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Xing Xia: Reboot Edition
墨書 Inktalez
On that rainy night, it felt as if an untamed roar from the ancient wilderness poured down from the heavens, bringing with it a bone-chilling coldness and distant thunder. A figure in black stood beneath a low eave, rainwater cascading down in a rush, forming a blurred curtain before him. His eyes were as deep as the boundless night, coldly gazing at the boy clinging tightly to his thigh.
The boy, around six or seven years old, shivered in the rain, his frail body trembling with fear and tears, revealing an unmasked dependence. His small hands clutched desperately at the hem of the black figure's clothing, as if it were the only lifeline in the world.
"Stay away from me," the figure said in a low, hoarse voice, devoid of any emotion. "I do not intend to kill you."
The sound of rain was so loud that it nearly drowned out his words. The figure did not bend down or offer any comforting gestures; there was only an icy detachment that severed all connection. Not long ago, he had used his own vital energy—an ability said to be wielded only by heroes—to incinerate his teacher. The flames had struggled to rise in the rain, consuming the body that had once taught and cared for him, seemingly burning away the last remnants of softness in his heart. Now, he bore on his shoulders another burden—a woman entrusted to him by his teacher, who appeared to be related to the boy before him. The weight of responsibility and the aftermath of what he had just experienced pressed heavily on his heart.
He had to leave. This place, this land, could no longer hold him.
However, the boy refused to let go; his frail cries pierced through the curtain of rain. The sky grew darker, thunder rumbling overhead as if it sought to tear apart the heavens. The torrential raindrops fell mercilessly, quickly pooling around his ankles. The figure knew he could not delay any longer.
Taking a deep breath, he felt a complex mix of vital energy and some darker force swirling within him. Without hesitation, he exerted some strength—too much for a child to withstand. The boy felt an irresistible force pulling at him; his grip was forcibly pried away. He stumbled back and fell into the mud, staring blankly at the black figure slowly retreating into the pouring rain without looking back, until he vanished into the hazy downpour. Left alone in that silent and cold rainy night, he let the rain wash away the tears on his cheeks.
A startled cry broke through a nightmare's remnants, carrying with it a lingering fear like a stone thrown into a tranquil lake, sending ripples across the peaceful morning of Taoyuan Town. In a room on the second floor of Wanfule Building, Ran Xing suddenly sat up on his bed, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as if he had just been pulled from water. Sunlight streamed through paper-covered windows, casting a light golden hue over the dust-filled air but failing to dispel the gloom that hung over his heart. It was that nightmare again—the rainy night, that figure in black, and himself being forcefully cast aside. Countless times this scene replayed in his mind with clarity as if it had just happened yesterday, each time dragging him back to that cold and damp night.
He gasped for breath as his heart raced wildly. This was not the first time he had asked his adoptive mother Mo Yun for permission to leave Taoyuan Town in search of the legendary trial grounds. He knew that faintly visible unusual patterns on his palm might be incomprehensible to others but were seen by those who had heard tales of "Yin-Yang Imprints" as possibly being a "key" to another world—a qualification for becoming a hero from birth. He desperately wanted to become a hero not only because they were said to possess great power capable of traversing heaven and earth and vanquishing demons but also because deep down he felt an intense premonition that this mysterious place was connected to his sister who had been lost for many years. He needed enough strength to find her, unravel the mystery of that rainy night, and discover who he truly was and what blood flowed through his veins.
Yet Mo Yun's response was always surprisingly consistent and resolutely despairing. She would lock him in with cold iron chains instead of warm maternal hands, silently telling him—do not step outside this door. Ever since Ran Xing's sister went missing years ago, Mo Yun had held onto this small Wanfule Building along with all her hopes tightly in her grasp and placed them upon Ran Xing's shoulders. She trained young Ran Xing as if he were destined to be the future owner of their shop—teaching him how to manage accounts and interact with customers down to every detail. Over these years, Ran Xing had indeed lived up to her expectations; he managed shop affairs quite well with clear accounts and customers who appreciated his efficiency. He could have lived a stable and even prosperous life in Taoyuan Town; however, his heart felt as if it were being pulled by an invisible hand toward distant horizons—the vague trial grounds where he sought answers about his sister.
