The morning fog in the sect was unusually thick.
Jin Nian stood at the edge of his small garden, broom in hand, staring at the mist that curled like silent spirits across the ground. Every time he tried to sweep, the wind pushed the leaves back into place, as if mocking him.
He sighed. "I'm the sect master. I should be studying forbidden techniques or unlocking ancient seals, not fighting with rebellious foliage."
The mist didn't respond.
He'd been uneasy since yesterday. Not because of the glowing stone slab or the talking chicken or the phrase "We guard, until remembered" that still echoed in his head—but because of what he'd seen in the sky.
He wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality, but the shimmer in the clouds had felt… alive.
"Maybe I need to sleep on actual bedding instead of sacks of rice," he muttered.
Just then, footsteps crunched across the grass. Wu Ling approached, arms crossed.
"Sect Master," she said, voice low. "The bamboo grove is acting strange."
He raised an eyebrow. "Strange how? Is it glowing again? Growing in formations that spell out mysterious prophecies?"
She didn't laugh.
"It's… whispering."
He froze. "Come again?"
"I said the bamboo grove is whispering."
---
They walked together into the grove.
It had always been peaceful—a little dense, a little crooked, and suspiciously home to at least three invisible squirrels. But today, the air felt thick. Hushed. Like it was waiting.
Jin Nian closed his eyes. He listened.
The wind blew softly, brushing the bamboo stems together in patterns. And then he heard it—so faint it could've been a trick of the mind.
A voice.
No, not one. Several. Whispering in languages he didn't understand. Murmurs without mouths. Thoughts that had never been his.
He stepped back.
Wu Ling had drawn her sword but wasn't moving.
"They're not hostile," she said. "They're… sad."
He looked at her. Her eyes were glassy, as if lost in something far away.
Then she blinked, the spell broken, and looked down.
"There's something buried here," she said quietly.
---
They spent the afternoon digging.
At first, all they found was dirt, roots, and disappointment. But then, a few feet down, they hit something hard.
It was a circular stone, engraved with a symbol neither of them recognized. A ring within a ring, cracked down the center.
Jin Nian reached for it, but Wu Ling grabbed his hand.
"Let me," she said. "I… I feel like I should."
He didn't argue.
She touched the stone. The air changed.
A faint pulse rippled outward—through the trees, the soil, the sky.
Far above, in the clouds, a shimmer of light blinked and vanished.
Back in the sect, the stone slab glowed again, unreadable characters flowing across its surface like ink in water.
---
That night, Jin Nian sat alone by the fire pit.
He didn't tell the disciples, but the System had spoken to him after the pulse.
"Guardian signal detected," it had said.
Not activated. Not bonded. Just… detected.
He didn't know what that meant yet.
But he remembered the feeling from the bamboo grove. That ache. That echo of sadness.
And for the first time, he wondered: Were there spirits here that hadn't moved on?
He looked up at the stars. The sky looked normal now.
But deep down, something told him this was just the beginning.
---
Meanwhile, Wu Ling sat on her peak, staring at her sword.
A name had surfaced in her mind when she touched the stone.
A name she didn't recognize. But it made her heart ache.
Jiang Ru.
She whispered it once.
The wind answered with silence.
---
End of Chapter
Author's Note Question:
Do you think Wu Ling is connected to one of the Guardians? And if so… what unfinished wish might they carry?
---