Chapter Text
‘No...no...Jiuer...’
‘Look at where your bao qian* has gotten us!’ shouted Bai Qian, tipping between fury and catatonia. ‘Your bao qian was useless! Your bao qian destroyed the world!’
Bai Qian already held Ye Hua in her arms and sobbed over his lifeless body. Although she might seem incapacitated, though, her godly power was at full strength. With his own cultivation depleted, Dijun was too weak to stop Bai Qian from magically wrenching Jiuer’s bloodied, limp body from his embrace and phasing her niece to her side.
The silver-haired, former Great King of Heaven could barely support his own weight as he stretched a shaky arm out toward his beloved fox princess and rasped, ‘Jiuer....Jiuer....’
That was how Mo Yuan found things when he arrived not long afterward.
Bai Qian unresponsive, her two, fallen loved-ones clutched tightly in her arms inside an impenetrable shield. Dijun collapsed in the sand, his cultivation drained. Soldiers and officials kneeling and despairing of how they would explain this calamity to Heaven Lord.
Most troubling of all, though, was Zhe Yan, who stood too quietly to the side with Bai Zhen. The officials had turned to Zhe Yan, as the most-powerful immortal present in that moment, for advice on how they should explain this terrible turn of events to Heaven Lord. But Zhe Yan had only waved them away with an odd remark.
I think she will hold the Crown Prince and sit by the Ruoshui River for the rest of her life.
To Dijun and Mo Yuan, Zhe Yan’s fellow ancients, the remark was ominous.
Zhe Yan had the power of foresight.
Sometimes, his remarks were innocent, designed to quell the anxieties of those around him.
Other times, his remarks carried warnings.
This was the last thought that Dijun had before he collapsed. By the time he regained consciousness, a full year had passed. He was still weak, but Si Ming must have sent him into another mortal trial, because Dijun felt that more of his cultivation had returned in just one year than should have been possible if he had merely been sleeping.
‘It is as Dijun suspects,’ Si Ming confirmed when he arrived in Tai Chen Palace. ‘Tianjun instructed me to do so, on the advice of Mo Yuan. The realms remain in a state of disquiet. Ye Hua is now buried with his ancestors in the Wuwang Sea. The Ghost Realm has fallen into anarchy and the Demon kingdoms are eyeing its territory. And there have been random lightning strikes, none of them associated with any immortal’s heavenly trial. It is as if the Donghuang Bell was not fully sealed by Ye Hua’s spirit.’
Seated on his divan, Dijun remained silent for several moments as he contemplated the meaning of these developments. The governance of the realms was faltering and war was brewing. The heavenly lightning was unpredictable. But his next question was unrelated to those things.
‘And how is Jiuer?’
Si Ming tensed and his eyes fell to his feet. He shook his head but did not speak.
Dijun, who was widely rumored to be made of stone, in that moment truly did feel his heart weighing heavily in his chest, cold and dead as stone. His jaw clenched but he kept his expression neutral as he ordered, ‘Say it.’
Si Ming reluctantly obeyed, his shoulders hunched and his head still bowed. ‘It is believed that she is dead. Qingqiu has shared no news of her and has remained closed to the outside world since the Battle of Ruoshui.’
It was a reflection of how deeply Jiuer had planted herself in his heart, body, and soul that Dijun was unable to maintain his composure in front of Si Ming. A single tear slipped from his eye and trailed down his cheek.
‘I have heard it. You may leave,’ he dismissed Si Ming, who showed the proper respect by leaving as quietly as possible. Only then did Dijun lean forward on his divan and spit blood on the two steps leading up to his elevated platform.
Although there was a very, very small chance that Jiuer remained alive and was being safeguarded by her family, the likelihood that she was gone forever broke Dijun’s heart. He needed answers. Things had been bad at Ruoshui, but why had they gotten worse? With the rebellious Ghost Lord Qing Cang defeated, why was the heavenly lightning itself in seeming rebellion against the natural order?
He needed answers. And those, he was most likely to get from Mo Yuan.
Dijun sat and engaged in regulated breathing for the next hour, to ensure that he was strong enough to make the journey to Kunlun Mountain. He could feel his cultivation, still weak but stronger than it had been for many years, perhaps half of what it had been before...
...before he had first transferred some of it, willingly, to Jiuer when the wild phoenix had injured her.
