The trail stretched across the mountainside, nestled between ancient pine groves whose thousand-year-old trunks towered into the clouds. After a night when fog had shrouded the way until it vanished from sight, the red earth still clung to a thick, lingering dampness, while the cool air brushed softly against their skin. Dew gathered on the leaves and occasionally fell onto the stone slabs below, making crisp, tinkling sounds like the distant beat of war drums striking the solemn silence, weaving an atmosphere of profound mystery.
Hội Minh strode proudly ahead, his hand clenched around the bamboo staff of fate. Viên An followed half a step behind him in silence, the hem of her pure white robes gliding lightly over the soft grass. The two had traveled together for a long stretch, and through three lives of suffering, most of their time had dissolved into eternal silence—a silence that held no distance between them, but was filled with a profound spiritual understanding. Only the roar of the wind tearing past the cliffs and the sound of their footsteps touching the damp earth mingled into creation's lonely symphony.
After walking for a long while, Viên An gently raised her elegant face. Her clear voice rang out like jade chimes, breaking the stillness:
“Brother Hội Minh, where do you intend to go on this journey?”
Hội Minh answered slowly, his deep eyes fixed on the dense fog ahead:
“I don't know what land I'll ultimately reach. It's just that... deep in my veins, this road seems to be calling me, forcing me onward.”
Viên An pressed her lips together, a cool smile flickering at the corners of her eyes. His answer was vague and gave no sense of direction, yet it left her with no need to press him further. Her spiritual awareness was trembling with the same answering pulses. Fate had locked them into the same celestial orbit.
A Cosmic Omen
The trail wound around the treacherous cliffside, sometimes appearing beneath dense forest canopies that hid the sunlight, sometimes opening suddenly onto a vast expanse of sky. From the heights, the sacred mountain ranges in the far distance rose layer upon layer like stone dragons lying prostrate, hazy and caught between reality and illusion beneath the thin mist, creating a magnificent scene so breathtaking it was almost terrifying.
Suddenly, a terrible gale plunged down from the highest heavens. The hems of their robes whipped violently in the wind, and the old pines shook with a fierce rustling. The spirit birds nesting among the branches were seized by panic. They beat their wings and shot into the sky all at once, crying out in alarm as they scattered into enormous circles, like an omen that an overwhelming killing aura was about to descend.
Viên An abruptly stopped, her face changing as she looked up at the sky:
“Brother Hội Minh, do you sense anything?”
Hội Minh stopped as well, tightening his grip on the bamboo staff. At that exact moment, against the dim, pale-blue sky, a razor-sharp streak of blood-red light suddenly split the veil of smoky clouds like a blade. It was no meteor of the mortal world. In an instant briefer than a single breath, the blood-colored radiance abruptly divided into nine strange bolts of lightning—the symbol of the Ninefold Trial—then cruelly fused back into one blazing point of light before plunging straight into the peak ahead and vanishing. All things immediately returned to a silence that was almost frightening, but the air now carried the faint scent of the Celestial Law's killing intent.
At the same time, the ancient bamboo staff in Hội Minh's hand suddenly became as heavy as a thousand armies, sending a searing force through his palm like burning fire. Hội Minh gazed gravely at the patch of sky that had just sealed itself shut, the veins on his forehead twitching violently. He understood clearly: this cosmic omen was meant for the two of them. He did not answer Viên An's question. He merely tightened his grip on the bamboo staff and said in a low, decisive voice:
“Let's go.”
Strange Beasts of the Mountain Forest
The rugged path led them down to a dry stream hidden behind the cliffs. The flowing water wound between moss-covered stone slabs, making clear, refreshing sounds that seemed to wash away the dust of the mortal world for thousands of miles. Hội Minh knelt on one knee beside the water and bent down to scoop up a handful of pure water, washing the grit from his bare hands. Viên An stood half a step behind him in silence, watching the dark current circle through the cracks between the stones as her true heart briefly found its way back to tranquil peace.
Suddenly, a terrifying roar tore through the wilderness from the bushes. It did not shake the sky, but its deep, oppressive sound was filled with killing intent and the utmost threat.
Viên An spun around, instantly alert. Amid the maze of ancient trees, a massive shadow slowly drew near. It was a monstrous mountain leopard. Its body was gaunt enough to show the bones, yet layer upon layer of muscle stretched taut like steel-wrapped bowstrings, ready to tear its prey apart. Its gray-black fur stood on end like sharp spines, and most striking of all were its dark-red, fiery eyes—the unnatural glow of a mortal beast stirred by the surging killing aura from the nine blood-colored rays moments earlier.
