Chapter 22 – The Twenty-Second Ray of Light

The High Priest was a figure of mystique and reverence: clad in white robes that shimmered like gold, wielding a silver branch as his staff. His black hair flowed like water, his staff symbolized fire, and his body bore the essence of earth. Standing at the intersection of Kun and Qian, he served as the medium between heaven and earth, the messenger linking all beings, and the divine authority issuing commands.

When the staff was raised, the silver branch ignited a flame, wood birthed fire. When the staff struck the ground, it symbolized fire sowing itself into the yellow earth, fire giving life to earth.

The yellow earth, embracing the white robes, nurtured life and metals—earth birthing metal. The metals, melted into his flowing hair, formed water and origins—metal birthing water.

When the silver branch met water, life flourished—water birthed wood.

Thus, the external cycle of the five elements was completed, uniting heaven, earth, and humanity. When he spoke, ghosts and gods trembled; when he moved, winds and thunder surged. With the power of the Dao, he accomplished what the Dao itself could not—a privilege exclusive to the divine.

His words shaped reality.

If Ji Si declared, “This path is closed,” then even the clearest of roads would twist into an endless maze. One thought could shatter mountains and split the earth; another could dry up seas and crumble stones. This power of word and spirit was so overwhelming that even demons and monsters dared not challenge it. How could a mere pack of oversized rodents defy such a command?

Using the blood of a giant rat as the medium, an invisible force spread at light speed along the contours of the Ningyuan Mountains. It was like a sudden gale sweeping through, causing the dead wood to crackle faintly and stir up ethereal dust.

The force formed a complete circuit, and a protective barrier was born. With a single strike of his staff, Ji Si severed the boundary between life and death.

He withdrew his staff, standing before the barrier, exuding an aura so transcendent it seemed almost otherworldly.

A familiar voice broke through the silence. Perhaps Si Nuocheng had been stunned by the swiftness and ferocity of Ji Si’s actions, for he took a full three seconds to speak: “Did you just… stab someone’s pet bamboo rat?”

“Bamboo rat?” Ji Si turned slightly, ready to enlighten Si Nuocheng. “Look closer and tell me what this is. If I hadn’t acted fast, it would’ve sunk its teeth into my leg.”

The dim streetlamp cast enough light to reveal the creature sprawled in a pool of blood. Its coarse fur was matted with mud, its sharp claws had scraped the ground, twitching faintly as if it hadn’t fully died. With its plump ears, long tail, and pointed snout, it was undeniably a rat.

A rat weighing at least twenty pounds.

Si Nuocheng pursed his lips. “This… is quite rare.”

“Rare?” Ji Si chuckled, raising his staff to point toward the forest. “Take a good look at what’s over there. If I hadn’t been quick, those things would already be gnawing on your bones.”

Alarm bells rang in Si Nuocheng’s head as he instinctively looked toward the forest. The next second, the scene before him made his hair stand on end, his sharp eyes widening in shock.

Rats.

Massive rats, densely packed, swarming the mountain like a tidal wave of black. Each one was no smaller than the dead one, piling on top of each other in a frenzied mass, clawing at something invisible.

Yes, invisible.

Si Nuocheng noticed what seemed to be a transparent wall erected at the foot of the Ningyuan Mountains, stretching for miles and miles, unyielding and impenetrable. It stood firmly between the mountain range and the nearby towns, cutting off all possible contact between the rats and humans. It extended upward toward the heavens, so high that even as the rats formed a terrifying pyramid-like structure, they couldn’t reach its edge.

A transparent, unbreakable barrier. Was it… tempered glass?

No. If it were tempered glass, how did the rats get through earlier? Besides, constructing a tempered glass wall in the middle of a busy area would definitely spark public outrage.

So, what was this?

A sudden flash of realization struck, and Ji Si’s earlier words echoed in his mind: “If I hadn’t been quick, they’d already be gnawing on your bones.”

