The rain had finally stopped. Dew shimmered on every blade of grass, and the trees of Jade Petal Grove rustled like they were whispering secrets to the morning sun. The sect grounds sparkled—not with divine grandeur, but with the quiet pride of something carefully nurtured.
Jin Nian was in the middle of a rare nap on the roof of the east meditation hall. The tiles were warm, the sky was blue, and for once, no chickens were reciting spiritual sutras.
Peace.
So naturally, chaos arrived.
A thunderclap split the sky.
Jin Nian jolted awake and rolled off the roof with a yelp. He landed in a bush with all the elegance of a dying goose.
"What now?!" he groaned, spitting out leaves.
Zhang Mubo ran into view, his face pale and eyes wide. "Sect Master! There's a girl at the gate calling the rain with her tears!"
Jin Nian blinked. "Is this metaphorical or magical?"
Zhang Mubo held up a soaked scroll. "She's… crying storms. Literal ones."
---
At the sect's main gate stood a girl no older than thirteen. Her robes were plain, too thin for the cold. Her hair clung to her cheeks. Her eyes were dull, but her tears glowed faintly—each one hitting the ground with a soft splash and releasing a burst of mist.
The clouds above rumbled each time she cried.
Wu Ling stood beside her silently, sheltering the girl with her umbrella. She didn't try to stop the tears.
"She hasn't spoken," Wu Ling said as Jin Nian approached. "But she's waiting."
"For what?"
"For you."
Jin Nian approached, slowly. He squatted so their eyes met.
"Hey," he said softly, "I'm Jin Nian. Chief of the Mountain Chicken Sect."
The girl blinked slowly. More tears fell. The rain resumed.
Jin Nian reached out and touched the ground. A golden ripple spread from his hand—the sect's border extending just an inch toward her.
"Step forward," he said. "Just once. And the rain can stop."
She hesitated. Then… she did.
As her foot crossed into the sect's domain, the storm above cracked—and cleared.
---
They named her Lan Xue. Snow Orchid.
She said nothing for two days.
But strange things happened around her. Water would condense in the air when she was startled. Frost bloomed on stone when she was sad. When she smiled in her sleep, dew sparkled like stars.
Zhang Mubo wanted to test her affinity with formation stones.
Bai Duyi brought her soup every morning.
Wu Ling stayed close but never pried.
Jin Nian, meanwhile, sat by her side every afternoon with a different ridiculous story about his "glorious early days" fighting demon chickens and turning mud into wine.
Sometimes, Lan Xue's shoulders shook. But she still wouldn't speak.
---
That night, Jin Nian visited the slab.
And the name was already there.
Guardian: Fei Lian – The Storm that Wept
Beneath it: Linked to disciple Lan Xue.
---
He called a meeting.
"She's already bonded," he said. "Without speaking. That's rare."
"She's suppressing something," Wu Ling added. "The Guardian is trying to surface."
"So what do we do?" Bai Duyi asked.
"We wait," Jin Nian replied. "And prepare."
---
That night, Lan Xue screamed in her sleep.
Rain lashed the roofs. Thunder shook the trees. Fog poured into the disciples' halls.
Jin Nian arrived first, wrapping his arms around her small frame.
"I've got you," he whispered. "Let it come."
She thrashed, and a voice echoed from her lips—not her own.
"LET ME FALL. LET ME DROWN. THE SKY IS A LIE."
The Guardian had awakened.
---
They moved her to the Soul Sanctuary.
A circle was drawn. Candles lit. Jin Nian, Wu Ling, and Bai Duyi formed a triangle around her.
Zhang Mubo chanted the stabilizing mantra, sweat pouring down his brow.
Lan Xue's eyes opened. They were pure silver.
Jin Nian stepped into the circle.
"I am the Sect Master," he said calmly. "This is my disciple. If you will not speak gently, then fall silent."
The air stopped moving.
Fei Lian's voice echoed again, but softer now.
"I was the wind. I warned them. They did not listen."
A flash of memory struck them all.
A village by the sea. The tides rising. A girl on the rocks, screaming as people ignored her. Then the storm came. All washed away.
Fei Lian had tried to save them. But no one listened.
And when he died… no one remembered.
---
Lan Xue sobbed in her sleep.
"I tried," she whispered. "I told them. I told Papa. Mama. But they—"
Jin Nian held her hand. "You were just a child. It wasn't your fault."
"But I lived," she wept. "I lived."
"So did your warning," he said gently. "It became you. And now you can warn us all."
A pulse of light swept through the room.
Fei Lian's voice faded: "Let her speak, then. I have no more storms left."
And he was gone.
---
The next morning, Lan Xue sat beside the pond.
She looked up at Jin Nian.
"Thank you," she said. Just that. Nothing more.
And for the first time in weeks, it rained—just a little.
But this time, it was gentle. Like a blessing.
---
Reader Question:
What would your storm say, if it could speak? What memory would it ask you to release?