39 – Echoes of Xuan

“Do you have a name?” I asked the fawn as I wandered the damaged courtyard, looking for a decent place to wait.

“No,” she answered, trotting right behind me and inspecting every interesting piece of debris.

“First Mother said spiritual beasts only get names after reaching Foundation Establishment,” she added, speeding up to keep pace with my longer strides.

“Well, that won’t do. I can’t keep calling you ‘little fawn’ forever, especially after you saved me back there.”

The fawn gasped. “You’re going to name me?”

“Yeah. Got any ideas?”

She leapt into my arms. I caught her easily.

“No idea!” she said, eyes glittering with excitement. “I believe in you!”

I chuckle as I bet this is what expression pets would have if they understand that they are going to be named. Now then, let’s see. White fur. Close enough to silver. Oh yeah. I have a fitting name for her.

“From now on you will be Yínruì (銀瑞|Auspicious Silver). It was the closest I have to the meaning of ‘Silver Lining’.”

“Yinrui…” The fawn repeated it a few times, then shouted happily, “I am Yinrui!”

She looked up at me with sparkling eyes. “Since you named me… can I call you Papa again?”

She will die…

Butchered. Skinned,. Eaten.

Everyone will rejoice in her death!

“What!?”

“Is that a no?” Her ears dropped

“What? No. Sure, you can call me that again.” I blurted out in panic

“Yay!” Yinrui cheered, immediately perking up again.

I looked at the fawn again. This is one time I am glad I have no face. I don't know what kind of face I will make when hearing that. This makes Yinrui the second person the Noosphere have declared will die along with senior sister Zhaoxia. But Yinrui is much more ominous. It's okay. It's okay. The book said that the truth I will be perceiving might be the future. So not set in stone. Hopefully. Fuck! This is why I hate fortune telling.

Besides, why did I just hear about Yinrui now and not before though? This is not the first time I met her eyes directly. Then again, I did not perceive anything when meeting Hanhua and Baoji previously. The former wear a mask and the latter have no eyes. So having eyes or direct eye contact and knowing their name were the requirements?

“Papa, what is ‘silver lining’?” Yinrui asked curiously as she trotted beside me.

“It’s a phrase from my old home,” I explained. “It means finding a bit of hope or comfort in a bad situation. Like how dark clouds have silver edges when the sun shines behind them.”

“I like it,” she said happily.

“Good.”

“Can you show me how to write it?”

“Sure.” I project the two characters 銀瑞 with my soul projection in the air

“No, no,” Yinrui shook her head. “I mean with your hand. Like actually writing it.”

I paused. Looking at the two characters I project. Fuck! I can read the characters, yes. But I cannot write it! I squint at the two complex characters. Where do I even start with this?

“Papa can’t write?” Yinrui asked after a long silence.

“…No,” I admitted honestly.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

I closed my eyes and looked away, feeling strangely stung by a child’s quiet disappointment.

“Let’s just find an intact building to sit in for a while.”

After wandering through the damaged guest residence, I finally found a section that had somehow undamaged. Though it looks like the place is occupied already. I approach the old man sitting on a…

“Holy shit. Is that a rocking chair?” I hopped towards the chair

The rocking chair looks finely made from dark polished wood with smooth curves. The wide seat and backrest is covered with some kind of smooth leather. I grip the backrest and almost rock it if I did not see the old man glaring at me. 

I met his eyes, but the Noosphere remained silent. Interesting. Either eye contact and knowing someone’s name were both required, or this old man was far stronger than me. He appeared to be in his early forties. Most of his long hair had turned white, while his short, neatly trimmed beard remained black. He wore a luxurious flowing purple robe embroidered with gold, so clearly someone of high status.

“Can this old man sit in peace, young man?” he finally spoke.

“Ah, right. Sorry,” I let go of the chair. “First time seeing a rocking chair. The place we were staying got… trashed somehow. Mind if I wait here for a while?”

The old man closed his eyes again. “Sure. Just don’t bother me.”

“Bad day, huh?” I asked.

He answered with a long exhale.

After a moment, he spoke again. “Is a rocking chair really that surprising?”

I thought he wanted to be left alone?

“Well, not normally,” I replied. “But my grandfather threw a massive fit when his broke, and apparently no one made them anymore for decades. He was pissed.”

“I see. Then what do old men sit on in your world?”

“Something like this.” I projected a modern recliner with plush memory foam cushions.

The old man inspected it closely, pressing his hand into the cushion. “What is this made of?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Hmm. Adequate,” he muttered. “Can I try it?”

“Depends, can I try yours?”

He squinted at me. My father’s words about old men being territorial over their favorite chairs seemed to be true.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” His tone turned serious as he stood up.

“What do you mean?”

“The monks are currently discussing your fate, yet here you are. Are you stupid? Or just supremely confident?”

“I don’t know. What do you expect me to do?”

“Get in there! Barge in! Whatever!” He started shouting, seemingly more infuriated with my response

“That sounds impolite. I can wait.”

The old man stared at me like I was some incomprehensible creature. “Are you always this passive?”

“Pretty much.”

“Doesn’t that feel miserable?”

“Very.”

“Then why?”

“I guess… you just get used to it.” I shrugged

“No. This cannot do!” he declared. “Go out there and confront those monks right now!”

“Why should I? They’ll come find me when they’re done.”

This seemed to infuriate him even more. “If you don’t go I will…” He looked around wildly before pointing at his rocking chair. “I will destroy that chair!”

“But that’s yours?” I am confused to where this is going

“Not just this one! I’ll destroy every rocking chair in the world!” he raged.

