Some living beings descend into the mortal world to become nothing more than a blade of wild grass, content to live ordinary lives through seasons of sun and rain. But others are born so that, one day, Heaven's Way will call their names and thrust them into towering currents from which there is no turning back.
Eastern Lands — Luu Vuc Dai Ha
At the first dawn after the levee burst, the earth still had not dried. The riverside land lay desolate, steeped in the pungent stench of fresh mud. The villagers began rebuilding the fallen beams, patching their thatched roofs, and passing around tales of the previous night's disaster like a living legend of survival.
“That boy plunged into the torrent before any of us had time to react.”
“Yesterday's flood was unnatural… It was almost as if some divine force had made it slow for a single heartbeat, just so it could make room for him.”
The young man paid no attention to the whispers. He sat silently beside the muddy bank, his rough hands oozing blood as he carefully mended a torn section of net swept away by the flood. To him, throwing himself into danger to save someone the night before had been nothing more than instinct. He sought neither fame nor reward.
A figure's shadow stretched across the mudflat. The old man who guarded the ancient shrine at the head of the village had arrived at some point, leaning on a bamboo staff, his movements as silent as a ghost's.
“What is your name?” the old man asked, his voice deep and solemn, like an echo rising from beneath the earth.
The young man stopped mending the net and lifted his bright, unwavering eyes.
“My name is Hoi Minh.”
The old man gave a slight nod, repeating the name twice under his breath, as though weighing every stroke of destiny's script:
“Hoi Minh… Light gathered together. The brightest light fears no floodwater strong enough to crush it. It fears only being obscured by the darkness within its own heart.”
Hoi Minh froze. He could not yet fully understand the old man's words, but deep within his consciousness, he heard a single echo. It was not a sound perceived by the ears, but a summons rising from the depths of fate.
The old man turned away, his footsteps appearing and vanishing in the morning mist.
“Soon, someone will come looking for you. Not to bestow blessings, but to find out who you truly are.”
A cold wind skimmed the murky river. Hoi Minh watched the lonely figure of the old shrine keeper disappear, sensing for the first time that the simple road before him had split into paths filled with storms.
Western Lands — the ancient Linh Son Temple
Three clear morning bells rang out, washing away the clouds and haze of the mortal world across ten thousand miles. The young woman entered the main shrine, her graceful steps like a lotus just beginning to bloom. The elderly abbess watched her for a long time. Her eyes were neither stern nor filled with compassion; they were as deep as the ocean, seeing straight through the heart of the child she had raised.
“Last night, you couldn't settle your mind?”
The young woman lowered her head slightly, a trace of worry passing through her long, smoke-like lashes.
“Master, when the wind changed direction last night, my heart suddenly skipped a beat.”
The old abbess sighed softly, as if she had foreseen this answer eighteen years ago.
“That is because, far away, a living being has just crossed the threshold between life and death.”
The girl stared at her in confusion.
“Master, what does that mean?”
The old abbess rose slowly and pushed open the door of the monastery. Wind from the distant East came rushing in, carrying with it the smell of floodwater and the murderous aura of the mortal world.
“Since childhood, I gave you the dharma name Vien An. Vien An means complete peace.”
She turned and looked straight into the girl's clear eyes, her voice like a thunderous prophecy.
“But one who bears the name ‘Peace’ is not born to flee from storms. She is born to pass through every raging gale of the mortal world without letting her true heart shatter. It is time for you to descend from the mountain.”
Her words fell into the silence like a thousand-pound stone dropped into a still lake, stirring the young woman's heart. Vien An lowered her head and accepted her fate without asking a single question. Yet deep within her soul, a wordless question tore at her: Who… was that person, after all?
In the Beyond-Thought Palace, Nam Tao, High God, quietly turned the pages of the celestial book. The Book of Fate pages belonging to the two people remained pristine and blank, yet the names Hoi Minh and Vien An had appeared on their own in the color of blood.
“They've been called by name.” Nam Tao's lips curled slightly, forming a smile cold enough to pierce the marrow.
He lowered his jade brush. Its sharp tip stopped just beside the two names, but he did not continue writing. He merely left the brush there, like a trap of fate waiting for its prey to walk into it of its own accord.
The winds between the two horizons began to spiral, searching for each other. From that instant onward, two people separated by countless leagues officially entered each other's celestial orbit. They began to walk, never knowing that every step they took in the mortal world was drawing them closer together, toward a great reunion carved into the dawn of time.
Part II
Destiny named across three lives, fate begins, A single ray of light, a fathomless stream. Enter the storm, keep peace, let the heart not break, Await the day we meet… and fill a thousand autumns.