The Distant Reaches of the Tide of Symbiosis
Ripples of the Sea of True Nature crossed the boundary of Symbiosis Bay, like a gentle film enveloping the Realm of No Law. When the authenticity of cross-border existence and original structure intertwined in the waves to form a "rainbow-like energy band," Qingxian, Yanche, and Luoyu looked along the new ripples at the end of the Bridge of Resonance and discovered that the "unknown surge" did not come from a fixed domain, but from countless "beings in the process of being generated"—they had no form, no laws, and not even a clear consciousness, but were just clusters of "chaotic desires," like seeds waiting to be awakened.
When Qingxian's true core touched upon the desire of chaos, the energy encompassing light and darkness spontaneously transformed into a "warm halo," gently enveloping the outermost cluster of desire. Surprisingly, the "initial patterns of the Realm of Primordial Beginning" emerged within the halo—not a replica, but rather, the desire, nourished by the halo, spontaneously "chosen" a similar direction of evolution. When she withdrew the energy, that desire had condensed into "tiny star-like points bearing patterns of light and darkness," still immature, yet possessing the autonomous consciousness to "move forward."
"Awakening is not shaping, but 'providing a possibility of beginning'." Qingxian watched as the little star met another star "touched by Yanche's creative energy." The two did not merge, but instead revolved around each other, forming a trajectory that was "both independent and interdependent." She recalled the symbiosis of the two poles in the Realm of Taiji, and the interdependence of substance and emptiness in the Realm of Taisu. It turned out that the starting point of all relationships was simply "the desire to get closer."
Yanche's true core lies in the chaotic yearning, releasing a "relaxed feeling of letting go of attachments." The desires he touches do not immediately solidify into form, but first "spread out into finer points of light," as if enjoying "undefined freedom." Until a certain point of light suddenly "wants to become a flower," the surrounding points of light spontaneously converge, building a "calyx bearing the marks of creation" for it—the petals are fluid, the core is transparent, yet when it blooms, it exudes "the pure joy of 'I want to exist'."
"The ultimate gentleness of creation is 'allowing things to take their time.'" Yanche watched the flower sway gently in the sea breeze. It did not follow any laws of growth, yet it was more "vibrant" than any carefully designed form. He discovered that when he no longer expected "results," he could witness a "more natural bloom"—just like the Tree of Primordial Beginning, which "accidentally" grew its first leaf in chaos.
When Luoyu's true core met the primordial desire, the gentle energy connecting all things transformed into "invisible threads," stringing together those scattered desires into a "flowing network." A clump of desires, still unaware of its own existence, "sensed" the trajectory of distant stars through the threads and spontaneously drifted towards them; a clump of desires "wanting to make a sound," guided by the threads, met a star "capable of receiving sound," emitting for the first time "an off-key yet joyful ripple."
"Connection is not coercion, but 'providing opportunities to meet.'" Luoyu looked at the desires in the network like "a group of children traveling together," some fast, some slow, some stopping to curiously look around, but no one was left behind. At the other end of the thread, the melody light from the Realm of Sound was sending "soothing frequencies" through the Bridge of Resonance, gradually calming those desires that were anxious about "not knowing what they would become"—it turns out that "uncertainty" itself is also part of existence.
When the three guardians stepped into the "Field of Sprouting," the primordial seawater beneath their feet had solidified into "soft energy soil," from which countless "tender shoots bearing chaotic patterns" sprouted: some shoots shimmered with the Primordial Beginning light, some leaf veins concealed mirrored reverse patterns, and some roots Entanglement with wisps of light mist from Third Type of Existence, yet all grew "at their own pace." The "Tree of Sprouting" in the center of the wilderness differed from the other trees; its branches were "a network of countless interwoven threads," each node bearing "fruits of yearning awaiting awakening."
"This is the 'cradle of existence'." A group of "Sprout Spirits," formed from the yearning of chaos, surrounded us. They were translucent buds, their voices carrying the "dazedness of just waking up," "Your essence is not guidance, but the courage to 'take the first step'—like the first ray of light in the darkness, not telling us which way to go, but daring us to open our eyes."
Qingxian initiated the "Rite of Companionship" in the Field of Sprouting —a ceremony without ceremony, simply inviting all those willing to stay to "gently protect" the tender buds with their own genuine energy. She chose a small bud that "dared not bloom," transforming the light and shadow into a "barrier of non-interference," isolating it from the noise of the outside world. Three days later, the bud finally mustered the courage to bloom, revealing a flower with "timid patterns," its petals filled with the faint ripples of "'thank you for waiting.'"
