After a pause, the fallen god raised His hand once more, tracing a faint line through the air before Lin Jin, His voice carrying a hint of sighing reflection:
“When the fleeting dream ends and rain begins to fall—
Only then does one know that spring is truly spring.”
For reasons unknown, hearing His voice made Lin Jin suddenly very sleepy.
His eyelids grew heavy, but he forced himself to stay awake and muttered, “I don’t understand.”
Whether it was the figure before him or his own vision that blurred, Lin Jin couldn’t tell. In the moment before he lost consciousness, he only heard that gentle voice drifting down from the heavens, distant and serene:
“You will, in time.”
“…?”
If the drowsiness hadn’t been so overwhelming, Lin Jin would have committed an act of great disrespect and retorted to this immortal senior:
Listening to you speak is like listening to nothing at all.
That was the last thought he had before blacking out. After that, he seemed to fall into a long, gentle dream—until chaotic noises and a sharp burning pain in his forearm woke him.
Lin Jin jolted upright in bed, gasping for air. Cold sweat instantly soaked his body.
Outside the wooden cabin, voices clamored noisily, but Lin Jin had no time to care. His forearm hurt terribly. He pulled back his sleeve and saw that at some point, a line of runes glowing with faint white spiritual light had been branded onto the inside of his arm.
Along with the pulsing glow came waves of pain like knife cuts. Lin Jin trembled from the pain but didn’t dare make a sound that might draw attention from outside. Fortunately, the pain didn’t last long. After a few breaths, the glowing runes slowly seeped into his skin and vanished along with the pain, as though they had never existed.
What was that?
Lin Jin frowned slightly and shook his arm, but the runes truly seemed to have disappeared without a trace.
Unable to figure anything out, he let his sleeve fall and looked around the room.
That immortal had been surprisingly considerate—He’d even returned him to his room. The rune on his arm must have been left by Him as well, though what it did was anyone’s guess.
In any case, a fallen god wouldn’t bother harming a mere mortal like him. And even if He wanted Lin Jin dead, there would be nothing Lin Jin could do about it. Better not to overthink it.
The commotion outside continued, though Lin Jin had no idea what all the excitement was about.
He glanced toward the window, about to go take a look, when his peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of a glowing white orb by his pillow.
“…?!”
Startled, Lin Jin quickly realized it was the thing the fallen god had stuffed into his arms.
He carefully moved closer to inspect it.
The luminous spiritual energy wrapped it so tightly that he couldn’t see what was inside. He could only tentatively poke it with a finger.
To his shock, the seemingly solid barrier dispersed at his touch—bursting into a flare of green flames that set the hem of his robe on fire.
“Ahh!”
Lin Jin yelped. After everything he’d seen that night, he was thoroughly traumatized by the color green. He jumped off the bed in a panic, frantically patting out the flames.
Thankfully, this fire lacked the terrifying pressure and heat from before. It was no different from an ordinary flame and went out after a few slaps.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Lin Jin brushed off his robe—now missing a small burned patch—and looked down again at the object.
The white spiritual energy had completely dissipated, and lying by his pillow was…
A lump of black charcoal?
He poked it with a finger and immediately pulled his hand back.
Hot.
The little black thing was curled into a ball by his pillow, only slightly bigger than his palm. It was pitch black, like charcoal, and continuously smoking.
At first, Lin Jin thought the immortal had given him some kind of magical artifact or forging material. But after watching for a moment, he noticed it was gently rising and falling—as if breathing.
Was it… alive?
Thinking this, Lin Jin cautiously nudged it again.
Sure enough, the black, charred layer was just grime. Beneath it was a soft, fluffy texture, like animal fur.
What was this—some kind of beginner’s bonus spirit beast? A starting fuzzball?
Lin Jin withdrew his hand, stared at the soot covering his palm, and after a moment of silence, dragged a wooden basin over from beside the bed. He planned to go find some hot water—wash himself, and maybe wash this little thing too.
Carrying the basin, he opened the door—and nearly ran straight into someone.
Shen Bing was standing outside, his hand raised as if about to knock. Seeing Lin Jin step out, he awkwardly rubbed his hands and smiled.
“Young Master Lin, it’s pretty chaotic outside tonight. I heard some noise from your room earlier and came to check. Are you all right?”
Lin Jin glanced down at the burned edge of his robe and thought, Yeah, the noise was definitely real.
He subtly shifted the damaged fabric out of sight and peeked outside.
He’d heard the commotion earlier, and now he could see why. Spiritual light flared repeatedly in the distance, and from time to time, disciples of Misty Rain Mountain could be seen flying past on their swords. Looking carefully, their destination was the same desolate hillside Lin Jin had just been at. Meanwhile, the independent cultivators staying nearby for the upcoming trial were all gathered in small groups, eagerly watching the spectacle.
“…What happened out there?” Lin Jin asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Shen Bing glanced around and instinctively lowered his voice. “Oh, something happened tonight on the荒坡 south of Misty Rain Mountain. I don’t know the details—only that it seems there was… demonic energy at work.”
At the words “demonic energy,” Lin Jin immediately recalled the massive beast-shaped shadow, its suffocating presence, its heavy breathing, and the blue-green flames.
His fingers curled unconsciously, gripping the rough rim of the basin.
He drew his hands behind his back and quietly closed the door.
The wooden door creaked softly.
Lin Jin smiled at Shen Bing. “Demons, huh? That’s terrifying. I hope everyone’s all right…”
The noise outside was muffled by the thick wooden door.
Inside the room, on the bed, the black ball curled up tightly suddenly twitched. Soot-like flakes fell from the tips of its fur.
The fuzzball stretched slightly and slowly opened its eyes—
Flames flickered, and blue-green light gleamed faintly in its pupils.
The temperature in the room rose a little, then, after a few breaths, settled back into calm.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152