Chunjun

Tick, tock— On the watch face, as time slipped away, the revolving hands quietly aligned. 6:30:30! At that exact moment, the hour, minute, and second hands all pointed precisely at the numeral 6, and a streak of radiant golden light appeared over the number. The gauge, which had barely reached ten percent when Chunjun was "finished," was now surging as the sword fractured! Twenty percent, thirty, forty, fifty... It was shooting up like a rocket. Yet Ji Jue had no attention to spare for anything else. *Crack.* A second fracture appeared to the sound of bursting bubbles. Like an ascetic ordeal, a torment marching toward destruction. In a daze of agony and exhaustion, Ji Jue had forgotten who he was, where he stood, and what he was doing. Consciousness, thoughts, soul—all empty. All he did was yield to this ever-surging, ravenous instinct, raising the invisible hammer once more—as if lifting his very soul aloft—and bringing it down! *Crash!* An illusory, soundless resonance abruptly burst outward, shattering the workshop's confines to echo across Xinquan and the wasteland, ringing in everyone's ears. It sounded like chains coming undone, an iron yoke breaking apart. The moment the hammer struck down, amidst the dark, trembling shock before his eyes, Ji Jue saw countless fleeting glimpses of light and shadow appear. [Memories] At this moment, everything that the person named Ji Jue had seen, thought, learned, known, and felt since the instant of his birth rose up from within his soul! A third fracture appeared upon Chunjun, thoroughly shattering perfection. They spread and branched across the purest of blades, yet it unfolded with utter naturalness, like a brush racing across paper in swift, unbroken strokes. In the ancient, savage dawn of time, primeval humans barely different from beasts might have splashed blood just like this, painting the scene of the very first hunt upon cave walls. And from this, the Path of Aether was born! And when the first flame ignited within the endless night, illuminating primitive, ignorant eyes, the desire for Ascension became unstoppable. Priests and shamans fractured tortoise carapaces in fire, using those oldest of cracks as vessels to divine fortune and record passing moments; in that remaking through Embers, Ascension and Aether converged, weaving together in an intertwined bond. Sprouting in the past, interwoven in the present, vanishing into the future. Just like all stories. Now, with the collision and temper of soul and blade, fractures wound their way across Chunjun's spine. The story named Ji Jue was already mirrored within. With the swordsmith's spirit, forge the spirit of Chunjun. And then, in the swordsmith's name, manifest the name of Chunjun! —This was the true creation of the Heavenly Work, Chunjun! Beneath the impact of the soul-hammer, ten thousand fissures crept out across the blade's spine. Chunjun shuddered violently, as if in joyful song, yet also like a mournful wail. A ringing cadence spread along the fissures, and then the blade, covered in countless cracks, shattered completely into innumerable fragments. Chunjun was destroyed! Yet in the next instant... when the shackles of matter completely disintegrated, the purest of essences was reborn from the void. As Ji Jue raised his hand once more, a wisp of phantom light, like a shimmering bubble, appeared before his eyes. Faint and ephemeral, dreamlike and unreal. Yet like a mirror, it reflected his gaunt, exhausted face and shining eyes with utmost clarity. Just like another self. "Hello there, Chunjun!" Ji Jue could no longer hold back a smile, lowering his gaze to look at the invisible sword resting between his hands. Illusory light rippled, silently rising and falling in answer to his call. "..." In the silence, Isis could no longer suppress her confusion. "I do not see Chunjun, sir." "Mm, but this is Chunjun," Ji Jue answered calmly. "To manifest a name through the sword, uniting self and object into one—thus they share one origin and converge into a single body. If Chunjun were to materialize under the observation of others, it would have fallen to an inferior state, reduced to nothing more than an external heirloom. "The true Chunjun was always a creation that no one aside from the swordsmith could see or touch..." It was precisely to achieve this unbroken bond of oneness with the smith that it required the smith's spirit, the smith's name, and the smith's hands to forge it personally. What had been achieved was not merely Chunjun, but