As dawn broke, Bai Yu woke up.
She pushed open the door, and the tree in the yard was still shrouded in a thin morning mist, its leaves damp as if dew had fallen overnight.
She stood on the threshold and glanced in the direction of the room opposite—the door was closed, but light was shining through the window paper, and Shi Yan had already gotten up.
She bent down, scooped up some water from the water vat in the yard, washed her face, then straightened up and glanced down at the small Wind Chime on her wrist.
The bronze-green bell was covered in morning dew and felt cool to the touch. She didn't shake it, but just looked at it for a while before letting her hand fall.
When Shi Yan pushed open the door, Bai Yu was standing in the courtyard with her back to him, looking at the treetop. The morning light filtered through the gaps in the treetop and fell on her shoulders.
"Let's go," she said.
The two walked through the village one after the other, heading towards the center of the village along the bluish-gray gravel path.
The village was still quiet, with only a few early-rising chickens pawing for food by the roadside. Occasionally, one or two households would open their doors, and when they saw Bai Yu walking by, they would only glance at her from afar without making a sound.
The door to the altar chamber in the distance was already open.
The door was open, and the light inside was dimmer than outside. Bai Yu paused at the doorway for a moment, then stepped inside.
Shi Yan stopped outside the door.
Bai Yu turned and glanced at him. "Aren't you coming in?"
I'll wait for you outside.
Bai Yu didn't insist and turned to go inside.
The altar chamber was not large, and it appeared deeper inside than from the outside.
On the stone platform in the center sat an Ancient Wind Chime, the size of a palm, bronze-green in color, with fine patterns covering its surface, a whole size larger than the one on Bai Yu's wrist.
The light from the skylight slanted down into the room, falling directly on the Ancient Wind Chime, giving them a faint, almost invisible sheen.
The priest stood beside the stone platform, holding a wooden staff, watching Bai Yu walk in.
Bai Yu walked to the stone platform, sat down on the futon in the center, untied the small Wind Chime from her wrist, held it in her hands and placed it on the ground in front of her, then looked up at the priest.
"Let's begin."
The priest didn't speak, but simply nodded. He leaned his staff against the stone platform, took two steps forward, and gently tapped the edge of the Ancient Wind Chime with his right index finger.
"Bite--"
A crisp sound rang out, like a pebble being thrown into water. The sound of the bell circled the room before seeping out through the crack in the door.
Shi Yan stood outside the door and heard the bell ring. It was short and soft, as if someone inside had tested the sound.
Then the entire room fell silent.
Bai Yu sat on the futon, her eyes closed. The small Wind Chime she held in front of her lay quietly on the ground, its copper-green surface motionless, but she could feel it—
The moment the priest struck the Ancient Wind Chime, a tendon twitched beneath the skin of her wrist where the Wind Chime had rested.
She took a breath, focused her attention on her body, and followed the throbbing sensation downwards.
Her Soul Power flowed slowly through her meridians, and she controlled it, guiding it little by little to the spot where the Wind Chime had once been placed.
That nerve twitched again.
This time it was more obvious than before.
Bai Yu's breathing steadied. She didn't rush to activate her Soul Power, but simply let it flow naturally, like water flowing along a riverbed, focusing her attention on that spot.
She could feel something slowly heating up there—like a Shitou that had been baking in the sun all day and was still radiating warmth by evening.
The heat slowly spread, rising from the lower abdomen, climbing up the back to between the shoulder blades, and then splitting into two paths, one going to the right arm and the other to the left wrist.
Her fingertips began to go numb.
Shi Yan stood outside the door, unable to see what was happening inside, but he could sense that the air had changed.
The atmosphere around the altar chamber seemed to be suppressed by something invisible, becoming even heavier and quieter than before.
He could hear his own heartbeat and the faint sound of the wind passing through the cracks in the skylight.
He leaned closer to the door, did nothing, just stood there.
The skin on Bai Yu's left wrist began to change.
A pale golden line emerged from the inside of the wrist bone, very thin and shallow, like a newly sprouting root.
It moved upwards along the wrist, not fast, but with each step steady.
Bai Yu didn't open her eyes. She could feel the lines moving, as if something was drawing lines under her skin.
The priest stood by the stone platform, his gaze fixed on her wrist, saying nothing. His eyes were old, but he could see clearly the lines on her wrist.
Bai Yu recalled the lines on Bai Rong's arm—dark, rock-like lines—covering his forearm and wrist, always there since childhood, never changing.
The mark on her wrist was golden, light, like a small snake that hadn't yet grown up, tentatively reaching out.
She didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but she didn't stop.
The Soul Power was still flowing. The golden line passed through the wrist, branching into two thin branches on the back of the hand, one extending towards the Nameless and the other towards the little finger. Then it stopped at the fingertip.
Throughout the entire process, the small Wind Chime on the ground remained silent.
But Bai Yu could sense something moving inside the Wind Chime, like water beneath the ice, seemingly calm on the surface but already flowing underneath.
The priest glanced down and then said, "Stop."
Bai Yu opened her eyes and looked down at her hands.
On the back of his left hand, the golden line had extended from his wrist all the way to his fingertips, like a mountain ridge leaving a mark on his skin.
She tried clenching her fist—the lines didn't disappear, they just distorted slightly with the change in her skin, and then returned to normal.
She looked up at the priest.
The old man didn't speak. He remained silent for a few moments, then reached out and tapped the edge of the Ancient Wind Chime again with his knuckles.
"Bite--"
This time the sound was a little longer than before, circling twice inside the house before seeping out through the crack in the door and drifting into the village.
Shi Yan heard it. The others in the village heard it too.
Someone pushed open the door and came out of the house, standing in the doorway and looking towards the altar chamber.
Bai Yu looked down at her hand; the golden line remained quietly on her skin, neither fading nor shimmering. She clenched her fist, then relaxed it, then clenched it again, before looking up at the priest.
The priest looked at the lines on her wrist, his expression not changing much, but the fingers gripping his staff loosened slightly.
"... Golden thread," he said, "You've taken the first step."
Bai Yu looked down at the golden patterns on her left hand. She couldn't speak, but just stared at them quietly for a long time.
She spread her fingers and turned her wrist; the line extended from her wrist bone to her fingertips, gleaming faintly with gold in the dim light.
She remembered the patterns on the skin of the elders in the village she had seen when she was a child—dark, somber, like the color of the mountain rocks themselves. But hers was different.
She stood up, picked up the small Wind Chime, tied it back on her wrist, and then turned and walked out of the altar chamber.
Shi Yan was still standing outside the door, leaning against the wall. When he saw her come out, his gaze fell on her left wrist and paused for a moment.
"... It's done?"
Bai Yu stood at the doorway, raised her left hand, back of her hand facing up, so that Shi Yan could see the golden pattern. She didn't speak, but she smiled.
Shi Yan looked at her without saying anything, but his posture was more relaxed than before.
In the distant village, people gradually emerged from their houses, standing at doorways, along the roadside, and on the stone steps, gazing towards the altar chamber. It wasn't a crowd gathering, nor was it a commotion; it was simply a quiet confirmation.
Bai Yu stood at the entrance of the altar chamber, the morning light shining from behind her, falling on the faint golden mark on her left hand, as if gilding that newly formed mark with a layer of light.
Under the shade of a tree in the distance, Bai Rong sat leaning against a stone stool, not holding a bowl, looking in the direction of the altar chamber.
He sat for a while, looked down at the dark mountain-like markings on his arm, then stood up, turned and left.