“If I hadn’t been quick…” Quick… hand? Wait!

“Whatever you’re about to ask, keep quiet,” Ji Si interrupted, stepping forward to face the rats. “No matter what you see, keep your mouth shut. I’m about to cleanse the mountains and drive away the filth.”

The ancient Ningyuan Mountains should have been under the protection of a mountain deity. Unfortunately, after thousands of years of sheltering humanity—providing food, crops, and minerals—it had received nothing but poaching, overdevelopment, and exploitation in return.

Over the years, good karma bore no good fruit. The last remnants of the mountain’s spirit had been ground to dust. The mountain deity had dissipated, returning to the heavens and earth. The gates of hell had cracked open, allowing a horde of demons to claim the wicked fruits sown by humanity.

This collective sin weighed heavily on the world, but not all kindness deserved to be buried under it.

Ji Si raised his staff and released it. It hovered steadily in midair. Under Si Nuocheng’s incredulous gaze, Ji Si lifted his hands upward, as though supporting the staff—but what he truly held was the mountains and rivers themselves.

He called out, “Wind, come—”

His words, spells cast with instant effect, were commands to the elements. At that moment, a fierce gale roared to life, whipping Si Nuocheng’s hair and filling the High Priest’s robes. The wind surged along the barrier, growing wilder and more ferocious with each passing moment.

“Wind spirit, send them to hell.”

Whoosh—an eerie sound echoed across the land as the wind swept through the mountains, gathering snow into a massive vortex. Dead trees groaned, living creatures mourned, and the cries of foxes and birds were shredded into fragments. The bloodthirsty rats, despite their overwhelming numbers, were powerless against the whirlwind!

Caught in the spiraling wind, the rats merged into a black torrent. Like ink spilled into water, they darkened the entire wind domain. Strangely, the wind carried the rats away by the ton but left every blade of grass and tree within the mountains untouched.

The black wind, mingled with the shrieks of the beasts, soared tens of thousands of miles into the sky. From the foot of the mountain to the heavens, it constructed what seemed to be a vast, pitch-black fortress.

“Look! What’s that?” Voices of astonishment spread far and wide. The mountain’s size determined the scope of its influence. People hiding indoors from the gale peeked through their windows, unwilling to miss this once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.

“A tornado?”

“If it’s really a tornado this big, why hasn’t it uprooted any trees? And what’s that black stuff in the wind?”

Some took photos. Some recorded videos. Others, trembling, pulled out their phones to log onto Weibo. After checking the time and the black wind repeatedly, they frantically deleted their angry comments, leaving behind strings of desperate apologies under certain posts: “Daddy, I was wrong,” and “Master, I’m begging you on my knees.”

At the same time, as the wind swept away the rats, the crisis for the soldiers was finally averted. They rushed to their wounded comrades, stopping the bleeding and bandaging them up before regrouping to retreat down the mountain.

Above them was the sky-blackening swarm of rats; beneath them, blood-soaked and slippery snow. Between heaven and earth, humanity seemed as insignificant as ants.

“Old Zhou’s not gonna make it! Captain!” A soldier, tears blurring his vision, clutched his comrade’s hand tightly. “His guts are spilling out. He’s lost too much blood… I can’t even hear what he’s trying to say anymore!”

“Captain, Ah Qi can’t be moved any further!”

“Captain…”

Jiang Ziying tilted her head back, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. Since joining the team, no amount of grueling training had made her cry, not even when a giant rat bit her face. But now, faced with the loss of her comrades, she couldn’t hold back.

“Stay with them and wait for the medics to come up the mountain,” Shen Yunting patted her on the shoulder. Between comrades, no excessive consolation was needed. “The medics will tend to the severely injured first. Those with lighter wounds, patch yourselves up. Everyone else, take shifts with me standing guard. Don’t let anything else get near our people!”

“Yes, sir!”