the swordsmith himself! Isis remained silent, feeling only that perhaps her creator could not accept failure and had gone mad. After all, it would not be the first time. More importantly... "If a sword is formless, substanceless, and nonexistent, how can it cut down an opponent?" "Indeed. That is why it isn't meant to cut anyone else—" Ji Jue smiled as before, reverently cradling that final wisp of illusory light, welcoming enlightenment amid unprecedented joy and delight. "—it is meant to cut myself." At that moment, between the ten fingers of his empty hands, the phantom light turned, held in reverse grip. Aimed straight at Ji Jue's own chest. He plunged it down! *BOOM!* Outside the workshop, which had been silent and dead still, an earth-shattering roar suddenly erupted. "What..." Riding back from beyond the town in the pouring rain, Slan stiffened in alert and reined in his horse, looking up rigidly. Amid the neighing of steeds and the ring of drawing blades, everyone slowly realized what was happening and craned their necks in a daze, looking up at the sky. The daylight that had dawned at daybreak was gone. The scorching sun had vanished without a trace. Not just in Xinquan; at this moment across the wilderness, and even far away in Yacheng, in Chaocheng... The first to notice was Ye Xian, who had been observing for a long time; right after came the Tong family's elder patriarch, Tong Yuan, reclining on a wicker lounge chair in his mountain manor; Haizhou Warden Lyu Yingyue, on an inspection tour in a Chaocheng industrial park; and even the Lou family's old matriarch accompanying her. Next, Wen Wen jolted awake from a hangover, opened her eyes, and couldn't help sitting bolt upright with a loud "Holy shit!" In the Security Bureau, Tong Shan instinctively drew his sword while working overtime; in his massage parlor, Old Zhang paused mid-sentence as he lectured a bunch of old men on wellness; and Xiao An, who had finished his chores and was torn between rushing to cultivate so he could catch up to his sister or going to hang out with Big Brother Ji Jue, looked back blankly... Soon, throughout all of Haizhou, every Celestial Chosen capable of perception shuddered and looked up toward the sky above Xinquan. In the dead silence, shock was beyond words. And beyond the Federation, among the Thousand Islands, at the Association's headquarters—Tianshu—in the very center of the isle, atop a bustling square, the towering, silent Clock Tower suddenly shook. Then, it rang out in a mighty toll! A grand sound erupted out of nowhere, spreading and reverberating throughout Tianshu. Pedestrians were caught completely off guard. Shocked, they stopped in their tracks and turned toward the source of the chime. When they finally understood, they could hardly suppress looks of envy and jealousy. "The Heaven-Stirring Bell is tolling on its own?" "Who is it?" "Fuck, which son of a bitch keeps striking gold?!" "Are they even using shills for this now?!" Inside the office, Delong and Gustav, shaking hands before witnesses, froze mid-action. Looking at each other, surprise and emotion surfaced in their eyes. And even joy. "Well, well, well... what an auspicious omen," the Chairman, on the final day of his term, beamed with delight. "Congratulations, Chairman Gustav. Good news on your very first day of the handover." Gustav looked steady, modestly accepting this unexpected pleasant surprise. "Likewise." "Now when I write my memoirs later, I'll have a fitting conclusion." Delong looked increasingly pleased. Wasn't this Embers granting him a final sendoff in recognition of a lifetime of hard work dedicated to the Association? He would have to ask around later to see which Master's handiwork this was. Haizhou, Chaocheng, industrial park. "Quite a spectacle. Hasn't been seen in twenty-some years, has it?" The elderly woman beside Lyu Yingyue marveled, casually holding back Lou Yanyue, who had suddenly grown excited and wanted to go pick a fight. Smiling, she asked curiously, "Who is it this time? Could it be the one from Tide Sound Workshop?" "I suspect not," Lyu Yingyue shook her head slowly. "Ye Xian isn't one for showing off. Even if she forged a Heavenly Work, she wouldn't let people know. Besides, in this direction..." Right now, the direction pointed to by the Sovereign Advent was... Xinquan? *Ah, so that's it?