The darkness was not nothingness, but a thick, scalding abyss filled with shattered light and sharp pain. Shira felt herself sinking into it, her bones groaning, her consciousness freezing.
The chaotic scene flashed: burning fist shadows, the horrified faces of Iwa ninjas, the blood-stained figures of their comrades, the solemn gaze of Jonin Baki, and finally, utter darkness.
After an unknown amount of time, the scorching heat and deep cold began to recede, replaced by a comfortable feeling of being immersed in warmth. The pain became distant and blurred.
The first thing to recover was the sense of smell—there was no bloody, burnt smell, no heavy Yakumi, only a cool, strangely sweet scent, like the scent of desert night flowers mixed with clean moisture and ancient rocks.
Next comes the sense of touch. Instead of rough sand, there is a soft, cool, smooth mat with a silky texture and plant fiber patterns.
The covering felt weightless, yet warm and comfortable.
His hearing slowly returned. There was no howling wind, no groans or cries of pain, no metallic scraping. Only a deep silence, his own gradually clear heartbeat and breathing, and a faint, rhythmic pulse from the far distance, seemingly coming from the depths of the earth, like the slow beating of the earth's sleeping heart.
Where am I?
How are our comrades? Captain Reppu, Asuka, Sasori Sada, Jonin Baki, everyone...
The thought, like a spark ignited in the darkness, suddenly seared her consciousness. Shira's eyelashes trembled as she struggled against her heavy eyelids.
"Captain, Asuka, everyone..."
His chapped lips moved, emitting faint, hoarse syllables.
"Woke up?"
A voice rang out.
The sound was like a gentle breeze that swept across the lake of the heart, clear and calm, devoid of emotion, yet containing a kind of ancient rhythm that was difficult to describe.
Shira shuddered, and the power she had been holding back finally burst through her eyelids.
The light was not harsh; it was soft, as if filtered, warm white skylight falling from above.
He found himself lying in a strange "room," which was more like the interior of a huge natural cave, but the walls and ceiling were covered with a translucent, jade-like substance that shimmered with a faint bluish-gold luster.
The cave was spacious and simple. The "bed" he was on was a flat jade mat woven from dark green broad-leaved plants. Not far away, there was only a low table formed of natural jade, with simple and rustic pottery pots and cups on it. A cool and sweet fragrance filled the air.
The sound was coming from right next to the low table.
A figure sat with their back to him on a low jade stool. Their pale blue flowing cloud-sleeved dress seemed to glow in the soft light, and their bare feet were as white as snow, spotless.
Her waist-length hair had a faint Gold Dust at the ends, loosely tied up with a simple blue hairpin. Just her seated back view gave people the illusion of being completely at ease, as if she had been sitting there for thousands of years, transcendent, tranquil, and unfathomable.
Shira's pupils contracted slightly. The last fragments of her memory before losing consciousness pieced together—the retreat of Iwagakure, her own exhaustion causing her to collapse...
What happened next? Who was it? Where are we? Where are our companions?
A strong sense of vigilance and unease instantly overwhelmed the initial confusion of waking up.
Shira instinctively tried to prop herself up, her right hand habitually pressing to her side, attempting to use the momentum to sit up and find a weapon or assume a defensive stance.
However, the expected tearing pain in my right arm did not occur. Instead, I experienced a slightly sore but smooth feeling with free movement.
What?
Shira froze abruptly. Incredulously, he slowly raised his right arm to his eyes.
In my memory, this arm should have been shattered by the recoil from the final blow, its bones broken and its meridians severed, followed by endless pain and numbness.
But now, the horrifying bruises and swelling on his arm have completely subsided, and his skin has returned to a healthy color, though it is still slightly pale.
His fingers could bend and straighten freely, and his wrist could rotate without any resistance. He tried to clench his fist gently; although his strength had not fully recovered, the feeling of his muscles and bones connecting and his blood flowing smoothly was incredibly clear!
How is that possible?
Shira suddenly looked at the other wounds on her body. The old wound on her chest that had been torn open was now only a faint pink new flesh, and even the scar was almost invisible.
The abrasions and cuts all over his body had vanished without a trace. If it weren't for his weakened internal energy and nearly depleted Chakra, he would have almost thought that the previous fierce battle and his almost crippled arm were just a nightmare.
She cured him? In such a short time? This is beyond the realm of ordinary Medical Ninjutsu!
Shira's heart raced, her gaze fixed once more on the blue figure who still had his back to her. A mixture of wariness and barely suppressed shock and a hint of awe mingled within her.
Seemingly sensing his turbulent emotions and scrutinizing gaze, the woman finally turned around slowly.
A light veil covered her face, revealing only her clear, light amber eyes. At this moment, those eyes calmly gazed at Shira, their gaze sweeping over his shocked examination of his arm, a barely perceptible hint of understanding flashing in their eyes.