Si Ming must have outdone himself with whatever mortal trial he had scripted for Dijun. Someday, Dijun would ask him for the details. But now, he launched himself into the sky directly from Tai Chen Palace and descended from the perpetual, dawn glow of Heaven Kingdom to the clear, pure air that cradled the sacred peaks of Kunlun. When Dijun alighted on the stone pavilion at the entrance to Mo Yuan’s temple, he was greeted by two of Mo Yuan’s disciples and escorted immediately into Mo Yuan’s receiving hall. That the disciples did not even ask Dijun’s purpose in visiting their Master made it clear that Mo Yuan had been waiting for him and had instructed his disciples on what to do as soon as Dijun appeared.
Sure enough, Mo Yuan was already seated on a divan when they entered the receiving hall.
‘You are awake. I am glad to see you well, my friend,’ Mo Yuan welcomed him as Dijun eased himself down onto a nearby divan. A disciple approached and silently served them both tea.
Dijun nodded at him, but explained to the only one who could understand, ‘I am not well.’
The slightest furrow in Mo Yuan’s brow testified to his comprehension. The God of War lowered his eyes in unspoken acknowledgment. Mo Yuan, too, had lost the woman he loved, although she was still alive.
But Dijun could not wallow in self-pity. He continued, ‘Si Ming greeted my awakening with troubling news of the lightning of heaven, and rumblings of war in the realms.’
Mo Yuan nodded. ‘It is as if the laws of nature are fraying, along with the rules of governance and every treaty you secured during the wars of unification are now unraveling.’
‘Have you consulted with Zhe Yan?’ Dijun asked. ‘What has he seen?’
Mo Yuan’s eyes were heavy with forboding as he shook his head and explained, ‘Zhe Yan said he would only speak to you and I at the same time. He has remained in Qingqiu and refused to communicate with any others. This is why it is good you have awakened, Dijun. I have already sent two of my disciples to Qingqiu with the message that you and I await Zhe Yan.’
Dijun sipped his tea. Only the tightening of his grip on the cup suggested concern. Yet he was already analyzing the capabilities of Heaven Kingdom to deal with a threat of greatest magnitude. For surely, it must be a calamity if Zhe Yan would not even speak to Heaven Kingdom’s emissaries – or to Mo Yuan without Dijun also present.
How had it come to this, when they had just defeated Qing Cang? Dijun wondered.
And, in the innermost part of his mind, there came a quiet thought:
Am I soon to be reunited with Jiuer?
As enlightened as he was, Dijun had always embraced the truth that, one day, he would step into oblivion, like all other beings were destined to do. This was the first time where he felt his heart yearn for it.
Mo Yuan and Dijun had nearly finished their pot of tea when Mo Yuan’s disciples announced the arrival of Zhe Yan, who entered the room without haste, his peach robes hardly disturbed by his strides. However, his usual, serene expression, which always bore a hint of amusement, was uncharacteristically sober.
‘Congratulations on your recovery, Dong Hua,’ Zhe Yan remarked when he had taken his seat opposite Dijun, and to Mo Yuan’s left.
Dijun inclined his head and replied smoothly. ‘Thank you. It seems I have kept you waiting, though.’
Zhe Yan shook his head. ‘It was more important that you regain as much of your strength as possible for what needs to be done. It will take all three of us, acting in unison, and even then, I cannot be certain that we will succeed. My vision cannot see beyond a certain point.’
‘What must be done?’ Mo Yuan asked, his eyes narrowed in intense concentration. Dijun, too, leaned forward slightly on his divan. This was the first conversation in over a generation that had been of any consequence.
Except for every conversation with Jiuer....every word...
‘The Rock of Lives must be shattered and destiny plunged into chaos briefly, but within the circle of our control, if we are to have any hope of saving as much of the realms as possible from destruction,’ came Zhe Yan’s answer.
It was more than shocking and left both Dijun and Mo Yuan speechless for some time.
‘Why are you saying this, Zhe Yan?’ Dijun asked at last. ‘Such an action could lay waste to the Universe itself. What has made this necessary?’
‘I dreaded that this might have happened,’ Mo Yuan spoke before Zhe Yan could answer, his eyes haunted. He leaned on his knee and clenched his fist. ‘When I finally pieced my soul together, while Qing Cang was still imprisoned in the Donghuang Bell, I altered it so that no other would ever have to sacrifice his spirit to disarm the weapon again. It would be too great a price to ask of anyone else. But then, Ye Hua took action before I could arrive. His spirit was too powerful for the Donghuang Bell, and that has damaged the foundations of the realms.’
