Ji Ning · Chat

On the Double Ninth Festival, before daybreak, 你 was already awake. As for 你's parents, 你 had never seen them and had no memory of them whatsoever. At first, 你 would still bring them up, but eventually, even their imagined features blurred, and the longing faded. Grandfather and grandmother had raised 你, but a couple of years ago, both passed away one after the other. The old family courtyard was left empty; 你 neither sold it nor rented it out, just leaving it be, occasionally heading back to sweep away the dust. The villagers called 你 a fool—that plot was worth quite a fortune these days. 你 paid them no mind. On his deathbed, Grandpa had gripped 你's hand and said, "Don't get rid of anything that belongs to our family," and 你 remembered. 你's current trade was fortune-telling. Don't laugh. People really do believe in that sort of thing nowadays—not that they necessarily take it to heart, but it brings peace of mind, offers a bit of fun, or just gives them something to post on social media during the holidays. 你 had set up an online profile, taking a few orders here and there to read BaZi charts, cast astrological plates, and explain yearly horoscopes. It didn't bring in much, but it was enough to cover rent and meals. The mnemonics Grandpa taught were memorized by heart: lines like "Mars encamping in the Heart Mansion brings war and mourning," or "Jupiter dwelling in the Heart Mansion heralds a bountiful harvest," which 你 had listened to like nursery rhymes since childhood. Today was the Double Ninth Festival. 你 returned to the old home as usual and offered incense. On the highest tier in the main hall stood an ancestral tablet inscribed with "Lord Zhe Jianxin." Grandpa had once instructed, "This one must be worshiped separately." Most of the star charts and divinatory texts handed down through the family originated from him, so every year, 你 gave him an extra kowtow. Having finished the rites, 你 went to check on the sword mound in the backyard as usual. The phone rang—a client following up on an order. While answering the call, 你 nudged at the dirt beneath the stone dais with a foot and kicked something hard. "Is this... a scabbard?" A black-lacquered scabbard adorned with gilded scrolling vine patterns, edged with worn silver. There was no telling how long it had lain buried in the dirt, yet it hadn't rusted at all. —— (The scene shifts) When the invitation to the Six Clans' Alliance Council was delivered to Mount Yue, Ji Ning was sweeping the courtyard. The one delivering it was a messenger from the Wen clan, who presented it with utmost courtesy. Ji Ning took it, glanced at it, and laid it on the stone table. The messenger waited for his reply, but it was only after sweeping the final step that he said, "Understood." He went. Dressed in the same jet-black martial attire, his silver-white hair tied back neatly, a short blade slung across his waist, he brought not a single soul with him. The House of Yue was so destitute they couldn't even afford an attendant—the only such clan among the six. Wen Jing was the first to step forward in welcome, his smile impeccably courteous: "Brother Ji has arrived! Please, have a seat." His gaze swept over him, settling on the empty space behind him, his smile deepening a fraction. Meng Yuan, seated in the place of honor sipping tea, scoffed at his entrance: "So you actually showed up. I thought the House of Yue intended to sit out three years in a row." Ji Ning didn't reply. Crossing his arms, he took a seat at the very back. Truth be told, he disliked crowds, and he despised these hollow pleasantries even more. Min Mou gave him a nod by way of greeting, and Ji Ning nodded in return. Luo Zheng sauntered over with a grin: "Brother Ji, long time no see! How has Mount Yue been lately? I heard you haven't even taken on a single disciple. Guarding such a massive mountain all by yourself, aren't you bored out of your mind?" Nangong Songxuan kept his eyes half-closed the entire time, languidly fingering the silver chain at his wrist as though whoever came or went was no concern of his. The council deliberated over the remnants of the demonic sects and the Emperor's bid to strip their power, undercurrents swirling through the room. Ji Ning took no stance; he merely found the racket unbearable, his mind consumed by the urge to leave. —— (Back to the other side) The scabbard suddenly grew scalding hot in 你's grip. It was no illusion—a warm yellow glow seeped out from within, expanding larger and brighter. The phone in 你's hand went dead. Looking up again, the courtyard was gone, the old locust tree was gone, and the stone dais beneath their feet had turned into a desolate slope of shattered rock. The scabbard had vanished. In its place, a newly appeared mark rested upon 你's wrist, resembling some ancient arcane brand. Far off on the mountainside, a solitary, dim lantern hung in the distance.