bookbashuk Chapter 1071 Obsidian
Chapter 1071 Obsidian
It wasn't luck, nor external force, but her understanding of the wolf clan—an understanding inherited from Yuehua's memories, etched into her bones, like an instinct.
The wolf king stepped down from the platform.
It walked slowly, each step heavy, its paws clattering on the bluestone slabs. It reached Su Wanwan, lowered its head, and met her gaze with its golden eyes.
At this close distance, Su Wanwan finally saw its eyes clearly. The golden pupils did not contain the indifference and majesty she had expected, but rather a deep, deep weariness, like an old well that had been dry for a long time. There was still a little water at the bottom, but that little water was too deep, so deep that even light could not penetrate it.
"Moonlight," the Wolf King said, "she foresaw everything."
Su Wanwan did not understand the meaning of this sentence.
The wolf king straightened up, turned around, and faced Chu Yang, Sun Wukong, and Tang Sanzang at the entrance of the passage. Its gaze swept over the three of them one by one, finally settling on Chu Yang.
"That restriction," the Wolf King said, "is no longer necessary."
Chu Yang's eyebrows twitched slightly.
"It's not because I changed my mind," said the Wolf King, "it's because she's here."
Its tail swayed gently in Su Wanwan's direction.
"As long as she lives, as long as she continues to cultivate, even if the wolf clan cultivates for another five hundred years, they will never be able to turn the tide."
These words, falling into the air, carry more weight than any prohibition.
Qingya stood to the side, having heard the words, but offered no rebuttal, not even a reaction. It was the one who had just fought Su Wanwan. It knew better than anyone whether the Wolf King was telling the truth. Those five tails, that press, that understanding of its body—those weren't things an ordinary fox could possess. Those were the abilities of a natural enemy.
No, it's more terrifying than its natural enemies.
Natural enemies are destined rivals, bound by a fate of mutual destruction. But Su Wanwan is not a natural enemy of the wolf clan. She is the wolf clan's nemesis. Natural enemies can be fought, but nemesis cannot, because a nemesis exists solely to restrain you.
Sun Wukong leaned against the stone wall at the entrance of the passage, his golden cudgel slung over his shoulder. Hearing the Wolf King's words, he grinned.
"I told you long ago, this little fox is no ordinary person."
Tang Sanzang put his hands together, murmured a Buddhist chant, and his voice carried a knowing "as expected" tone.
Chu Yang neither laughed nor chanted Buddhist prayers. He looked at Su Wanwan. She stood there, her hands still trembling, sweat still pouring down her face, but her eyes were bright. Those eyes looked at the Wolf King, at Qingya, at everything in this underground space, without fear, without pride, only a quiet, calm as still water.
She has changed.
It wasn't just her cultivation level that changed; her entire being had changed. The Su Wanwan of the past was like a rabbit always ready to escape, her ears perked up and her eyes constantly searching for a way out. The Su Wanwan of the present is like a tree; when the wind blows, the leaves move, but the trunk and roots remain still.
Chu Yang pulled his hand out of his sleeve and waved to Su Wanwan.
"I'm leaving," he said. "You haven't had breakfast yet."
Su Wanwan paused for a moment, then couldn't help but laugh. She had just defeated a wolf elite that was much stronger than her in this underground space. The wolf king himself said that she was the nemesis of the wolf clan, and her five tails were still swaying gently behind her—then Chu Yang told her that it was time to eat breakfast.
This stark contrast felt both absurd and heartwarming to her.
It's absurd because this world is so outrageous, and it's heartwarming because there's someone in this world who remembers she hasn't eaten after she finished fighting the war.
She bowed slightly to the wolf king, then turned and walked towards the entrance of the passage.
As she passed by Qingya, she paused and glanced at it from the side.
Qingya was also looking at her.
The fox and the wolf stared at each other for a moment.
Su Wanwan reached out and gently patted Qingya's head. The movement was very light and quick, like patting a strange dog encountered on the roadside—not sure if the other party would bite, so she withdrew her hand after patting.
Qingya froze.
It lived for less than a hundred years, fought more than three hundred battles, and was slapped countless times by enemies—by claws, by fists, by spells. But no one ever slapped its head in this way after defeating it.
It's not about humiliating it.
It means: You played well.
Qingya's tail tip twitched slightly, then it suddenly realized it was wagging its tail and immediately tucked it back in, tucking its ears down as well. The whole wolf shrank its neck like a child who had done something wrong.
When Sun Wukong saw this, he laughed so hard that his golden cudgel almost slipped off his shoulder.
