Yang Jian × Jiang Ziya
A formidable duo · Fate as the game board · Happy ending
The day Jiang Ziya came down from the mountain, he never imagined that his tribulation would be Yang Jian.
He would support the rightful ruler and punish the tyrant. At first sight of his frosty nephew-disciple, with a third eye on his forehead, he thought only that he’d gained a sharp blade.
Yang Jian descended to the mortal realm by imperial order to keep an eye on this “Chosen One” and see whether he was truly worthy of wielding the Investiture of the Gods.
One commanded the pieces across the world; the other had been ordered to keep watch.
Yet the pawn would warm a pot of tea for him late at night, be the first to rush into the command tent when he coughed up blood, and use his own body to shield him from Wen Zhong’s twin whips at the Ten Ultimate Formations. Little by little, the player realized that he no longer wanted to be just a player in this game.
The tension of their first meeting, risking their lives for each other beneath Chaoge, and fighting side by side amid blood at the Zhuxian Formation: something had quietly changed in the midst of blood and fire.
Until the day Yang Jian carried him out of the formation, covered in blood, his voice hoarse and breaking. “Martial Uncle, if you die, I’d rather give up being the God of War.”
Jiang Ziya suddenly found himself unable to calculate anything. He couldn’t tell when the warmth of one person had entered the fate of the realm, or why, among the 365 names on the Investiture of the Gods, the one person he should have held closest to his heart was the only one missing.
As baleful energy surged before the Ten Ultimate Formations, his hand, gripping the God-Striking Whip, trembled for the first time. It turned out that what a player feared most was having their heart on the game board.
“Jian’er,” he said softly amid the smoke, with a vast realm behind him and the bloodied face of the man before him. “I’ve lost this game.”
But Yang Jian smiled, his third eye reflecting the flames of war and Jiang Ziya himself. “Martial Uncle, you never won.”
Not from the very first glance.