“Alright, alright! I’ll go. No need to be so petty,” I sighed. I had no idea why he was so worked up, but I didn’t want to cause trouble for others.

I looked down at Yinrui, who had been listening quietly in my arms.

“Would you mind watching her while I’m gone?” I asked the old man.

He took a deep breath and finally nodded. I set Yinrui down gently.

“Behave, okay?”

“You’re coming back, right?” she asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry. I promised, didn’t I?”

With that, I turned and left the courtyard. Hopefully I’m going the right way this time.

—

Elder Bàojī appeared behind the old man, grinning ear to ear, his white teeth gleaming.

“Wipe that grin off your face,” the old man said.

Bàojī tried to press his lips together, but it only made his grin look even more mocking.

“So this was still within your prediction?” the old man asked.

“Oh I don’t exactly predict anything.” Bàojī replied cheerfully. “I just know that you can never accept his antics. After all, it would be insulting not only to you.” He stops there respectfully, then added with another wide grin, “Never expect you to be so petty to wager all the rocking chairs on the entire world though.”

“It was the only thing I could think of at the time,” the old man muttered, sinking back into his rocking chair.

“Don’t worry too much. He simply never had the chance to steer his own life before.”

“And yet Heaven chose him as the replacement,” the old man sighed. “The world must truly be going mad.”

Bàojī chuckled. “Don’t worry too much. He won’t stay that way for long. TAt least then you won’t feel so insulted.” He paused, then laughed again. “Actually… maybe you should worry. Considering who his adoptive father is. Haha!”

“You can shut up now,” the old man groaned, massaging his temples as a new headache formed. “I deserve at least that much.”

“Yinrui, right? Come here.” the old man said, patting his thigh. “Or do you prefer the alternative?”

Yinrui glanced nervously at the still grinning Bàojī and immediately hopped onto the old man’s lap without a second thought.

“Old man…” Yinrui asks as he lie on the old man lap

“Call me Zichen.” Yinrui tilted her head. The name sounded strangely familiar.

“Old man Zichen, what were you and Baoji talking about?”

The old man gently stroked her soft white fur. “Just… old man things.”

—

Back in the main temple hall.

“This should be reasonable enough,” Abbot Zhàoshì concluded.

Changsheng and Jianglong nodded in agreement, but Fumo’s frown only deepened. TThe trials his master proposed were the same ones inner disciples of Lingshan Temple faced upon reaching Foundation Establishment. Difficult, but fair. What Fumo could not accept was the condition attached, that if Danxing fails, he must swear to the heavens to abandon cultivation entirely and live as a mortal. Refusal meant death.

Fumo had intended to introduce Danxing’s situation and request guidance. Instead, it now felt like he had lured his friend into a death trap.

“I understand how you feel, Fumo,” Changsheng said to Fumo, “But do you understand what you have done to us? Or has your attachment clouded your judgement?”

Only then did the realization hit Fumo fully. It wasn’t just that he had nearly lied to his master and senior brothers. That much is clear enough. By bringing Danxing here while knowing his background, he had placed the entire Lingshan Temple in an impossible position. Had the sect discovered the truth on their own, they could have quietly sent him away. Some might not accept it due to the history between Luochen and the temple, but it is better than the alternative. The alternative which is happening right now. 

The surrounding sects have somehow known the background of Danxing before the entire Lingshan Temple. This has made sending Danxing off without doing anything an impossibility. Doing nothing would be seen as a betrayal of their shared grudge. Something Lingshan temple absolutely cannot have. And like with the previous discussion, killing Danxing within the temple grounds when he has come as a guest will forever stain the sect’s reputation.

Fumo bowed down and pressed his forehead to the floor. “I apologize for my short-sightedness. I have no excuse.”

Thunder rumbled outside the temple. Then another thunder struck in front of the main door.

“I will decide your punishment later,” Abbot Zhàoshì said calmly. “For now, we will welcome our guest.”

Contrary to the violent arrival typical of the Great Thundergod Steps, the temple doors opened slowly and quietly. A deer skull with three pairs of purple eyes peeks in.

“Excuse me,” the tall figure asked politely. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” Chánshèng replied warmly, while Jianglong struggled to keep his expression neutral.

The door opens wide as the tall guest enters. The guest stepped forward. The moment his leather boot touched the floor, a cacophony of screams, praises, and worshiping voices filled the hall. Abbot Zhàoshì’s eyes widened. For a brief moment, overlapping figures appeared on the guest. A wolf skull and a serpent skull as his left and right heads. Stars like a halo on a figure's back. Three Heads and Fifteen Stars. His future Dharma Form

In that instant, Zhàoshì was pulled back to that fateful night. The mountain peaks stood tall. The temple still nestled on its sacred peaks. Thunder roared overhead as lights like suns rose beside him.his master, the elders, his senior brothers, one hundred and eight Vajra Arhats, and all the sect’s sacred artifacts.

Bright is the moment they are together. Part of Zhaoshi wished that the day never ended. But that glint like death inevitably comes. Everything was cleaved apart in a single swing. The entire mountain peak cleaved. His master. His elders. His senior brothers. All one hundred and eight Vajra Arhat and all artifacts. More than ten thousand years of legacy. All gone in a single swing. Xuan Xuechen walked away with the storm, not sparing a second glance.

Only Zhàoshì remained, saved by the desperate sacrifice of everyone else to save the youngest.

The guest’s second step pulled him back to the present. The old scar on his head throbbed painfully. No one else had seen or heard the visions.

Zhaoshi made a quiet decision.

Xuan Danxing must not pass the trials.