VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 941: Dirge of Fallen Deity

Yan Yun, deathly pale with terror, fled back into the house, frantically pounding on the chamber door:

“Immortal Mother! Immortal Mother! Wildkin! The Wildkin are here!”

In that era, the Zhoukin saw the world in two: Statefolk and Wildkin.Statefolk were those dwelling in Haojing or bearing noble status and lineage, while Wildkin encompassed slaves, beasts, and others—to the Statefolk, Wildkin were no different from animals.

Statefolk didn’t eat human flesh, but for rituals—burials or divinations—live sacrifices were common, with hundreds or thousands of Wildkin’s heads severed routinely.

On the other side, Wildkin devoured men. Like pack beasts, they plundered grain, wealth, women, and men wherever they roamed. Those captured faced fates far worse than live sacrifice.

As a scholar-gentry’s daughter, Yan Yun knew their horror. She hammered on Xi Qing’s door, but hearing no response, she pushed and found it open.

Xi Qing lay collapsed and unconscious, a sight Yan Yun had witnessed before, as Xi Qing had warned her end was near.

Yan Yun’s heart raced. Feeling faint breath at Xi Qing’s nose, she lifted her onto the bed. As if drawn, then her gaze fell upon a strange niche by the wall corner.

The niche, just tall enough for a crouching person, veiled by two cloth curtains, marked with odd symbols.

Now, a grinding of teeth, louder than ever, echoed from within.

Driven by curiosity, Yan Yun lifted the curtain, revealing a shallow burrow containing a gourd-shaped clay figure.

Its eyes widened at her, and with a _pop_, it sprang up, crashing into her chest and sending them both tumbling onto the bed.

“Zhu Qiu, stop!”

Xi Qing stirred, her frail voice barely audible as she called out.

Zhu Qiu’s madness stemmed from his heart, twisted by his defeat at the Moltenpyre Mountain. The twisted flames of his heart reshaped him.

He craved vengeance, slaughter, even the world’s end.

Sealed within the clay figure, Xi Qing had kept him bound. Now, he posed an imminent disaster.

In that dire moment, Yan Yun shouted toward her shrine: “Right God of Fortune and Virtue, save me!”

Her room held a Right God of Fortune and Virtue statue, molded by her hands from river clay.

At her cry, the light streaming through the window dimmed. Specks of dust swirled, gradually gathering into a robed figure:

“Right God of Fortune and Virtue stands here. How dare you defy?”

His voice boomed, like brazen thunder, resonant as a bell. The clay figure spun wildly, then shot to the floor, fleeing out the door in a flash.

Yan Yun’s cry had been instinctive, but yet seeing the god’s form stunned her speechless. Xi Qing sighed silently and whispered: “You’ve entered the earthly realm; it’s best not to meddle in mortal affairs.”

The figure didn’t reply, but bowing to Xi Qing: “Fude greets the Celestial! The hour nears, I’ve come to escort you onward.”

Yan Yun grasped the truth and wailed: “Right God of Fortune and Virtue, if there’s a way to prolong Immortal Mother’s life, I’d shatter my bones, burn my flesh to do it!”

Xi Qing shook her head. “Yan Yun, no!”

“Without you, Immortal Mother, I’d have frozen in the snow, and with Wildkin armies outside, death is certain today—yet I’d rather save your life!”

The figure paused, then said: “Your resolve brings blessings to all beings.”

“I only want to save Immortal Mother, not the world!”

“Yet your act saves the world!”

“How so?”

“When I repelled Zhu Qiu, he turned his wrath on the Quanrong outside. He won’t return, for if left unchecked, he’d flood the land with blood.”

“Immortal Mother, is this true?”

Bewildered, Yan Yun turned to Xi Qing, her face a mask of awe, for in her eighteen years, only Zhang Fude, who died for her, and Xi Qing, who saved her, had mattered, while the “world” seemed too vast for her.

Xi Qing nodded gravely. “Yan Yun, the Quanrong siege has lifts. Leave this place and live.”

Yet Yan Yun stood motionless, like a statue of radiant beauty, for a quarter-hour before speaking: “Immortal Mother, did you foresee this?”

Xi Qing nodded again.

Yan Yun’s smile, radiant enough to topple kingdoms, bloomed: “For eleven years, I’ve wondered why you deified the Right God of Fortune and Virtue, saved me, and hid in these hills, guarding this clay calamity—now, it’s clear.”

“You saved me out of compassion, deified for justice, and stayed here, guarding this clay calamity to defend the heavens’ way!”

“I’m no coward clinging to life! If I can save all beings—or even just another Yan Yun—I’ll fulfill my duty without betraying your nurturing!”

Xi Qing gazed at Yan Yun, radiant as a blooming flower, and felt that this era’s mortals weren’t hopeless, for with a righteous servant like the Right God of Fortune and Virtue and a selfless maiden like Yan Yun, this age might not shatter like hers own.

The figure spoke solemnly: “Miss, are you certain? This vow is binding.”

“My words as Yan Yun, never falter or regret!”

The figure sighed heavily, then spoke with hope to Xi Qing: “Then… Fude will return in sixty years to escort the Celestial.”

With that, the window’s light flared, and the figure dissolved into dust.

Yan Yun flashed Xi Qing a playful grin: “Immortal Mother, eat me gently, okay?”

But Xi Qing’s face grew stern as she said, “Yan Yun, your Heaven-Born Jade Frame is a vessel. Without my protection, spirits would’ve possessed you after your first blood, for you’re their perfect vessel.”

“Immortal Mother, I don’t understand.”

“Yan Yun, your era is strange—beastly kin like Wildkin devouring raw flesh, yet a jade like you, a form capable of holding all things. Even my life’s wisdom can’t unravel it.”

Playfully impish, Yan Yun took Xi Qing’s hand, tracing circles in her palm, a gesture Xi Qing had used to soothe her childhood sorrows.

Then, sitting sat on the bed, Yan Yun hugged her softly: “Immortal Mother, don’t grieve. If I was born for this, for in the cycle of rebirth, a day will come when we meet again.”

Xi Qing closed her eyes, tears falling as she said, “Zhu Qiu and I lived forever to escape that cycle. Finding a beloved is but a fleeting bloom…”

“Immortal Mother,” Yan Yun whispered, “I know… my only regret is not being your daughter. If there’s a next life…”

Feeling Yan Yun’s unwavering resolve and pulsing heart, Xi Qing she opened her eyes, declaring:

“Yan Yun, I, Xi Qing, swear here: no matter the cycles of rebirth or the passage of time, in some a life, you will be the daughter of Zhu Qiu and me, and we three will live together, never to be parted!”

At that moment, Yan Yun’s arms emptied as Xi Qing collapsed, like a deflated husk.

Yan Yun’s body swayed twice, then stilled.

In a light voice, Yan Yun said: “Mother, hurry, or Father will go far,” and nodding to herself with a smile, she burst through the roof with a whoosh, her form soaring into the sky as a radiant streak of light, vanishing into the vast heavens.