The strange beast locked its bloodthirsty gaze onto the two living beings. The air around the stream suddenly grew thick and heavy, suffocating them. Viên An instinctively retreated a step in self-defense. In that instant, Hội Minh had already risen. He stepped forward and shielded her with his body. It was only a single step, yet he stood as firmly and resolutely as a great mountain.
The strange leopard threw back its head and roared before launching straight at them with the speed of thunder. Its killing aura arrived so quickly that even the raging wind in the forest seemed to halt, while the workings of the cosmos appeared to freeze for the span of a breath. Hội Minh tilted his body and dodged by a hair, his footwork fluid as flowing water. Using the bamboo staff in place of an ancient sword, he unleashed a move from the Grand River Sword Style, which he had painstakingly honed through eighteen years of solitude. An invisible force as mighty as a thousand armies, surging like waves, struck the beast directly in the side and sent its massive body sprawling onto the damp, rotting earth.
The mountain leopard whimpered in pain, struggled to its feet, then plunged headfirst into the deepest darkness of the pine forest. In that moment, Viên An's chest tightened. She had never seen anyone face a savage beast of the primordial wilderness with such utter calm. Hội Minh's eyes remained perfectly steady, without the slightest ripple. Yet deep within his pupils, a cold, distant spiritual light flashed—as though he had not merely subdued a beast, but was proudly declaring war against the destiny that controlled him.
She stared fixedly at his proud back, her lips moving though bitterness clogged her throat. A warm spiritual current surged within her, making her realize that although she had descended the mountain alone, from this instant onward, she was no longer alone amid the storms of the mortal world. The steadfast fire in Hội Minh's eyes had sunk into her spiritual awareness, becoming an eternal mark that could never fade.
Hội Minh drew back the bamboo staff and lightly brushed the worldly dust from the fold of his robe. His voice was faint as mist and smoke:
“Let's go.”
The Sunset Fork
They continued along the ancient stream as the sun began to sink toward the distant West. Blood-red sunset pierced the pine branches and cast shimmering patches of scarlet light across the water, weaving an otherworldly, desolate scene.
Viên An gradually slowed her steps, her mind filled with thought. She looked at his back and spoke softly:
“Brother Hội Minh, you're nothing like an ordinary mortal.”
Hội Minh watched the stream churn through the rocky crevices. After a long silence, he replied lightly:
“The road lies beneath our feet. In the end, we mortals are only hurried travelers passing through the mortal world.”
When the sun shattered along the edge of the mountains, the pine forest ahead suddenly thinned, opening onto a fateful fork that divided the road in two. One branch wound down into a deep valley, hidden in the mists of the mortal world and leading toward a small town. The other followed the sheer rock face straight up toward the cloud-covered summit, returning to the ancient Linh Sơn temple—two roads, two completely different destinies.
Hội Minh stopped, and Viên An halted as well. The two stood rooted before the fork of life and death, their deep gazes tinged with hesitation. The late-afternoon gale swept across the mountainside, carrying the bone-chilling cold of stone and the wild scent of grass, stirring a sorrowful sense of parting.
Viên An looked at the two paths, her voice as soft as the breath of night fog:
“Could it be that... the fated bond of this life will force us to part and take two different roads?”
Hội Minh raised his eyes toward the distant sacred mountains slowly sinking into thick darkness. He spoke slowly, his deep, resonant voice echoing off the cliffs:
“Some roads of fate... were never meant for people to walk together from the very beginning.”
The mountain wind roared wildly once more. Dry pine needles trembled in the fading dusk. The road ahead silently stretched toward two separate directions, like creation's wordless farewell between life and death.
A Firelit Night and a Token of Fate
Night officially descended upon the mortal world, bringing a bone-deep cold that closed around the wilderness. Hội Minh silently gathered dry branches beside the stream and used tinder to build a small fire. Its flickering glow swayed, sheltering the two living beings in the silent depths of the forest. He opened his pack and handed her a piece of dry rations:
“It's been a long day on the road. Have some rations to keep your strength up.”
Viên An accepted the cake and nodded lightly in thanks. They sat leaning against two stone slabs beside the ancient stream and ate in silence beneath the witness of the flickering firelight. Neither spoke another word of the mortal tongue. Only the sound of running water mingled with the dry wood popping in the flames.
After a while, Hội Minh lifted his head toward the dense night sky:
“The nine blood-colored rays this afternoon... I wonder what omen they were from the Heavenly Way.”
Viên An also raised her elegant face to the heavens, her voice lowering:
“Perhaps... they herald the beginning of a journey filled with blood and tears.”