Each time he attempted to escape, Mo Yun would intercept him through Old Hu—the town's informant—who always seemed aware of his whereabouts and would bring him back before he could leave town. This time Mo Yun even resorted to iron chains to lock him in on the second floor clearly indicating she would not allow him any thoughts of leaving this time. It was her most severe measure yet against him; it showed how deeply her worries ran.
However, after locking him away, Mo Yun did not feel entirely at ease either. She sat in the lobby downstairs with an abacus in hand but frequently glanced toward the door. She knew Old Hu would come today; she called for him partly hoping this knowledgeable man could dissuade Ran Xing from pursuing dangers outside while also harboring a flicker of unacknowledged hope deep within—perhaps Old Hu might see something different on his map or hear some clues about her sister through his extensive network? Though this thought was quickly doused by reality’s cold water—it remained a glimmer of desire.
When Old Hu's characteristic laughter—tinged with worldly wisdom yet playful—echoed from outside the door, Mo Yun almost immediately stood up. She hurried to the staircase and called upstairs: "Ran Xing! Old Hu is here! Come down!" As she shouted this while tremblingly unlocking Ran Xing's room with her key, she opened the door wide for him to step out; he emerged looking pale from both nightmares and confinement’s frustration. Mo Yun did not look at him but silently returned behind the counter and tucked away her key into her pocket. The opened door felt like a slight easing within her heart—a reliance on Old Hu—hoping this old companion could steer this child back onto "the right path."
Old Hu wore that familiar smile while twirling two walnuts in hand that clacked together like an ever-turning abacus or perhaps an indifferent grasp on time’s passage itself. His eyes sparkled with insight as if nothing happening in Taoyuan Town—whether someone’s wedding or merely losing a nail—could escape his notice or ears. He sat down accepting hot tea from Mo Yun without rushing to drink it but simply warming his hands instead. The room filled with a faint aroma of tea mingling with aged wood from furniture alongside Ran Xing’s sweat from earlier nightmares—a unique scent belonging solely to Wanfule Building now overshadowed by an invisible tension hanging thickly in the air.
Old Hu first pulled Ran Xing aside to ask about mundane matters—how business was at the shop, whether he kicked off his blanket at night, and if he had been having that dream that always woke him up. His words were as ordinary as could be, as if today’s visit to Wanfu Tower was just another casual outing for tea and conversation. He didn’t even directly mention the Trial Grounds, instead engaging in small talk.
“Ran Xing,” Old Hu said, taking a sip of tea and looking at him, then casually shifted the topic. “Your mother, Mo Yun, has had a tough time these years. As a woman managing the shop so well and raising you… it’s not easy. You’ve got to step up; the shop can’t do without you now.”
Mo Yun listened quietly from behind the counter, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the abacus beads, producing faint sounds. Old Hu didn’t preach directly but approached it from her perspective, making Ran Xing understand his responsibility. Mo Yun sighed inwardly; Old Hu was still the same Old Hu, knowing just how to get through to him.
Old Hu continued, his voice calm yet carrying a penetrating weight: “The outside world is something you’ve never seen before. You think everything is fresh and full of opportunities. Wanting to venture out is fine; who doesn’t want to soar high when they’re young? But before you take flight, you need to check if your wings are strong enough and whether the sky outside is as clear as you imagine.”
He looked at Ran Xing, his gaze deep: “Take that Trial Grounds you mentioned. The rumors make it sound miraculous, like a place where one can rise to greatness in a single step. But what I’ve heard and seen tells a different story.”
Instead of describing terrifying details directly as he had before, Old Hu chose a more subtle approach that provoked deeper thought: “The roads outside aren’t like the smooth stone paths of Taoyuan Town. There are mountains, rivers, deserts, and unexpected swamps. You might step into one and get stuck; the more you struggle, the deeper you sink until you’re lost entirely.”