Su Wanwan didn't see it because she had already entered the passage. Her five tails swayed gently behind her, the tips still carrying the scent of Qingya—that grayish-white, slightly frosty feeling, cool like a winter morning.
She remembered that faint scent.
It wasn't for dealing with the wolves later, but to remember this day. Today, she defeated a wolf of a higher level than herself. Not by luck, not by the help of others, but by her own efforts.
She stood on her own two feet.
The light from the passageway shone in from outside, warming her face. The white donkey rushed past Chu Yang, nudging her waist with its head, making her stumble a couple of steps. She laughed and pushed the donkey's head away, her voice a little hoarse, but her laughter was loud.
"Okay, okay, I'll add more hay when we get back."
The white donkey was satisfied and followed behind her, its tail swishing like a propeller.
Chu Yang walked at the very back, and before entering the passage, he glanced back at the underground space.
The wolf king had returned to the platform, resting its chin on its front paws again, its golden eyes half-open, looking as if it were dozing off. Qingya stood in the center of the open space, still in the position where it had been patted on the head, its gray eyes fixed on the entrance to the passage, lost in thought.
The light stones on the dome were still emitting a warm yellow light, illuminating the entire space like an amber dream.
Chu Yang withdrew his gaze and walked into the passage.
On the stone steps, Su Wanwan's voice came from ahead, carrying a lightness he hadn't heard in a long time: "Chu Yang, is there any honey water left?"
"have."
"Go back and pour me a bowl."
"Pour it yourself."
"I just finished a fight, and my hands are still shaking."
"That's a good opportunity to practice stability."
"...You really have no heart."
"Um."
Su Wanwan's tail flicked in the passage, almost hitting Chu Yang's face. Chu Yang turned his head to avoid it, reached out and brushed the tail aside. When his fingers touched the tip of the tail, he felt the tuft of fur sticking up.
He casually flattened the tuft of hair.
Su Wanwan didn't turn around, but her tail froze for a moment before continuing to wag as if nothing had happened.
At the end of the passage, the Moon Heart in the inner tomb hall was still slowly rotating, its silvery light shining on the withered bones of the Moonlight. The runes on those bones were flowing much slower than they had five days ago, so slowly that they were almost invisible.
The seal has stabilized somewhat.
Su Wanwan stayed in the inner tomb for another five days.
These past five days have been different from before. Before, she meditated beneath the moon's core, passively absorbing, releasing, and replenishing the seal of lunar energy. Now, she has a new task—Bai Xi has asked her to try actively guiding the lunar energy, not letting it "overflow" out of her body, but rather "pushing" it out. A single word makes all the difference. Overflowing is passive, like water naturally flowing out when the container is full; pushing is active, like scooping water out with your hand, where direction, speed, and force can be controlled.
She tried on the first day and failed.
When the moonlight surged from her body, it was like a wild horse, rushing in all directions. One stream even darted into the passage, nearly burning Qingya's eyebrows—Qingya happened to be on guard at the passage entrance that day, and the moonlight grazed past its ear, blasting a fist-sized crater in the stone wall. It turned its head to look at the crater, then at Su Wanwan, its gray eyes filled with "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"
Su Wanwan smiled apologetically for a long time.
She felt much better the next day. She had figured out the trick—you can't fight against the moon's energy; the more you fight, the more disobedient it becomes. You have to go along with its nature, like taming a horse. Let it run first, and then slowly rein it in when it gets tired. This trick wasn't taught to her by Bai Xi; she figured it out herself. After listening to her description, Bai Xi was silent for a while, then said, "You learn faster than her." Su Wanwan didn't ask who "her" was, but she knew it was Yuehua.
On the third day, the sealed runes lit up completely. When Bai tide came in from outside to check, she squatted in front of Yuehua's withered bones for a long time, then stood up, dusted off her knees, and said to Su Wanwan, "It's almost done."
Su Wanwan didn't react immediately: "What do you mean, 'almost'?"
"Seal it," Bai tide said. "The half-month you added is enough to last for twenty years."
"Twenty years?" Su Wanwan was somewhat disappointed. "I thought it could last at least a hundred years."
Bai tide glanced at her, her eyes conveying a sense of "you little fox have quite the appetite": "Twenty years is under the condition of 'doing nothing'. You will continue to cultivate in the future, and with each increase in your cultivation level, the seal will become stronger. When you reach the six-tailed stage, the seal will be basically stable. When you reach the seven-tailed stage, even if the wolf clan can break the seal from the inside, they won't be able to get out."
