Unarmored | Chapter 25 | The White Radiance Pass | Novela.app

Slender grass and soft reeds were carefully parted underfoot, making a rustling sound. Xiao Nanhui was not entirely certain if this method would work. She could only convince herself that there was no other choice and do her best to discern the faint glimmers in the darkness. The fireflies grew increasingly dense, forming a natural barrier that carved out a winding path. She and Zhongli Jing trudged along this muddy trail, their steps uneven. After nearly half an hour, the horizon seemed to broaden, and the ground beneath them became firmer, scattered with bits of gravel. Rounding the final stretch of wetland, a massive cavern entrance appeared before them. It seemed to be carved into a slope of white stone; the cave delved deep underground, pitch-black and seemingly bottomless, like the maw of a great beast. "This is..." Xiao Nanhui squinted, trying to decipher the archaic characters carved into the stone stele by the entrance. "Baiyao Pass." Zhongli Jing looked at the stele and confirmed, "This is the White Radiance Pass, abandoned for centuries." Sparks drifted into the air with the warm draft. Xiao Nanhui and Zhongli Jing sat cross-legged on the gravel bank at the cave's mouth, their backs to the obsidian depths of the pass, facing the empty, low-hanging night of the marshlands. She placed her wet boots by the fire to dry. A faint, bitter fragrance wafted through the air, cutting through the damp scent of the swamp. It was strangely grounding. She turned her head and stared at the man sitting a few paces away for a long time, her curiosity piqued. What kind of incense could be so persistent that the scent remained even after his outer robe was gone? "Hey, what is that scent on you? I can smell it wherever you go." Under the cover of night, Zhongli Jing’s profile was as motionless as a stone statue in a temple. The flecks of mud from the swamp had not yet been wiped away, and his loose hair remained unkempt, yet these imperfections gave the "statue" a touch of human warmth. "The scent of dead men's bones." "Dead men's bones?" Who was he trying to scare? As Xiao Nanhui looked around in bewilderment, Zhongli Jing lifted his left sleeve slightly, revealing the prayer beads on his wrist. She stared at the beads, and it took a long moment for her to realize what he meant. Could it be that the Buddha bone sarira intended as a medicinal catalyst for Hao Bai was actually these beads? A single sarira was a rare treasure; how did this man have so many? What was this? A display of wealth? As if reading her thoughts, he looked at her with an air of natural superiority. "I am one destined for the Buddha. Do not be envious, and certainly do not think of me in such a vulgar light." Vulgar? She hadn't said a word. Where did he get "vulgar" from? The warm campfire illuminated the stone stele, which had not heard human voices for centuries, bringing the characters into sharp relief. Xiao Nanhui looked up at the inscription, intending to test this "refined" person beside her. "What does it say?" Zhongli Jing leaned against a rock by the fire, still as a monk in meditation. Only upon hearing her voice did he slowly open his eyes and glance toward the stele. "On clear nights, cross not the White Radiance; at daybreak, tread the dark and avoid the white." Though she didn't know if he truly recognized the script or was just making it up, Xiao Nanhui was still slightly impressed. Various dialects existed across Tiancheng, but legend said that in ancient times, the script and language of the land were unified. Today, the ancient pronunciations were lost to time, but some could still read the archaic script. However, those who understood it were few, mostly elderly sages or former nobles; it was rare to see a young person with such knowledge. If such a person existed, they would certainly not be a nobody in Tiancheng. "I saw you at Yongye Temple. Are you from Que City?" His identity was clearly not simple. She finally voiced the doubt in her heart. She hadn't expected him to actually answer. "In a manner of speaking. I am merely a guest of the Prime Minister's Estate." The Prime Minister's Estate? Wasn't that just diagonally across from Yukun Street? Her suspicion flared again. "Then why have I never seen you near the estate before?" "My health is poor, so I travel by carriage. I imagine you don't spend your days loitering in the city, so it is natural we haven't met." Xiao Nanhui found this explanation lacking, but she couldn't find a reason to refute it. Just as she was about to let it go, she remembered that he already knew she was from the Marquis of Qinghuai's household. He must have overheard her prayers at Yongye Temple. Thanks to him, she had received the first "Great Misfortune" lot of her life. "You impersonated a monk and eavesdropped on someone's prayers." Zhongli Jing acted as if he hadn't heard the accusation and closed his eyes again. Xiao Nanhui hated it when people played dumb. In the past, she might have jumped up and given him a hard kick, but remembering that he had just saved her life, she suppressed her irritation and focused on the fire. Time flowed silently, yet this night felt exceptionally long. Aside from the wind, nothing could be heard. In such prolonged silence, without conversation, one might begin to wonder if they had gone deaf, unable to distinguish if the faint sound in their ears was the wind or the flow of their own blood. Mist rolled from the swamp toward the cave, bringing with it the scent of desolation. It was the smell of decaying vegetation from over ten thousand years, mixed with the fishy stench of water, filling her nose and every pore. Xiao Nanhui disliked this feeling. The tiny insects dancing among the reeds struggled to break from their cocoons, fought for food, and the males exhausted themselves searching for females to breed the next generation before finally greeting death. Born in the