The instant her words ended, a guardian star high above suddenly flashed violently, then tilted as though it were about to fall. Its radiance stretched into a razor-edged streak of white light, piercing the darkness like a sword of annihilation and cleaving the field of stars—a merciless prophecy of a great separation. The two fell silent together, the flickering fire reflecting their lonely figures against the cliff face.
By the Hour of the Dog, the cold had grown even more bone-deep. Hội Minh turned slightly toward Viên An and said:
“It’s late. Viên An, little sister, lean against that ancient tree and rest to regain your strength. I’ll keep watch for strange beasts by the stream.”
As he spoke, he reached inside his robe and took out a piece of pure white jade marrow. Its surface had been smoothed by years of wandering, and it was warm to the touch. Strangely, deep within the white jade, faint natural veins had gathered into exactly nine tiny points, glittering like nine stars and shining brilliantly in the firelight.
“I’ve carried this with me since childhood.” Hội Minh placed the jade marrow in Viên An's soft palm. “The ancients said jade bone was something a gentleman should keep at his side. Keep it as a protective talisman.”
Viên An was stunned. Her palm felt the warmth and gentle spiritual force flowing from the jade:
“Your treasured keepsake... how can you give it to me so easily?”
Hội Minh smiled faintly, his deep eyes filled with understanding:
“Wherever jade may be, it is still jade. All that matters is that the person who keeps it never forgets their own true heart.”
Viên An gazed at the jade marrow, waves of feeling and attachment surging through her. She carefully untied the blue handkerchief around her wrist. It was simple and plain, but nine tiny stars had been exquisitely embroidered in silver thread at one corner—an exact match for the nine veined points in his jade. She respectfully offered the blue handkerchief to Hội Minh, her voice choked with emotion:
“I’m giving you this in return. So you’ll always remember that... even if the blood moon obscures the sky, there will always be a guardian star high above, silently watching over you.”
Hội Minh accepted the rough blue silk in astonishment. He carefully folded it and tucked it into the place closest to his heart inside his robe, treasuring it like a divine weapon or priceless relic.
Sunset passed, dawn approached, and the moment of separation drew near. Hội Minh rose abruptly, gripping the bamboo staff:
“I have to go down to the town beneath the mountain and enter the myriad pursuits of the mortal world.”
Viên An also stood, her white robes flying in the mountain wind:
“I have to return to the ancient Linh Sơn temple.”
Two people, two separate paths amid the rustling bamboo forest. They spoke no words of farewell. They merely nodded once to each other, letting the contrary wind carry away the tears that had not yet fallen. Above them, their small star suddenly flashed with one eternal beat, bearing witness to the silent promise between two sinful souls.
The Celestial Trial
In the ancient, eternally silent Beyond-Thought Palace of the celestial court, silver clouds rolled slowly past the ancient stone terrace of the Silent Hall.
Nam Tao stood motionless beside a jade railing, his immaculate white robes billowing in the wind. In his hand was the celestial record of fate, yellowed by the passage of eternal time. Its pages opened, releasing a faint blood-colored glow that revealed two names: Hội Minh—Viên An. He gazed down at the fork in the distant mortal world, where two figures were walking in completely opposite directions.
“The eighteen-year celestial design is ready to activate.” Nam Tao's lips curled faintly, his cold voice echoing through the void.
The Keeper of Fated Bonds stepped up behind him and sighed as he looked at the Book of Fate:
“Eighteen years in the mortal world... isn't that too cruel for them?”
Nam Tao did not turn around. His eyes, which commanded life and death, remained fixed on the two points of spiritual light in the lower realm as he slowly snapped the celestial book shut:
“Eighteen years in the mortal world are enough for an ordinary soul to forget a vow carved into the universe. And they are just enough... for me to determine whether their love and attachment can truly overcome the merciless Celestial Law. Their trial begins with the blood and tears of today.”
The moment the Book of Fate closed with a crisp snap, a drop of pitch-black ink slid from the tip of Nam Tao's jade brush and silently fell straight into the mortal world, transforming into a thunderous omen that exploded across the human night. The wheel of destiny belonging to Hội Minh and Viên An officially began to turn, setting in motion a turbulent epic of storms and upheaval.
Section VIII
At the mountain ridge where contrary winds rage, blood-red light descends, The jade marrow is given, the blue handkerchief passed on. Nine faint veined points, the stars blaze bright, Two paths divide, mingled with sorrowful tears.
The celestial book closes, ordaining three lives, Eighteen long years, one lingering figure. Awaiting the day they meet again, heaven and earth turn, Their fated bond and karma not yet spent... eternal through countless ages.