Chapter 368: Weaving Fate

The sound interrupted Chen Ling’s train of thought. He pondered for a moment in the room before opening the door.

His eyes were bloodshot, revealing a mix of anger, exhaustion, and helplessness. He stood weakly at the doorway.

“What is it?”

Standing at the counter was the handsome young man who had asked him about his glasses the other day. He blinked at Chen Ling and asked crisply, “Boss, I want to play basketball.”

“Huh?”

“Basketball!” The young man demonstrated a dribble between his legs, then turned and deftly shrugged his shoulders twice. “I want to play basketball. Do you have it here?”

“...No.”

Upon hearing those two words, a clear look of disappointment appeared on the young man’s face. Just as he was about to leave, dejected, his gaze caught something, and his eyes lit up slightly.

“Boss~”

“Now what?” Chen Ling was about to resume contemplating his Tier 3 skill, but having been interrupted again, he spoke with resignation.

“Are you still using that basket? Can I have it?”

The young man pointed to a discarded bamboo basket in the corner. Chen Ling glanced over and waved his hand dismissively. “Take it.”

Delighted, the young man picked up the basket and went into the courtyard. He quickly disassembled the woven bamboo, then began to re-interlace it in his hands. Like magic, in no time, he had woven a simple hollow ball.

The boy was quite skilled with his hands. A thought flickered through Chen Ling's mind, but he quickly averted his gaze, no longer paying attention to the young man.

The young man went by himself to the backyard, endlessly throwing and catching the ball, thoroughly enjoying himself. Before long, another figure descended the stairs and headed straight into the courtyard. Her voice again interrupted Chen Ling’s contemplation.

“Hello, have you seen my brother?” It was the woman in green, who had been with the young man, speaking in a gentle and soft voice.

Chen Ling pointed to the backyard.

The woman in green saw the young man playing in the backyard and frowned slightly. “Why are you playing with a ball again?” She walked over to the young man, reached up, caught the hollow bamboo ball as it fell, and spoke in a deep voice.

The young man’s hand grasped at air. He glared, clearly indignant. “I’m not playing; I’m playing basketball!”

“What you should be doing right now is studying painting and practicing dance, not wasting time playing with a ball here.”

Hearing this exchange, Chen Ling lowered his gaze behind the counter, completely uninterested. Such scenes of parents lecturing children were the same, whether before or after the Great Cataclysm.

“I don’t like those things!” the young man shouted, craning his neck stubbornly.

“You rascal.” The woman in green’s face darkened considerably. “If you can’t paint and have no skill to rely on, you’ll have no future! Do you truly want to stay in this small town your whole life?”

“Why isn’t playing basketball considered a skill? Why does it have no future?”

“That’s just how this era is! Have you ever seen anyone make it into the main city by playing basketball?”

“I don’t care!” the young man yelled furiously, “Just because others can’t do it, does that mean I can’t? I’ve played basketball since I was a child; I’m good at this! This is my skill! I haven’t learned painting or dancing, nor do I have talent for them. So why can’t I forge my own path? Do what I’m good at?”

“You!”

The young man’s shouts were loud enough for residents on other floors to hear, but they didn’t attract any particular attention, only prompting a sigh about the passion and persistence of youth.

Behind the counter, Chen Ling, whose thoughts had been repeatedly interrupted by the young man and the woman in green, was slightly shaken.

Forge my own path...

For some reason, among all the young man had said, these five words suddenly seared themselves into Chen Ling's mind like a steel stamp, refusing to fade. He subconsciously looked toward the backyard.

“Be yourself? How old are you? Do you have the ability to distinguish right from wrong?”

“Does it matter if I can distinguish it?”

The young man gritted his teeth, crouched slightly, then suddenly leaped high. His fingertips easily snatched the bamboo ball that the woman held high above her head.

“I remember the feel of the basketball every time I touched it, the exhilaration of every bead of sweat. They’ve become instincts, deeply etched into my mind, allowing me to do what you can’t! I don’t want to be those painters or big stars; none of them are me! I want to be myself!”

Thwack—!

The young man seemed enraged. He forcefully flung the bamboo ball from his hand; it whistled past the woman in green’s ear, bounced high off the wall behind, and, by unlucky coincidence, struck and killed an ant watching from the grass.

At this moment, the young man’s words resonated in Chen Ling’s ears like a clap of thunder!

None of them are me... I want to be myself.

Chen Ling’s eyes grew brighter and brighter!

That’s right!

Whether it was *Sheng*, *Dan*, *Jing*, *Mo*, *Chou* roles or other characters, none of them were truly Chen Ling. No matter how much he acted or how deeply he immersed himself, it was extremely difficult to generate a sense of conviction!

If that was the case, why should he play theatrical roles instead of simply playing himself?

His childhood passion and countless hours of practice had deeply ingrained basketball in the young man's heart. When he engaged in these activities, he naturally developed a sense of conviction... And Chen Ling himself had once felt such conviction!

“What I’m good at... isn’t *Sheng*, *Dan*, *Jing*, *Mo*, or *Chou*, nor is it any other character performed on stage... For me, all of it has just been an act…”

“My true role should be... that of a director?”

Audience Anticipation: 3

Chen Ling’s eyes sparkled like stars!

At this moment, the mist shrouding his path completely dispersed, revealing a desolate road, almost entirely untrodden, before Chen Ling’s eyes!

Having acquired *Wuxiang*, Chen Ling naturally possessed the ability to play roles, but fundamentally, his thought process remained that of a director!

Slaying his way through the tavern on Ice Spring Street and toying with the enforcers; committing suicide at the start of the Ancient Military Cache and instigating a brawl from behind the scenes; forcefully driving a train into Aurora City, and the recent magic show… Everything Chen Ling had done to reach this point, every incident he experienced, he approached from the perspective of a director to solve problems. This was his habitual way of thinking, acquired from years of studying directing and working in that industry before he transmigrated!

Since he lacked the talent for *Sheng*, *Dan*, *Jing*, *Mo*, or *Chou* roles, why should he follow their path instead of forging a path unique to his own role as a director? Perhaps this Tier 3 skill didn't require him to embody anyone else… but to be Chen Ling, the director—to be himself!

To influence his surroundings with the sense of conviction he felt as a director…

The woman in green, angrily dragging the young man by the ear, walked all the way back to their room. The young man’s wails reached Chen Ling’s ears, but he no longer had any mind to listen.

At this moment, Chen Ling stood motionless behind the deserted counter, holding a pen suspended in the air, like a statue.

This process lasted a full five minutes. Only then did the tip of his pen firmly touch the paper, and the ink bloomed on the page as Chen Ling, in a state of mental whirlwind, slowly and decisively wrote two characters.

Weaving Fate.