Thoughts

The wind on the top of the mountain suddenly stopped.

The air current that was just blowing the pine needles seemed to be held by an invisible force. Even the morning mist hanging in the air was condensed and turned into tiny dewdrops, which fell gently one by one on Yunxiu's feathers.

The dewdrops, carrying the unique coolness of the mountain top, slid down along the lines of the down feathers, making her so itchy that she couldn't help shaking her wings and holding on to the old branches with her little claws even tighter.

She was tilting her head, her pupils reflecting the almost extinguished warm light on the top of the mountain, and she wanted to jump closer to the halo - the sound just now was so special, not the rustling of the wind through the forest, not the chirping of birds, but a whisper with warmth.

It's like someone is speaking next to your ear through the morning mist; the words are clear, yet distant and illusory.

Then, the halo moved.

The hazy mist on the top of the mountain, which was emitting a faint warm light, suddenly began to ripple, as if someone had thrown a stone into a calm lake. The pale golden ripples spread out in circles, dyeing the surrounding morning mist into a light golden glow.

In the center of the light pattern, a figure gradually emerged - it was an indescribable handsomeness, with a faint light wrapped around his body. When he walked out, even the moss on the bluestone seemed to be coated with a layer of warm light.

Yunxiu forgot to even fold his wings, staring blankly at the figure that slowly emerged from the halo. His feathers shimmered in the light, a faint golden hue. His pupils were filled with the figure, and even his breathing became lighter.

The man wore a robe woven of moon-white and pale gold. The material wasn't the common silk of the mortal world, nor was it the spiritual silk weave used by immortals. Rather, it seemed woven from frozen moonlight mixed with morning dew, as light as cloud fluff, its hems shimmering with tiny, flowing shimmers as they fell. With every step, a faint golden glow emanated from the folds of the garment, landing on the moss-covered bluestone, warming the damp moss slightly and even warming the surrounding air.

The collar of the robe was very wide, revealing the soft lines of the collarbone. There was no ornament around the neck, but when the sun shone on it, one could see a faint light flowing under the skin, like a tiny galaxy hidden, gently rising and falling with her breathing.

Her hair wasn't tied into a bun, hanging loosely behind her shoulders. It wasn't the usual black, but a pale silvery-white, like the color of first snow falling on pine branches, reaching her waist. As it fell, the strands were so light they could be lifted by the occasional breeze. The ends were adorned with tiny golden gleams, not deliberately embellished pearls, but rather traces of divine power flowing naturally through her hair.

The wind blew, and a few strands of hair brushed against her cheeks, revealing her eyebrows and eyes, which made Yunxiu's heart skip a beat - so similar, so similar to Yan Xiu.

The tails of her eyes were also slightly upturned, but they were softer than Yan Xiu's. They did not have the sharpness that was typical of young people. Instead, they were like glass immersed in warm water. The color of her pupils was a very light cyan gold, brighter than the morning light rising from the top of the mountain. When she looked over, she could clearly see the tiny shape of Yunxiu's bird, and even the dewdrops on her feathers were clearly visible.

The bridge of her nose is straight but not sharp, and the tip of her nose is round with a hint of childish immaturity. However, her lip lines are very clear, like newly opened peach petals. Even when she is not smiling, she exudes a sense of softness. If she smiles, two very shallow dimples will appear at the corners of her mouth. If you don't look closely, they are almost invisible, but they instantly dilute the divine alienation and add a bit of reassuring closeness.

There was no majesty that looked down on everyone, but only a gentle feeling of "reunion after a long separation", as if he had known her for a long time and just met her again after some time.

His figure is that of a young man, upright but not overly bony, with shoulders and back relaxed. He does not have the straight back like ordinary immortals, but rather looks like a scholar taking a walk in the mountains, and each step is so light that it does not hurt the moss under his feet.

His shoulders flowed perfectly, neither the broadness common among men nor the frailty typical of women. Like bamboo shoots sprouting in early spring, they exuded resilience yet enveloped in a gentle warmth. His aura blurred the boundaries of gender. There was no roughness or elaborate embellishment, only a clean, transparent quality. A faint, warm glow lingered on his fingertips, gently swaying with his breath.

"Little Bird, don't hide."

The voice rang out again, clearer than before, a clear alto.

Like the spring breeze blowing across the strings of a piano, or like the water flowing over pebbles in a mountain stream, with a hint of smile, warmth wrapped in transparency, falling into the ears, making people relax unconsciously.

Yunxiu originally wanted to shrink back - after all, it was a stranger, but the familiarity in that voice was so strong that she couldn't help but relax her wings, and even tilted her little head and moved closer to that person.

The man didn't come any closer. Instead, he raised his right hand and gently flicked his wide sleeve. A circle of soft, warm light slowly enveloped Yunxiu, as if immersed in warm spring water, and even the feathers became warm.

She could clearly feel that the warmth was not at all aggressive, but rather had a reassuring familiarity, like the warmth she had felt nestled in the statue's shoulders and neck before she transformed, and like the nameless power that occasionally surged through her body.

The next second, the feathers began to fade.

As natural as the evaporation of morning dew. The gray-brown down feathers slowly dissipated along the path of the warm light, revealing the fair, delicate skin beneath. The tiny bird's claws gradually stretched out, becoming slender fingers, and the wings turned into drooping sleeves.