"The meaning of companionship is letting the other person know: 'Don't rush, I'm here.'" Qingxian watched the flower attract tiny stars and suddenly understood that "protection" is never about "guiding the way," but rather "providing a safe corner so the other person dares to choose their own path." Like the original Taiji guardian, perhaps it simply means "allowing the two poles to find balance in their own way."
After Yanche's true core connected with the nodes of the Tree of Sprouting, those "yearning for fruit" began to "dream"—countless possible forms emerged on the surface of the fruit: some wanted to become "morphing structures," some wanted to "remain in chaos forever," and some even wanted to "become bridges connecting different realms." He did not interfere with these dreams, but simply let his "creative memories" become "fertilizer," allowing the fruits to "see more possibilities" in their dreams.
"The best creation is 'enabling others to dream.'" Yanche watched as a fruit that "wanted to become a bridge" ripened and fell to the ground, transforming into a "small arched bridge with patterns of creation." Although it could only connect two tender buds, it let out a cheer of "'I did it!'" upon completion. He suddenly felt that compared to those grand creations of laws, these tiny "firsts" might be closer to the "original intention of creation."
Luoyu weaves a "starry dome" above the Field of Sprouting, each "star" a authentic imprint of an "awakened being." When a new star is born, the dome gains another; when two beings meet, their corresponding stars connect. Most movingly, stars from different realms "twinkle"—the melodic light of the Realm of Sound accompanies the stars that "want to speak," while the colorful beings of the Realm of Emotion dye the flowers that "want to bloom," forming a "blessing that transcends boundaries."
"The ultimate goal of meeting is 'to applaud each other even when we are different.'" Luoyu looked at the brightest cluster of stars in the dome, a "symbiotic zone" composed of the structure of the Sea of True Nature, cross-border existence, and newly awakened stars—their laws are different, their forms are varied, yet they all become "brighter" in each other's light.
When the first ray of Field of Sprouting —a convergence of joyful energies from countless new existences—shone upon the Tree of Sprouting, all the tender buds simultaneously blossomed, bearing fruits "each with its own true essence": some fruits contained "an eternally chaotic longing," some "constantly transforming starlight," some "threads connecting all things," and the most special fruit contained "a mirror that could reflect all existence," yet in the mirror there was no image, only "the gentle ripple of 'You are well.'"
"The meaning of the mirror is to allow every being to see its own preciousness." The Sprout Spirits held the mirror fruit and hung it at the top of the Tree of Sprouting. "The paths you have walked, the boundaries you have broken, have ultimately become this mirror—not for us to imitate, but to let us believe: 'We too can forge our own path.'"
Qingxian, Yanche, and Luoyu sat on the "cradle bench" in the Field of Sprouting, a bench formed from the first blooming flower, the first star, and the first small arched bridge, still brimming with "fresh vitality." They watched the new beings playing under the mirror fruit: some practicing transformation, some attempting to connect, and some simply "quietly daydreaming," yet all radiating a sense of "satisfaction at being here."
"Perhaps our journey is to become 'mirrors of others.'" The halo of Qingxian resonated with the ripples of the Mirror Fruit, reflecting the figures of all existence on the sea surface—from Taiji to the Realm of No Law, from reality to mirror image, from the ancient to the new, each figure "shines" on its own trajectory.
Yanche watched as another bridge, "with mirrored patterns," grew beside the small arched bridge. The two bridges didn't compete; instead, they connected to form a "wider road." He suddenly understood that the "legacy of creation" wasn't about leaving behind instruments or rules, but about leaving behind the "courage to create."
The starry dome of Luoyu has extended to the edge of the Field of Sprouting, where new ripples are stirring with "even more tender desires." On a new page of "Boundless Poem," she draws a seed buried in the soil, and writes beside it, "The best story is one that gives others the opportunity to write their own story."
In the distance, that timid flower has already produced seeds. A gust of wind blows, and the seeds, carrying the "marks of light and darkness," drift towards new ripples—they will not know Qingxian's name, but they will carry the memory of being "treated gently," to awaken more "desires waiting to exist."
Qingxian, Yanche, and Luoyu didn't get up to chase after them; they simply sat on the bench, watching the direction the seeds had gone. Sunlight pierced through the mirror-like fruit, casting "warm spots of light" on them, within which countless new chapters were being written.
The journey of existence is never a solitary one, but rather "becoming a light on someone else's path," and then watching that light illuminate a more distant horizon.