"Your injuries are healed," the woman said, her voice as gentle as a breeze across a still lake. "As for your companions, they should have safely returned to Sunagakure by now."
"Returned safely? "Shira was taken aback, then felt a little relieved, but her vigilance remained.
He tried to recall what happened after he lost consciousness, but all he could remember was a blank. Had this person saved him? Or was he a companion?
Who are you?
Shira finally found her voice, hoarsely asking, her body tense and alert, even though she knew such vigilance might be meaningless to the other person, "Where is this place? May I ask why you brought me here?"
The woman did not answer immediately. She stretched out her slender fingers, picked up the pottery pot, and poured a clear, faintly bluish liquid into one of the earthenware cups.
There was no heat, but a sweet aroma, even richer than the air itself, filled the air.
"This is the Cavern of Echoes, a vital point nestled within the Heart of the Bedrock."
The woman gently pushed the filled ceramic cup toward Shira, her movements fluid and graceful, imbued with an ancient charm. "My name is Qinglin."
Qinglin. The name is just like the person: clear and pure. Lin Yu (霖雨) carries the meaning of natural nourishment, yet it is also incredibly distant.
As for why I brought you here...
Qinglin's gaze fell on Shira again, this time with a hint of scrutiny. "At the edge of the Heart of the Bedrock, with your mortal body, you forcefully drew upon violent energy to unleash that crude fist technique that shook the very earth. Although its power was violent and chaotic, and the air currents it stirred were disorderly, but..."
She paused slightly, her amber eyes seeming to see something deeper through Shira's body.
"But the rudimentary breathing technique you use, your affinity for and ability to guide qi, and your clumsy attempts to control the direction of airflow in dire situations are quite remarkable among mortals in this world."
"Moreover, you carry a faint yet extremely pure Sand's Attachment, resonating with this land."
Breathing techniques? Does this refer to his own Seven Heavens Breathing Method? The Sand's Attachment —could it be the dumbbell Gaara gave himself?
Shira's mind raced; the other woman's few words had revealed so many of his secrets! Just who was this woman?
"You're not a ninja?" Shira couldn't help but ask. The other person's appearance, abilities, and speech were all very different from ordinary ninjas.
"Ninjas?" Qinglin shook his head slightly, his tone calm yet carrying an indifference that seemed to survey the passing years. "Relying on Chakra, studying transformation techniques, and engaging in combat and slaughter are merely minor matters. My existence has nothing to do with the Ninshu of this world."
She picked up the glass of green liquor in front of her, but did not drink it; she simply watched the faint light shimmering within.
"I observe the weather, guard the earth's veins, and regulate the flow of feng shui and energy in this area. You can understand me as a relatively ancient consciousness in this desert, traveling through this physical form. In your almost lost ancient language, you might call me an earth spirit, or an immortal."
Not a buddy, but an immortal?
Shira's heart trembled violently. This word had only been seen in the most absurd ancient legends and scroll fragments, and was regarded as a mythical fabrication.
"An immortal...?" Shira's voice was somewhat hoarse.
"It's just a title." Qinglin didn't seem to care about the title. Her gaze refocused on Shira's face, and a very faint ripple of interest finally appeared in her calm eyes.
"What interests me is you. A mere mortal youth who has barely reached the threshold of Qi Refining, possessing only rudimentary body-refining techniques, yet capable of unleashing a power that can shake the Heart of the Bedrock in dire circumstances."
"Although the method was foolish and the cost was heavy, what intrigues me even more is that the first thing you did upon waking was to inquire about your companions' safety."
She tilted her head slightly, observing the lingering wariness and shock in Shira's eyes, and said softly:
"I've managed to save your arm for now. But the energy you've generated using that breathing technique has gone out of control, mixing with another external, violent life force within your body, creating a hidden danger. If left untreated, within a month your internal organs will wither away, your meridians will shatter, and you'll die."
Her words were calm, yet each one struck Shira's heart like a hammer blow.
"Now, tell me, mortal boy." Qinglin's voice remained clear and ethereal, yet it carried an undeniable air of authority.
"Do you want to return to your village with this body, temporarily intact but riddled with holes and nearing its end, to await your predetermined fate? Or...?"
She put down the ceramic cup and stood up. Her pale blue skirt fluttered without wind, and it seemed as if an invisible, pure, and vast current of energy was slowly swirling around her.
The light within the entire Cavern of Echoes seemed to shift and change with her movements, and the pulsating sound from the depths of the earth became clearer for a moment.
"Stay here, and try to understand what true air is, what the rhythm of wind and sand is, and..."
Her gaze seemed to pierce through the rock wall, reaching into the deeper, more mysterious Heart of the Bedrock.
"What kind of existence did you unintentionally shake?"
After he finished speaking, the cave fell silent.