Even the clothes on her body gradually took shape - it was the plain fairy robe she usually wore, with delicate bird feather patterns embroidered on the collar with fine stitches. It was specially embroidered for her by Yingtang in the winter.

Yunxiu raised her hand in surprise, looking at the familiar lines on her palm. Her fingertips gently stroked them—this was the hand she had seen countless times since her transformation. It bore the calluses of years of sword-gripping, yet it was more nimble than a bird's claws. She touched her hair, which fell to her shoulders, and felt its softness with her fingertips. Then she looked down and saw her cloth shoes, treading on the bluestone. The toes were stained with pine needles.

It was only then that she truly realized that she had turned back into human form.

"This..." She opened her mouth, her voice a little hoarse.

The person in front of her was clearly a stranger, but the familiarity between his eyebrows and the impeccable warmth around him made her feel close to him, as if she had seen him countless times in her dreams, or as if it was a memory that had long been engraved in her bones.

She could even smell a faint scent on that person. It was not the scent of grass or incense, but a warmth similar to that of the sun, mixed with a hint of the clear morning mist, which made people want to get closer.

The man looked at her panic, the azure-gold in his eyes rippled slightly, and the warm light from his fingertips gently fell on the top of her hair:

"Don't be afraid, I'm just trying to get you back to your usual self so it'll be easier for you to talk."

Yunxiu calmed himself down, slowly raised his head, and his gaze fell on the man's face again - looking closely, he could see the similarities between him and Yan Xiu.

Yan Xiu's jawline had the toughness of a young man, while the jawline of the man in front of him was as soft as if it had been polished by moonlight. There were no excessive edges and corners, nor was there any deliberate roundness, only a kind of clean warmth. When Yan Xiu spoke, his voice had the clarity of a young man, while this man's voice was a clear baritone, and it was impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman.

"You...are you...the Ancient God?"

The divine power flowing around his body, the temperament that transcended the ordinary, and the clothing that was similar to the statues in the Yaoxi Mountain Temple but more gentle - Yunxiu could not think of a second possibility.

A faint ripple appeared in the man's azure-gold pupils. He did not deny it, but simply responded calmly: "According to you, yes."

"So... do you have a name?"

You can't really just call him the Ancient God, right?

The Ancient God's fingertips paused, his gaze shifting toward the distant valley—there, curls of smoke rose, white columns slowly dissipating in the morning light. Faintly, he could see the silhouettes of villagers working in the fields: men carrying hoes, women carrying bamboo baskets, and children running after them, a scene brimming with the vibrant life of the world. He was silent for a moment, then spoke slowly, a hint of distance in his voice: "No."

"No?" Yunxiu was stunned.

It turned out that Master hadn't lied to her! She had always thought that Master had forgotten, or simply didn't know.

"When I incarnated into the world, I never thought of leaving a name behind."

He explained, the warm light on his fingertips swaying gently with the rhythm of his words, like a small, inextinguishable star.

"Whether the living beings later called me 'God', 'Him', or any other name was their choice. I just did what I had to do. I don't need a name to be remembered by."

Yunxiu looked at his calm profile. The morning light fell on his silver hair, emitting fine golden light. Suddenly, he felt a little empty in his heart.

As if seeing through her thoughts, the Ancient God turned his head, two shallow dimples forming at the corners of his mouth, like snow on a mountaintop:

"If you want to call it anything, it's fine."

Yunxiu's face instantly felt a little hot, and she quickly shifted her gaze to his moon-white robe.

The light gold lines on the fabric were more obvious under the light. They were not embroidered, but rather looked like traces of natural condensation of divine power. They were more vivid than the lines on the statues in the mountain temple.

She calmed herself down, her fingertips still clutching the hem of her clothes, and the doubts in her mind about Zhi Huan emerged like a tiny thorn.

When she raised her eyes, she happened to meet the gentle gaze of the Ancient God. There was no urging in his turquoise pupils, as if he was waiting for her to finish her words. This made her breathe a sigh of relief, and she lowered her voice:

"What's your relationship with Zhi Huan?"

As soon as she said this, she quickly added:

"He always said that he was your will, the scattered fragments of your soul, and that resurrecting you was his mission..."

The Ancient God's gaze remained calm, neither anger nor regret. He simply nodded, the warm light on his fingertips still swaying steadily. His voice was as light as the morning mist on the mountaintop, yet it carried an undeniable clarity:

“He’s part of me.”

Yunxiu's heart sank slightly.

Ke Zhihuan's paranoia and cruelty are so contradictory to the gentleness and clarity of the god in front of him.

She bit her lower lip, clenched her fingertips tighter, and asked again:

"But he... he killed the immortal of Yaoxi Mountain and wanted to sacrifice me and the entire sect, saying that only in this way could you be resurrected. Is this... also what you meant?"

The Ancient God shook his head: "He mistook his obsession for my will."

She took half a step forward and stood closer to the ancient god. The wind from the top of the mountain occasionally blew by, and she could smell the faint warm fragrance from his hair.

"Then why me? Why is your divine power in me? Zhihuan said I was the 'perfect vessel' and that only I could bring you back to life."

The Ancient God looked at her and said calmly:

"It's not a container, it's a 'condensation of thoughts'."