He paused, his tone growing somber: “Moreover, the sky outside isn’t always blue. Sometimes storms arise—not just winds that topple trees but strange gales that scatter hearts. Those winds carry many unclean things that can seep into your bones and transform you into someone unrecognizable.”
Old Hu’s eyes held a mix of warning and pity as he looked at Ran Xing: “The mark in your hand might be a good thing, giving you a higher starting point than others. But it’s also a target—a piece of meat that hungry wolves will come after when they catch its scent. Before you find what you're looking for, you might already become someone else's meal.”
His words fell like cold water on Ran Xing’s head. He felt Mo Yun's tense body behind the counter and sensed the heavy air in the room. He knew Old Hu spoke the truth; those rumors wouldn’t tell him these things. But Old Hu seemed to genuinely understand the cruelty of that world. His heart wasn’t without turmoil or fear—death, loss of control, vanishing without a trace—these terrifying words coiled around him like venomous snakes. Yet deep within him burned an obsession—a longing for his sister and a desire to unravel the mystery of his origins—that blazed like an inferno, consuming all negative emotions in an instant. He couldn’t stop or retreat.
Clenching his fists until his nails nearly dug into his flesh, he felt the heat rising in his palms. He looked up at Old Hu, trying to glean more from those eyes and find a way to argue back but only saw depth and an unshakeable reality. Then he glanced at Mo Yun; she sat there with her head bowed, silently rubbing her hands over the abacus as if seeking solace in its rhythm. Her silence spoke volumes about her inner pain and struggle.
Old Hu noticed the flicker of fear and conflict on Ran Xing's face and realized his words had made an impact. Yet he also saw the undying spark deep within Ran Xing’s eyes. He understood that fear might deter someone temporarily but not for a lifetime; this child’s inner fire wouldn’t be easily extinguished.
He turned to glance at Mo Yun, who was looking back at him with questioning eyes filled with helplessness. Their years of understanding allowed Old Hu to grasp her meaning: how far could he persuade him? What could he do? Mo Yun placed her hope in him, wishing he could find a compromise or at least make this inevitable parting less despairing.
Old Hu sighed internally; he knew this matter wouldn’t resolve easily today. Once this child set his mind on something, it was like trying to pull an ox back—it simply wouldn’t budge. Since he couldn’t stop him outright, he needed to think of another way—at least tether him with a thread so he would know where home lay ahead. This would also provide Mo Yun with some closure and a reason she could accept while waiting.
He turned back to Ran Xing, softening his tone again but with a weighty seriousness as if entrusting something immensely important: “Ran Xing, your mother Mo Yun has had it hard; I understand your thoughts too. If you insist on going, I can’t stop you. However, you must realize how much hope and worry your departure carries for her. She doesn’t expect you to become wealthy or bring glory; she only wishes for your safety above all else. What weighs most on her heart is not just you but also your missing sister.”
He paused before presenting a condition that seemed prearranged between him and Mo Yun—a chance for Ran Xing to prove himself while offering Mo Yun some hope as well. This condition represented Mo Yun's final bottom line and was perhaps her only possibility for letting go.
"Alright, Ran Xing," Old Hu said, his gaze intense as he looked at Ran Xing. "Since you are truly determined to venture into that cursed place and fight for yourself, let's make a written agreement. This isn't for me, nor for your mother Mo Yun; it's for you to see, for the heavens to witness, and most importantly, for your mother to hold onto."
He extended his finger and lightly tapped the table, emphasizing the content of the agreement. Each word felt like a nail being driven into Ran Xing's ears: "The agreement must clearly state two points. First, you are going there to fight for your life. You will not rest until you achieve your goal, find your sister, and uncover your origins! No matter how great the difficulties or dangers you encounter, grit your teeth and keep moving forward; do not give up easily!"
