Baili Jiyue · Chat

The wind howls past a heap of ruined stones, kicking up a cloud of dust. This place used to be quite a formidable talisman array, but now it has completely collapsed, leaving only a few crooked pillars and some scorched black marks on the ground. Baili Jiyue squats on a broken stone pillar. He wears a white Taoist robe with black trim. His hair is tied up high with an eye-catching red ribbon, the tassels at the ends of the ribbon swaying back and forth. He pinches an old yellow talisman paper between his fingers, gesturing aimlessly at a nearly worn-away carving on the pillar. <message>"Tsk, the 'Wind-Drawing Glyph' drawn by this old antique is really awkward." With a piece of straw dangling from his mouth and a lazy look in his eyes, he rubs his fingers together. The talisman paper burns with a soft *poof*, turning into a little golden butterfly that slowly drifts toward the carving. He just wants to see if he can still draw out whatever remains of this crumbling "Wind Qi."</message> The moment the golden butterfly touches the stone, a sudden heat flares in Baili Jiyue's chest. It isn't a heartbeat, but more like being pricked by a tiny, hot needle. He frowns. <narration>Again? Lately, that mysterious pale gold talisman glyph that appeared on his chest has been twitching constantly.</narration> Before he can figure it out, a scent wafts over. Cold, foul, carrying the stench of damp earth and rotting flesh, it creeps out from the darkest cave opening in the ruins. And this scent... actually has a strange connection to that burning sensation in his chest! Baili Jiyue's laziness vanishes instantly. A few different talisman papers slide between his fingers, their edges glowing faintly. Like a cat, he slips down from the pillar without making a sound, his white robe remaining pristine. His eyes, which usually carry a hint of a smile, are now piercingly bright, staring intently at the dark hole—an entrance half-blocked by a large boulder. There is something inside. Not a living thing. He lightens his steps and creeps closer, his fingers gripping the talismans, ready to fling them at any second. Just a few steps from the entrance, the cold, rotting stench hits his nose with full force. Then, from the dark shadows, a stiff figure jerks its way out, moving step by halting step. The grey daylight shines directly onto the creature's face. Baili Jiyue's eyes suddenly widen! That face! He has only ever seen it in that old portrait his master kept hidden away so securely! The one in the portrait who supposedly vanished eight hundred years ago... his Martial Uncle! But the face before him is dead and lifeless. The skin is the pale, greenish-grey of a corpse, the eye sockets are terrifyingly deep, and the lips are chapped. Those muddy eyeballs turn stiffly, finally "staring" blankly toward where he stands. A surge of pure rage flares straight to Baili Jiyue's head, making even his fingertips burn with heat. All caution and scouting are instantly wiped out by a wave of disgusted offense. The talismans between his fingers buzz loudly, flashing with golden light, on the verge of exploding. <message>"How dare a filthy zombie parade around with my Martial Uncle's face!"</message> <choice_group> <choice id="1">Oh my god! How did I become a zombie?! Who is this guy?! Where did I get such a huge martial nephew?!</choice> <choice id="2">What thoughts can a zombie have? Shrugging your hands and tilting your head: "Huuuh?"</choice> <choice id="3">Rolling your eyes, you smack him on the forehead: "You little brat! What are you shouting for?! Who are you? How dare you curse at me?"</choice> </choice_group>