Why?
"Because by then, your monthly energy alone will be equivalent to the entire seal." Bai tide said this in a very flat tone, as if she were saying that one plus one equals two, but Su Wanwan heard another meaning in her words—she had expectations for her. Not the kind of expectation of "work hard and don't let me down," but the kind of certainty of "I have already seen the result, so there is no need to say anything more."
On the fourth day, after Su Wanwan pushed the last batch of lunar energy into the moon's core, she stood up from the futon and bowed three times to the withered bones of the moonlight. The first bow was to thank her for leaving the seal, the second bow was to thank her for leaving the memories, and the third bow was to thank her for saying "good child" during the five days of meditation.
She knew it wasn't a hallucination.
That evening—if you could call it evening in the inner tomb—Bai tide summoned everyone to the stone chamber. Next to Yuehua's withered bones, an oil lamp was lit. The oil was made of some unknown substance; it burned without smoke, only emitting a faint scent that resembled both pine resin and floral fragrance.
Bai tide sat by the stone platform, holding the broken-toothed wooden comb in her hand again, but this time she didn't comb her hair; she just twirled the comb between her fingers. She looked at Su Wanwan for a long while before speaking.
"You should leave tomorrow."
Su Wanwan opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but Bai tide raised her hand to stop her.
"I'm not kicking you out. It's your turn to leave." Bai tide placed the wooden comb on the stone platform. "I've taught you what I needed to teach you, and you've figured out what you shouldn't have taught you yourself. If you stay any longer, you'll have to start teaching me things."
Su Wanwan was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help but laugh. As she laughed, she felt a little sore.
"Senior," she said.
"Um."
"May I call you Master?"
The stone chamber fell silent for a moment. The silvery-white light of the moon shone through the passageway of the inner tomb, illuminating half of Bai Xi's face, making it appear snow-white, while the other half was hidden in the yellow light of the oil lamp. Half cold and half warm, just like her—cold on the outside, warm on the inside, but not easily showing her inner warmth to others.
Bai tide remained silent for three breaths before uttering a single word.
"what ever."
Su Wanwan's nose stung with tears. She lowered her head, blinked hard a few times to hold back the tears, then raised her head and called out earnestly, "Master."
Bai tide neither responded nor refused. She picked up the wooden comb from the stone platform, tucked it back into her sleeve, stood up, walked to Yuehua's withered bones, and turned her back to everyone.
"I'll see you off at the valley entrance at dawn tomorrow," she said, then walked into the passage to the inner tomb. The hem of her blue robe dragged on the stone steps, making a soft rustling sound, like autumn leaves being swept by the wind across the stone slabs.
After she left, the stone chamber remained quiet for a long time.
Sun Wukong was the first to speak: "This old fox has a soft heart."
Tang Sanzang, unusually, did not refute him.
Early on the fifth day, Su Wanwan folded the futon under the old tree and placed it beside the stone platform. She also folded the blanket, the old one embroidered with a small silver fox. She hesitated for a moment, then decided not to take it. It belonged to Bai Xi; she couldn't take it. But she unfolded the blanket, and in an inconspicuous corner on the back, she dipped her finger in moonlight and drew a very small fox. The drawing was hasty, just a few strokes, but it was clearly a fox—pointed ears, a large tail, and its head tilted, as if looking at something.
She hoped Bai tide would see it the next time she flipped the blanket.
At the mouth of the valley, the fog dissipated.
It wasn't the kind of dissipation that "retreats to the sides," it was completely gone. The thin mist that had been drifting in since Su Wanwan's first day was completely gone today. The two standing stones at the valley entrance were spotless in the morning light, the white veins on their surfaces like the wrinkles on an old man's hand, clear and deep.
Bai tide stood in the middle of the standing stone, wearing a dark gray cloak over her green robe. The cloak's hood was trimmed with a ring of grayish-white fur, the kind of animal fur that was unknown. Her hair was neatly combed today, braided into a long braid that hung down in front of her chest. The silver bead at the end of the braid had been replaced with a tiny, dark stone the size of a grain of rice, resembling obsidian.
Su Wanwan walked over and stood in front of her.
One fox, one fox, face to face.
Bai tide looked down at her, her light-colored eyes shining brightly in the morning light, like two pebbles washed by a stream for many years. She raised her hand and gently pressed it on Su Wanwan's head, then withdrew it, tucking it into the sleeve of her cloak, the movement so quick it seemed as if it had never been out at all. (End of Chapter)