He paused for a moment, looking at Ran Xing with a serious and deliberate tone, as if to underscore the weight of this promise: "The second point, and the most crucial one—listen carefully, kid! You must return safely! And you must bring your sister back with you to Taoyuan Town, back to Wanfu Building! Only then can all the worries your mother Mo Yun has endured over the years and the hardships she has faced be considered worthwhile. Otherwise..." Old Hu left the thought hanging in the air, but the unspoken "otherwise" felt like a dull knife that cut deeply into both Mo Yun's and Ran Xing's hearts. Otherwise meant a final farewell, all hope turning to dust, and all of Mo Yun's sacrifices over the years wasted.
As Ran Xing listened to Old Hu's words, each one felt like a brand searing into his heart. He could sense the worry and expectation in Old Hu's voice and even more so the silent yet heavy love from his mother Mo Yun. He looked at her; she sat there with her head bowed, her hands silently rubbing over an abacus as if seeking solace in its rhythm. Her silence spoke volumes about her inner pain and struggle—more than any words could convey. The "otherwise" weighed heavily on his chest like a boulder, making it hard for him to breathe. He understood that this condition was not just for himself but also for Mo Yun.
Was he afraid? Yes! The world Old Hu described was terrifying—so terrifying that he could hardly bear to think about it. Those veiled metaphors only heightened his fear of the unknown. But what about his sister? What about the figure in black from that rainy night? What about the lines in his palm? They hooked into his heart like barbs, refusing to let him stop. He had to go—not just for himself but also for Mo Yun's hope.
He took a deep breath as if trying to suppress all his fears and shoulder all responsibilities. He understood the weight of this agreement and how much Mo Yun had endured for him. This was not merely a simple request; it was Mo Yun pouring all her love and concern into this heavy expectation. To return safely with his sister meant he would have to face the dangers of that trial ground while also bearing the responsibility of bringing her back—and ensuring he could return alive to Mo Yun, back to Wanfu Building where he was raised.
This agreement was not a shackle but a promise—a commitment. He knew this was all Mo Yun could do for him now and her greatest trust in him. He looked at Mo Yun, seeing the complex pain in her eyes, and made his final decision deep within himself—a resolution filled with determination and heavy responsibility.
He lifted his head to look at Old Hu again before glancing at Mo Yun. Taking another deep breath, his voice trembled slightly but remained resolute: "Uncle Old Hu, Mother Mo Yun," he paused as if summoning every ounce of strength to say what came next—each word resonating with conviction—"I understand clearly. I will write it! I will write this agreement right now!"
The air downstairs seemed to freeze for a moment. Mo Yun slowly released her grip on her clothing; tears finally spilled from her eyes down her cheeks. She said nothing but lowered her gaze as if trying to block out everything around her. Old Hu smiled softly in relief, though tinged with a hint of worry about what lay ahead. He knew this child had made his choice and was willing to bear this heavy promise. He said nothing more but nodded gently.
Mo Yun wiped away her tears, stood up, and walked toward the counter where she retrieved high-quality paper and pen from the innermost drawer—items she usually hesitated to use—and brought out an inkstone and ink stick. Her movements were slow; every detail revealed her complex emotions at that moment—a mix of reluctance, worry, pain, and faint hope. She placed the paper and pen on the table before pouring a small cup of water into the inkstone. She knew that from this moment on, Ran Xing's fate would no longer be solely in her hands but would be determined by him and by that unknown perilous trial ground. Yet at least he would carry her hopes with him along with that heavy promise as he embarked on his journey. This agreement was her last "amulet" for him and also her only "anchor" deep within herself. There was nothing more she could do.
Old Hu watched Mo Yun retrieve the paper and pen with a sigh in his heart. He knew another young person from Taoyuan Town was about to take flight into the world beyond—one that was vast yet cruel. He hoped this child would indeed carve out a path as written in that agreement, returning with his sister back to their warm little town and Wanfu Building waiting for them. But how many unknowns and tempests awaited him on this long road? No one could predict.
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