felt better than he expected.
As they both lay back again, shoulder to shoulder, eyes to the stars, silence fell once more. Not the heavy kind that came with burdens. This one was lighter. Calmer.
And as the digital sky spun slowly above, Wang Xian finally let himself breathe.