CHAPTER 539: A THOUSAND TURNS BEFORE FALLING (PART ONE)

Uncle Lin walked leisurely along the narrow stone path, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. The early autumn sun spilled through the branches, washing the world in a golden hue. Rows of maple and ginkgo trees lined both sides of the path, their leaves whispering softly with each passing breeze. One by one, they drifted down, painting the ground in fiery shades of red, orange, and brown.

Every unhurried step he took carried a quiet calm, the kind that made anyone walking beside him feel inexplicably at ease.

Micah followed a few steps behind, his expression thoughtful. Every time he opened his mouth, the words seemed to stick in his throat. How could he even begin to explain something like this? It was absurd. No, beyond absurd. Heaven-defying, if such a thing could be said aloud.

His palms were cold despite the mild weather. He rubbed them together discreetly, eyes lowered to the leaf-littered path.

Micah knew Grandpa Lin was like the old orthodox masters, conservative in speech, precise and righteous in gesture, the type of man who believed every word carried weight.

How was Micah supposed to tell someone like that about different endings, alternate plots, or God forbid, dog-blooded danmei novels?

He swallowed. Even thinking those words made him feel ridiculous.

Still, he had come here for a reason.

Uncle Lin stopped briefly to observe a squirrel darting up a tree, the corners of his mouth twitching with faint amusement. The silence between them stretched, but Uncle Lin never once rushed the young man to talk.

After some pondering, Micah finally spoke. "Grandpa Lin..." His voice trembled slightly. "Do you remember the time when I was struggling? When I didn’t know what I should do? When it felt like... the whole world was a weight on my shoulders, guilt, responsibility, loneliness....all of it."

The old man’s steps slowed. He turned his head slightly, the morning light glinting off his white hair. His eyes, deep and clouded with years, seemed to hold an ocean of quiet understanding.

"Yes," he said softly, stroking the short beard along his chin. "That was the time when your heart carried a burden too heavy for your frame. Your soul wandered, disconnected from your body. The mark of one still searching for his place."

He paused, his gaze drifting to the sky. "But the one who was lost back then is no longer the same. The void had shifted."

Micah nodded slowly, misinterpreting the words. He thought Uncle Lin was referring to the incident of the swapped identities, the fake and true young master. In truth, Uncle Lin’s thoughts had strayed somewhere else entirely: to Micah hesitating about being with Clyde. The misunderstanding from last time still lingered.

Micah inhaled shakily, forcing himself to continue. "I’m sorry. You once told me that I was making excuses, hiding behind recklessness, impulsiveness, and using chaos as a shield to protect myself from disappointments. You said maybe I was chosen for a reason....that perhaps the universe had already tried every other option... and finally decided to gamble everything on me."

His voice cracked. "You said maybe I was the last hope..."

Uncle Lin made no sound. He simply watched the young man.

Micah licked his dry lips, his throat tight. "But even after hearing that, I still find myself doubting. I keep asking...Was it the right thing? Should I have done it differently? What if I fail like everyone before me? What if my failure doesn’t just destroy me, but drags others down too?"

He looked down at his shoes, dirt clinging to the soles. "I realised... what I am trying to change is not just about me.... It’s about other people’s lives. Their futures. And that terrifies me."

A breeze swept through the path, scattering leaves into the air. Micah’s hair fluttered against his forehead as he spoke again.

"These fears grew louder and clearer in my head with every passing day. And then I came across someone else. That person was similar to me. He tried to warn me."

Uncle Lin’s brow creased slightly.

"I got lost. I got scared," Micah admitted. "Should I keep gambling everything on what that universe had shown me? Or should I step aside and let someone else take my place? I have nothing to make others believe in me. It’s just some words that the wind could scatter in a few seconds. How do you decide what’s right? I am talking about someone’s fate. I have the power to modify it. And that frightens me more than anything. One tiny mistake, one tiny wrong move... and it could destroy everything..."

Micah swallowed hard. When he realised Darcy had also dreamed about the future, or about the book, he was scared of the deeper meaning behind it. Did that mean he had failed? That the easy mood had suddenly turned into the final stage, where Darcy and Clyde were doomed to die?

And the way Clyde had tried to downplay Darcy’s words, there was a huge possibility that Clyde also had received something similar. And with not telling him anything about it, even though he knew Micah had the same dream, it meant the ending was not a happy one. That probably Clyde or Micah or Darcy would be dead in it.

The feeling of dread spread more and more inside him. What should he do? Wasn’t it because of his incapability that resulted in more death flags?

But he needed assurance. Blindly talking about it, Micah feared Clyde would lose it. The man was already overprotective enough. Saying he would die because of those four scums, Micah was sure Clyde would put him under home arrest or something for the rest of his life.

Meanwhile, Uncle Lin’s expression grew grimmer the longer he listened to Micah’s words. From what he understood, a third party had come between Micah and Clyde’s relationship, perhaps one from Clyde’s past. Or someone with ill intentions trying to drive a wedge between them. The words about the universe and warnings sounded more like a troubled heart than prophecy.

What exactly had happened? That hopeless man, Clyde Du Pont! How could he let Micah become this distraught?