* With sudden realization, she couldn't help a gratified smile, full of delight. "Just the younger generation horsing around. Pay it no mind." . At this moment, above Xinquan, the sky was pitch-black, as though the long night had returned, the sun nowhere to be seen. In its place were countless glittering stars! Those brilliant flashes leaped forth from the firmament, converging like a waterfall that bridged the gulf between heaven and earth, cascading down upon the mortal world. Like the Furnace of Embers tipping over, generously scattering the seeds of flame and kindling of creation across the world. Sovereign Advent! This was the testimony and gift bestowed by the boundless creation of Embers for the crafting of a Heavenly Work. The Manifestation of the Heavenly Furnace! "Hmm?" At the other end of that grand spectacle of an overturning heavenly furnace, someone seemed to sense something. A craftsman cloaked in white leaned on a walking stick, turning his head to look back. Once he finally understood what had occurred, he lost his composure. *Wait, it was just a joke! Xian, do you really have to hold such a grudge?* Then he recalled the public notification of Ji Jue's recruitment as a Federation civil servant posted on his social feed a few months back... More or less, their lineage had finally made its mark! Only... Soon, Tianlu's gaze dropped. Looking toward the wonder of Sovereign Advent, in the brilliant radiance of the overturning furnace and cascading stars, a gap abruptly appeared. Sweeping upward from below, rolling against the heavens! A beam of light—infinitely pure, infinitely sharp, yet formless, shapeless, and hard to perceive—soared straight into the sky! That was... Ji Jue?! The moment the lingering light pierced his body and sank into his soul, Ji Jue lost consciousness. Though it was merely a negligible sliver of spiritus light, the instant it touched his soul, it seemed to transform into a vast, boundless river, roaring and surging to sweep through every corner of his mind and soul! Yet Ji Jue's soul and flesh showed not the slightest resistance. Instead, they welcomed and absorbed it hungrily, as if this were how it was always meant to be. Since they came from the same source, they ought to return to the same body! To manifest a name through the sword, uniting self and object into one. From this moment forth, Chunjun was Ji Jue, and Ji Jue was Chunjun. What need was there to distinguish man from sword? Countless fleeting glimpses appeared before his eyes once more: from his newborn wails upon entering the world, to his toddling first steps as a child, to the rough hardships and pains of his youth, and finally stopping at his adulthood right now—the very instant Ji Jue plunged Chunjun into his soul. The overlapping and melding of phenomena came to an abrupt halt. Yet immediately following, a trace of imperfection and confusion welled up. Not enough. Still not enough! Just a little bit more... Chunjun was like a mirror shining across the soul, and then this spirituality born of the swordsmith would turn into an existence like a soul's reflection, fully becoming part of the swordsmith. Now Ji Jue felt as though he were standing before a mirror, experiencing Chunjun's metamorphosis. But for some reason, that mirror was perpetually shrouded in a thin mist; while its general form and outline were detailed, the finer points remained blurred, like gazing at flowers through fog. The spirit of Chunjun vainly illuminated him again and again, yet it struggled to capture Ji Jue's reflection completely. As if something was missing! Until Ji Jue realized in an epiphany: the creation of Chunjun was already consummate and flawless. Everything had fallen into place naturally; there was no defect, no imperfection. What was lacking now was not Chunjun. It was... himself? In that instant, Ji Jue lowered his eyes, looking at the image reflected in Chunjun. And then, he finally saw it—upon the chest of his hazy reflection... A profound fissure! Bottomless, brimming with darkness, like a rift leading straight to hell. The so-called... "Hole"! Now, as he reached out his hand, he finally felt it—the guidance of Chunjun from countless nightmares, and even the voice from beyond. On the other side of the fissure, an endless torrent of flame surged wildly, unleashing vast echoes. Futile waiting, agony, torment, weeping—crying out to him at every waking moment, calling his name! Those long nightmares seemed to replay before his eyes once more. "So that's it..." Ji Jue reached out in realization, touching the illusory hole in the reflection, murmuring, "Have you been calling to me this whole time?" No one