Zhe Yan shook his head wearily. ‘No, Mo Yuan, this is not your fault. This calamity is due to more than anyone could have foreseen. The Father of the Gods established as one of the oldest laws of nature, one that separated chaos from order, the care of a parent for a child. But two reigning, immortal monarchs killed their own descendants, around the same time that the Donghuang Bell had strained the architecture of the realms. And that has cracked the Rock of Lives. Mo Yuan, Dong Hua, the Rock of Lives is now doomed to shatter, and when it does, it will lay waste to the Universe. Unless the three of us take control of it, break it deliberately, and then guide the process through the shortest possible period of chaos.’
‘Which rulers killed their children?’ Dijun asked, his brow furrowed at the thought that such wickedness had happened in not just one realm, but two.
‘Ghost Lord Qing Cang murdered his son, Li Jing, when the latter attempted to destroy him. And Tianjun unknowingly killed his grandson, Ye Hua, when he sent troops to claim the his body from Bai Qian. She and other members of the Bai Clan had been keeping him from succumbing to death...as they have been doing for Fengjiu...but when Hao De Tianjun insisted on entombing Ye Hua with the imperial ancestors of Heaven Kingdom, he truly killed his own grandson.’
Dijun clutched tightly at his armrest and leaned toward Zhe Yan with an audible gasp. ‘Jiuer...Fengjiu...is alive?!’
It was the first time that Zhe Yan had smiled since arriving at Kunlun. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. ‘Yes, old friend. Fengjiu is alive, but she hovers on the horizon between life and death. In saving the realms from destruction, there is some hope that she could be saved, too. But it will take the three of us acting together, and I cannot promise that we will not all lose a great deal. We may not even remember the world as it is now. But the world will continue to exist.’
The three Ancients sat together in silence. The mood was profoundly sober. Dijun and Mo Yuan trusted that what Zhe Yan said was true, for he had never been known to lie, and would not lie about something so devastating as this. They were confronted with a deadly imperative, one that could not be avoided.
At last, Dijun spoke. ‘I will need to cultivate for five years without interruption in order to regain my full strength. Do we have that long?’
Zhe Yan paused and his eyes went distant for a moment. He tilted his head slightly to the side. ‘Three years, more likely. We might possibly stretch it to four years, but we would risk suffering in the realms.’
‘Suffering may be a necessary price for survival,’ Mo Yuan pointed out grimly. ‘Unless we can draw upon more immortals.’
‘That is possible, but it could increase the risk of failure,’ Zhe Yan observed. ‘Their cultivation would strengthen us. However, our actions must be perfectly coordinated, or we may lose the power to force the chaos under our control. The three of us know each other very well and can move as one.’
‘My disciple Die Feng has studied with me for tens of thousands of years. He can align his actions with mine with great precision,’ Mo Yuan declared.
Zhe Yan nodded thoughtfully, and followed, ‘Indeed, Bai Zhen has been by my side for nearly as long, and is capable of anticipating my movements.’
‘So, five of us,’ Mo Yuan concluded. His eyes glanced to Dijun and a half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘I doubt that there are any, other than us, who could move in harmony with Dijun.’
‘Si Ming has on many occasions anticipated my actions,’ Dijun countered. ‘And his knowledge of all the realms, including the mortal realms, rivals my own. We can be six.’
‘So be it,’ Zhe Yan agreed. ‘I will explain to you how we must do what is needed. Then, I propose that we meet here again with our seconds exactly two years from this day, and the six of us will spend one year preparing together.’
‘In the meantime, each of us will build his strength,’ Mo Yuan acknowledged. Dijun nodded in agreement.
Their expressions hardened by the burden of knowing the terrible calamity that was about to befall the realms, the three Ancients proceeded slowly out to the main terrace in front of the temple. Mo Yuan bid Dijun and Zhe Yan farewell, then went to find his First Disciple, to give him the unfortunate privilege of sharing their knowledge of the doom that they must bring upon the realms in order to save them.
Zhe Yan turned, nodded at Dijun, and prepared to return to Qingqiu and his peach orchard.
‘Zhe Yan,’ Dijun said, halting the Ancient Phoenix’s departure.
Of course, Zhe Yan already knew what Dijun was going to ask.
With pain in his eyes that surely was great enough to shatter the Rock of Lives singlehandedly, Dijun murmured, ‘May I see her?’