Blood streaked down Jiang Ziying’s face as she suppressed all her emotions. “…If…if there’s a god out there, please help us.” Her voice was soft, carried away by the wind to an immeasurable distance.

Help us! At least let them live! Let them survive! They—don’t deserve to die here!

“Hm?”

Ji Si paused for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. As he gripped his staff, the swarm of rats high above the Ningyuan Mountains exploded in an instant. They plummeted like torrential rain, crashing into the mountains and towns below, causing chaos wherever they fell.

However, Ji Si had no concept of “public property” and certainly felt no guilt over what the falling rats might destroy.

Fate was fate. He had given humanity plenty of time to avoid danger. If anyone, for some inexplicable reason, decided to step out of their homes to “watch the show” and got injured or killed, they had no one to blame but themselves.

The staff struck the ground, and a ray of light radiated outward from Ji Si as the center. In an instant, the visible light illuminated the night into dazzling daylight, as bright as the sun. It dispelled the cold, warming hearts and souls alike. Even though it lasted only the briefest of moments, it felt as if one had been embraced by the gentle expanse of a starry ocean.

The light faded, and snow began to fall again.

The world became eerily quiet, time seemingly frozen at this moment, unwilling to take a step forward.

The glow subsided, and the sharp aura withdrew. His long hair settled, and the fluttering of his white robe ceased. Ji Si slowly opened his eyes, once again returning to the image of a gentle and refined young man. The corners of his lips still carried a smile, and his gaze remained as compassionate as ever.

When he glanced at Si Nuocheng, he found the other man staring back at him. His eyes were fixed, unblinking, his expression unusually dazed. For a fleeting moment, Ji Si felt like… something within Si Nuocheng had shattered?

“Si Nuocheng?”

“…I need a moment,” the Young Master of the Si family took a deep breath, exhaled, then repeated the process. Not long after, he seemed to recover, though his expression was profoundly complicated. “Are you… a superpowered individual?”

“High Priest,” Ji Si replied with a light chuckle. “Or you can call me… a Chosen One.”

He had once been the chosen inheritor of the will of the Dao. Now, he was a divine priest who chose the Dao himself. The Dao’s choice, his repayment—this was a karmic connection, the meaning of an encounter that he needed to fulfill personally.

Many times, the choices he made weren’t mere coincidences but the inevitable result of karma.

And so…

Ji Si looked at Si Nuocheng with calm sincerity. “You’re a good person. Just focus on keeping yourself safe in dangerous situations. Don’t put yourself on the front lines.” Like when the swarm of rats attacked, and Si Nuocheng instinctively shielded him.

Si Nuocheng’s face remained impassive, but his heart was reeling. “I’m… a good person?”

What kind of absurd “good person card” was this? The very first one in his life, and it was handed to him by a man!

“Hm,” the High Priest confirmed with a melancholic tone. “Good causes must yield good results. Otherwise, it’ll become a debt you can never repay…” You and I were never meant to cross paths, but here you are, digging one pit after another. I have no choice but to fill them, one by one.

Perhaps he should’ve never gotten into that car in the first place, bewitched by some inexplicable impulse. Tsk.

Author’s Note:

Yu Mingyang: How did you manage to hang yourself on Boss Si’s crooked tree?
Ji Si: You wouldn’t understand. He’s exceptionally good at digging pits for others.
Yu Mingyang: …
Yu Mingyang: Boss Si, why do you act like such a fool around Ji Si?
Si Nuocheng: I don’t act like a fool. He thinks I’d survive without him, but he’d probably strap on rocket boots and leave me in the dust.
Yu Mingyang: …

PS:

Gold: silver, white, or golden; Wood: green or cyan; Water: black or blue; Fire: red or pink; Earth: yellow.

Ji Si dressed all in white—what does that mean? Lacks gold! (Ji Si: ???)
What does Si Nuocheng represent? Has lots of gold!

Complementary! Perfect! Amazing! A match made in heaven! Give it up for them!