answered. There were only the wails, cries, and roars of countless despairing souls within that endless fire. Begging for salvation, begging for an end, begging for release. Ji Jue fell silent. After a long time, he reached out and tightened his grip on Chunjun before him. "Then let us put an end to this!" Amid the distant wailing, Ji Jue raised his eyes and saw his reflection in Chunjun. The reflection was looking at him too. Then, moving together with him, it stepped forward— The boundary of the mirror was completely shattered. Reflection and self merged into one, no longer distinguishable from each other! From Ji Jue's withered, seated body, a dazzling beam of spiritus light abruptly erupted. His soul ascended, breaking free from the shackles and constraints of the flesh to manifest independently! In a flash, the formless, shapeless, supremely sharp light broke through the workshop's confines, rising against the celestial omen of endless kindling, ascending high into the sky to reign above the firmament! Under the soul's mastery, the light of Chunjun sped forth. Responding to the pull and resonance from the other side of the Hole, in the snap of a finger, it traversed ninety thousand li. In this nearly frozen world, boundless lightning, blazing light, howling wind, and dark clouds rushed toward him, only to brush past and be left far behind. Ji Jue broke through the storm-swept sea, descending from the sky and plunging into the violently surging ocean. From start to finish, he stirred not a single spark of lightning, nor did he disturb a single drop of rain. Just like that, he plunged straight into the deep sea, crossing endless darkness. Until in the deepest trenches of the abyssal ocean, that faint flicker of fire reflected in his eyes once more, expanding, expanding, and expanding further. Just like what he had seen in countless long nightmares. He could vaguely see that at the bottom of the deep sea, on the desolate seabed, corpse after corpse that had sunk into the depths was being burned to ashes. Endless cold cinders reignited from them, a sea of flames surging yet imprisoned within shackles. Four hundred and eleven mutated Laws of Tianyuan had turned into invisible restraints, coiling around the rekindling tide of flames. And above that sea of flames, there seemed to be the presence of some colossal entity. Abyssal Depths, Shadow Sun, Youshuang, Corrupting Stain... the emblems of Great Sins hovered within the deep sea, countless seals cloaking the ocean waters to cut them off from the outside world. Yet Ji Jue no longer cared about any of that. He had already plunged into that imprisoned fire, manifesting anew. Within the flame-tide, inside that world seemingly built of blazing fire and scorched earth, endless wreckage was piled like mountains, and hazy shadows wandered through the charred expanse, wailing for eternity. Raining down from above was a shower of tears. Yet the tears were scalding, like lava. Ji Jue opened his eyes, looking at everything unfamiliar yet familiar before him, seeing skeletal remains struggling in agony amidst the burning. Those charred, rotted faces lifted, staring blankly at him as tears of blood trickled down. Soundless wails and cries. Yearning for an end. And so, Ji Jue raised his hand once more. A dazzling blade extended from his fingers, as though crystallized from all that was gorgeous and magnificent in the world. Its bloom burst forth like an unfurling lotus; its pattern sparkled like the alignment of celestial stars; its gleam surged like water brimming over a pool; its edge rose rugged as fractured jade, and its temper shone dazzling like thawing ice... The blade of Chunjun manifested here! He did not know where he was, nor did he know what had happened here. He only knew why he had come! "Don't be afraid." Ji Jue lowered his gaze, watching them. "I promise, it will be over soon. Very soon." *Please, wait for me a little longer...* *Just a little while longer, only a moment!* The blade struck down! . A quarter of an hour later, the flame-tide erupted! Cold ashes beneath the deep sea surged once more, and boundless flames, like living things, struggled fiercely, rioting and breaking through layers of restraints and seals. Rolling billows of flame spread violently, scorching stone and boiling seawater. Ignoring the roars of fury, chagrin, or terror, it broke through the shackles and camouflage of the deep sea, soaring straight into the heavens. Flaming light like a blade, illuminating ten thousand li!