morning and dead by dusk, a daily cycle that performed the brevity and premature decay of life. She took a deep breath and pulled on her dry boots. As she dressed, she began to hum a little tune, trying to dispel the oppressive atmosphere. It was a melody she had heard from local mountain folk years ago when she was stationed near Xuanmen Ridge. It was originally a very long song, but she only remembered a small fragment, which she hummed repeatedly. The silent Zhongli Jing suddenly spoke. "What are you singing?" "It's a song the mountain folk sing to praise the Mountain God. They believe in an eternal deity. Legend says that if the Mountain God is moved by the singer's melodious voice, he will bestow a blessing upon them, allowing them to enjoy eternal life just like him." As she finished, she noticed a flicker of emotion on that eternally stoic face. His narrow eyes squinted slightly, his lashes casting a shadow over his dark pupils. "It is truly foolish for mortals to pursue eternity. They do not understand the horror of a beginning without an end. To eternity, years and centuries are no different from a single breath. It is like falling into a void—a void that never ends." Since they met, Xiao Nanhui had rarely seen an expression on Zhongli Jing's face. Yet the look he wore while saying those words was one of unprecedented, undisguised loathing. It was an emotion rising from the depths of his soul, one that would leave anyone who hadn't experienced it feeling confused and afraid. She was stunned. She had always felt that the man before her was like a thousand-year-old mountain or a ten-thousand-year-old lake—unshakeable and still. But now, she felt something different: perhaps his emotions were merely buried deep beneath the mountain range or at the bottom of the lake, unseen and unknown most of the time, but destined one day to surge like a flood or shake like an earthquake. She considered her words for a moment before speaking slowly. "Mortals pursue eternity probably because eternity does not exist." Zhongli Jing paused, then gave a faint smile. "True. Thus, death is not always a bad thing. The joys of the world are always fleeting. If one cannot remain in a moment of bliss, one must always face the coming of sorrow. After sorrow comes joy again, a cycle that only death can stop." "But without pain, how can we appreciate the value of joy?" She spoke with sincere conviction after serious thought. "Master Yikong of Yongye Temple once said that to be born human is to suffer. Since it cannot be avoided, one might as well face it calmly." As she spoke, she realized he was staring at her in silence, making her feel a bit uneasy. "What are you staring at me for?" Zhongli Jing remained silent for another moment before saying expressionlessly, "Yikong never said that." Xiao Nanhui’s face flushed with embarrassment, and she argued defensively, "Master Yikong loves to talk. He says so many things every day; how do you know he didn't say it?" Zhongli Jing tilted his head slightly, his upright posture becoming somewhat languid, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. "Yikong and I have been close friends for years. Aside from chanting sutras, he hardly speaks a word. He is a foreigner from the Western Seas and hasn't even mastered the phonetics of Chizhou yet. Where would he get so many words?" Xiao Nanhui was left speechless and fuming. She blamed it on this boring night and this boring place; she must have had mud in her brain to want to sit here and chat with this man. She stood up abruptly, cracking her wrists and kicking her legs as she walked toward the cave entrance. "The fire is dying. I'm going to gather some dry wood." Zhongli Jing watched her huffy departure and suddenly smiled at the campfire. ****** ****** ****** After an unknown amount of time, Xiao Nanhui felt a touch of warmth on her face. She opened her eyes to see the golden morning sun slowly rising over the swamp. The searing light rolled out from the horizon, piercing through the perennial mist and reflecting a brilliant glare. It was as if someone had shattered a giant mirror in this wilderness, the shards now reflecting a dazzling white light in the sun, both real and illusory. So this was the reason for the name "White Radiance Pass." The fireflies were also known as "Glow-nights." At night, swarms of them would emerge from the entrance of the pass to feed in the wetlands. By avoiding the fireflies, one could avoid sinking into the swamp. However, the light of the fireflies was very faint and could only be seen clearly on nights when the moon was dim—hence, "On clear nights, cross not the White Radiance." During the day, the fireflies went into hiding, and the path through the swamp vanished again. At this time, there was only a one-hour window around sunrise to exit the pass—and one could only exit, not enter. Because the exit of the White Radiance Pass faced due east, the rising sun would illuminate the watery parts of the swamp, revealing the solid ground. By avoiding the reflective areas, one could successfully navigate out of the marsh. Thus, "At daybreak, tread the dark and avoid the white." Xiao Nanhui stared blankly at this most ordinary yet miraculous moment of nature, momentarily lost for words. She suddenly thought of the legendary princess of the fallen kingdom who had fought an army alone, her body eventually sinking into the depths of the swamp. Had she seen such a sunrise? Or had she walked into that abandoned pass, going all the way down into the heart of the earth, never to return... "Let's go." A sudden voice interrupted her thoughts. Zhongli Jing stood up and turned to look at Xiao Nanhui. The morning sun gilded his face in a fiery hue. His voice was as calm as ever, as if this were just an ordinary morning and they were heading to an ordinary, safe place. She smiled toward the rising sun, suddenly feeling that having such an unshakeable companion wasn't such a bad thing after all.